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As I stared at what was evidently a Christmas celebration, one pre-Aoife—I figured, as she wasn’t there, neither was Lena, which told me she’d been the one behind the camera—I looked at the family and was surprised to see Finn was there.
Evidently, he’d been taken into the fold, but he was O’Grady, not O’Donnelly. Yet, in that picture, with seven matching smiles staring back at me, a weird thought crossed my mind.
That smile was Aidan Sr.’s.
A little taken aback, and concerned, especially since Lena had just said she basically kept Aidan Sr.’s cock on a leash, I gnawed on my lip until I had no choice to stop staring and trundled down the hall to the lounge.
Did Eoghan know? Was it an open secret among the brothers?
I knew better than to stick my nose in it, but still, it fascinated me. Truly fascinated me.
And I had no idea why, other than the fact that in my world, bastards didn’t eat at the table with the legitimate children. They were out in the cold forever. Not always a bad thing, considering the fathers the Bratva reared.
When I made it into the lounge, I saw the TV was on, blaring a football game—the Patriots vs. the Giants—and that two brothers I hadn’t seen that much of, Conor and Brennan, were arguing over stats with Finn who, by the sounds of it, was actually a Pats fan.
What the fuck?
Surprised by his lack of loyalty, I nevertheless smirked at their arguing—it was a pleasure to see they could do that without actually being violent.
Heaven.
The TV took up one wall. It was massive. Bigger than the monstrosity in our living room. It was faced by a leather sectional that took up three-quarters of the room, and I knew then and there that this room was for Sundays. I couldn’t imagine Aidan Sr. and Lena sitting in here on the regular, it was too big. Too uncomfortably oversized. But for seven men, and now three women and a baby? It was just right. If the other brothers got married, it would still be large enough to fit everyone, and I had a feeling that was why the sofa was so big.
In front of it, there was a coffee table the width of a frickin’ dining table, but it was low to the ground and made out of stone. On it were the two boxes I’d brought with me.
They were wrapped by the lady in the Louis Vuitton store, because she could do a better job than me, and I bit my lip, knowing how the gift was going to go down, but still needing to do it.
A quick glance around the room showed me the back wall, opposite the TV, was just as loaded with pictures as the hall, but other than that, it was a room made for the sofa and a TV, where a baby swing stood empty in front of it.
A family room in the true meaning of the word.
While my sisters and I relaxed when we were among ourselves, that never happened with Father’s presence nearby.
Yet here, Aidan Sr. was scowling at Aidan Jr. over something, while Finn was trying to explain the rules of the game to Aoife who looked both bored and amused at the same time. Lena was under Eoghan’s arm, her shoulder clasped in his embrace, even as Eoghan intercepted an argument between the Aidans.
When Lena saw me, she smiled and patted the seat at her side.
I bit my lip, hating that I felt like an interloper—which, rightfully, I was—but still appreciating that they weren’t going out of their way to make me feel like Bratva scum.
I mean, I felt that way because Aoife was right.
This was a family.
The Five Points was forged upon the familial links between father and sons, and between brothers.
My world?
Ties were forged in hatred and fear and spilled blood.
There was no love, only control and power.
Here? While I didn’t doubt things could get nasty, because Eoghan had just blown off my father’s kneecaps, it had a different undertone.
It felt wholesome.
And I knew any number of federal agencies, be it the FBI, the DEA, or the ATF would probably laugh their asses off at that statement, but it was true nonetheless.
When I perched on the edge of the sofa, I reached for the first box which was papered in pink.
