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“The little siren got in a lucky shot,” I growled angrily. “Better than Seamus. She nailed him right in the bollocks. He’ll be lucky if anything down there still works.”
That shut my twin up.
My father, however, lit up at my statement. He was a cheerful one. That was something I’d always loved about him. He never took life too seriously. Most fathers in his position were known for being stern and controlling. They’d weigh their heirs down with unrealistic expectations. Bars that could never be reached.
Liam Kavanaugh was not that kind of father.
When we were growing up, he’d never set the bar farther than we could reach. When we touched it, he’d move it just a bit farther. His goals for us were never unattainable. He didn’t expect us to be perfect, and he never encouraged us to follow directly in his footsteps.
“You’ll find your own footsteps,” he’d told us when we first learned the truth about the empire we would one day inherit. “Follow your own paths. Lean on each other, and everything will work itself out.”
His words had yet to fail us.
“We need to come up with a plan.” I let out a long sigh. “One that won’t have us going to war against the senator.”
“Kill her.”
The three of us turned to find my mother approaching us from behind the bar. She’d put her cell phone down long enough to listen in on our conversation. Eavesdropping was the only time she managed to lift her eyes away from it.
“We don’t kill the innocent, Marianne,” Father growled. His patience with her had been thinning since her obvious rebuke of Ava. My half sister’s role in our family had become a point of contention between the two of them. “You know this.”
Mother snorted derisively. “She is the daughter of one of the dirtiest senators in the country. How innocent do you really think she is?” she asked, eyes narrowed at my father. The tension between them coiled tighter, the air around them thickening. You’d think she’d have been happy to have her best friend’s daughter in her life.
But this was my mother.
Selfish.
Shallow.
Out for her own regard.
Ava was a threat to her standing in the family. I’d learned early in life that my mother did nothing that didn’t benefit her. She was a viper in the tall grass. A chameleon. And someone who was more than willing to stab you in the back with one of her Louboutins if it meant she’d climb the hierarchy ladder.
I had a bet with Seamus that father had only married her because she had gotten pregnant with us. Another calculated move on her part and “moment of weakness” from what my father had drunkenly mumbled one night. It hadn’t stung when he’d said it. I knew he wouldn’t trade me or my siblings for the world.
“That may be,” Father continued calmly. I could see his green eyes darkening dangerously. “But it still stands. We don’t kill women and children. Especially if they aren’t any harm to us.”
“Any harm?” My mother sneered, her hands coming down on the tabletop roughly as she leaned toward my father, her face pinched in an ugly scowl. “She witnessed your sons murder someone. She’s a reporter. One who could bring this entire family to ruin with just pen and paper.”
Mother wasn’t wrong. If given the opportunity, Bailey could deliver a large blow to us if she reported on what she’d seen. She’d be the only witness, but her status as an investigative journalist gave her credibility. She could easily sink our organization to its knees if she had both Magnus Knight and her father backing her.
Ifgiven the opportunity.
“We’re not killing her, Mother.” Seamus frowned at her. “Kiernan and I will take care of Bailey our way. It’s our mess. We should have cleared the alley before taking care of Jimmy.”
“Yes,” she hissed, turning her cold eyes on him. “You should have. The two of you are set to be the next leaders of this family. You can’t afford mistakes. By not killing her, you are showing how weak you are. How soft you are. I’m disappointed in the two of you. I thought I raised you better. Neither of you ever thinks. You both just—”
“Enough,” I roared at her, losing my patience. I watched Seamus pale as she berated him. We might both be hardened men, but that didn’t mean our mother belittling us didn’t have any effect. Seamus was more sensitive when it came to our mother. He’d always wanted her attention when we were little. He’d do just about anything to garner the one thing she never gave us. He’d simply wanted to talk with her. To have her smile at him. Appreciate him.
She never did. Not unless there was something in it for her.
We might be twins, but I’d seen our mother’s duplicitous nature long before my brother. She wasn’t worthy of the title. There were those out there who loved their mothers, even when they were cruel and cold. They might have even shed a tear if they died.
I was not one of those people.
Neither was Seamus. Not anymore.
My mother’s eyes widened at my outburst. She took a step back from the table, her mouth open in shock.
