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“Still no luck finding anythin’ out about Babydoll?”
“Naw,” he replies, shaking his head. “It’s weird. I can’t find much under that name.”
“Maybe that’s not her name then,” Cian says with no real thought as he’s still looking at Amber. But Rory and I turn to one another, thinking the same thing.
I never thought this was a possibility because the Clerys confirmed she worked for them. And what little information was online all pointed that she was who she said she is. But with what Amber just shared, I’m beginning to think Babydoll is hiding a lot more than I originally thought.
“I tell a lie, yer not a complete eejit,” Rory teases, while Cian gives him the middle finger.
We decide to get this over with as we have some investigating to do. Some of our “colleagues” are coming, and there is nothing like a wee bit of alcohol to loosen the lips. We have to be on our A game, so no going on the piss for us, which is a shame because dealing with this sober is going to be brutal.
The house is chaos, with countless people rushing around, ensuring everything is in place. They know what happens when Connor Kelly is unhappy. The castle sparkles, and I wonder how many hours Fiona’s slaves were forced to scrub every corner of this place.
“With all this, y’d think our aul’ lads knew what they were doin’,” Rory whispers, whistling when he looks at the hanging crystal chandelier.
And he’s right.
This wealth was built on blood money, and our fathers believed they were untouchable. But the last few days have proven otherwise.
“I’ve been thinkin’,” Rory says, keeping his voice low as we casually walk down the hallway. “About what Aidan said. I think we have a double agent working for us.”
“Aye, I was thinkin’ the same thing,” I reply with a nod. “Nolen and Ronan were workin’ for the Doyles, but who put them in contact? They don’t have the brains or the bollocks to do that themselves. They’re small fry. We need the whole fuckin’ ocean.”
Rory hums in agreement. “And why? What are the Doyles offerin’ them? To consort with Catholics, it’s sacrilegious. Not just for us Protestants, but if other Catholics found out that the Doyles were dealin’ with us…they’d be shunned. This is bigger than we thought.”
“Can ya ask yer uncle Sean?”
“What should I ask him, Cian? How’s it hangin’, Uncle? Who’d ya think would betray us? Oh, and I’ve gone into Dublin in hopes of tryin’ to infiltrate the Doyles.”
“Aye right,” he says, while Rory laughs. “It was just an idea. Yer uncle wouldn’t lie to ya.”
But as soon as the words leave him, he realizes the mistake he made. Uncle Seanhaslied to me and will do so again if he thinks I’m getting too close. This is why we need to do this on our own.
When we come to the family portrait bar me, both Rory and Cian stop, needing a closer look. “That fuckin’ bitch,” Rory says, shaking his head.
“Aye, she has a face like a baten bear.” Cian gags, shuddering.
A waiter walks by with a bottle of champagne. Cian stops him. “I’ll be havin’ that. Cheers.”
Cian doesn’t give him a chance to argue and snatches the bottle from his hands. He legs it away from us, scared.
A photographer takes our picture. It’s a little over the top, but it seems Fiona has gone all out.
“I think we deserve a wee drink.” Before I can protest—considering we agreed not to drink—Cian shakes the bottle rigorously, aims it at the painting, and pops it open, showering the canvas with expensive champagne. “Much better.”
Rory chuckles while I tilt my head to the side, admiring the adjustment. It looks class.
“Away ta fuck,” Rory mumbles under his breath. I have no idea why, until I peer in the direction he’s looking and almost rub my eyes in case I’m seeing things.
“Who’s thon?” Cian asks, the remnants of the bottle trickling all over the floor.
“Babydoll,” I say, not answering his question, but rather, speaking my disbelief aloud.
Standing down the hallway is Babydoll, a silver tray in hand. A man speaks to her and she nods, like she’s taking note of his instructions. Is she working this event?
“That’sher?” Cian whistles as we all stare.
Rory has seen her picture on social media, so he recognized her, but no picture can capture how beautiful she really is. She is innocent, but fierce all in the same breath. It doesn’t make sense, nor does her being here.
