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Senior stilled at that, his mean gaze narrowing with all the precision of a laser on his younger brother.
He wasn’t the only one.
Michael goddamn Byrne.Again.
Conor and I shared a charged look as Senior repeated, “You saw Elizabeth Ó Cléirigh and Michael Byrne together on her wedding day?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“And you didn’t think to tell me that?” he asked quietly. Too quietly. So quietly that it was fucking dangerous. “When you’ve known for as long as I have that thosecheilefuckers have had me by the balls for decades?”
Well, that was goddamn news to me.
Conor and I shared a look before I inserted, “What hold do they have on you?”
“Thecheiles?”Brennan queried. “Those Irish independence zealots?”
“They’re the ones we break bread with on a daily basis.” Senior bared his throat and sliced a finger across it. “Got me up to here with their bullshit.”
“What? Why?” Declan demanded, sitting up, his interest clear. “Why do the Five Points support thecheiles?”
Senior’s mouth tightened. “Because your grandfather, on your mother’s side, was the leader at one point. Only reason he gave her to me was that I agreed to help the cause.”
Junior quoted, “‘He gave her to you?’”
“Second I set my eyes on her I wanted her,” Senior concurred. “Knew she was mine.”
“If you wanted her so fucking badly, why did you cheat on her?” Brennan spat.
Padraig flinched at the question, and Senior’s expression darkened, but before anyone could say a word, I reasoned, “Seeing as I’m living proof that you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, Aidan, I think that merits an answer.”
“You’re Aidan’s boy?” Padraig blurted out, his eyes rounding, his shock clear.
“I am.” I rubbed my chin, well aware that no one in the room other than Paddy was surprised by that news.
It was the worst kept secret in our family, and in a group of people who were currently being deepthroated by the truth, that was saying something.
“Who’s your ma?” he demanded.
“Fiona Davenport.”
“The girl you had married off to that O’Grady fucker?” Padraig’s eyes widened, but I saw a sliver ofsomethingmake an appearance in his gaze. “You lying bastard. All that time you were grumbling at me for not getting married and for sleeping around and you were cheating on Magdalena? After all the shit we got into so you could have her—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Senior snapped.
“What shit?” Conor chimed in, his curiosity pricked.
“Your grandfather was a head case. Never mind your uncles on her side. You were fucking lucky that most of them got their asses exploded before you were born or got shoved in jail while you were kiddies. Otherwise, you’d have to deal with them.
“You think your father’s got a problem up there—” He tapped his temple. “—consider yourself blessed you didn’t meet them. I didn’t have that luxury. Neither did Frank.
“Aidan only went and started a war with those nutcases because he snatched her from her debutante ball.”
Junior’s mouth gaped. “Ma had a debutante ball? Like a socialite?”
Senior sniffed. “Your ma was well-connected.”
His shoulders hunched when Padraig hissed under his breath. “Well connected?” he scoffed. “With the worst people, meaning that everyday folk were too fucking terrified to deny Cormac O’Shea’s daughter an entry into society.
