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There are a thousand ways: we’re gangsters, we’re thugs, we buy politicians and unions, we own half the city of Boston, and a quarter of Philadelphia, and big chunks of New York. We’re a force on the East Coast, and we rival any crime organization in the world.
She’ll find all that out in time.
For now, I gesture at the window. “Most of the buildings out there? We own them in some capacity. Boston is our city.”
Her eyes widen. She tries to speak, but can’t find words.
Not that I blame her.
Dara has no clue how hard her life just became.
Chapter13
Dara
Istand outside of a beautiful Victorian brick-front house across from Boston Commons. The car drives away as Finn walks up the stoop and begins unlocking the front door.
“You livehere?” I gape around me, genuinely in shock. “These houses must be worth—”
“Millions,” he says, sounding distracted. “Come inside.”
“Shouldn’t you live in some condo or something? Why the heck do you live in a multi-million-dollar house all alone?”
“Condos are for frat boys and men with bad taste. Comeinsidealready, and I’ll give you the damn tour.”
I follow him in, closing the door behind me. An automatic lock thunks shut, making me jump. What sort of guy has security like that? And does this mean I can’t get out, even if I wanted to?
No time to think too much. He’s already walking inside, gesturing vaguely.
It’s almost exactly what I pictured. Polished, gleaming, dark hard wood, walls painted in neutral tones, oil paintings on the walls, and original details like a banister that must be at least a hundred years old.
Everything else is completely modern. All new kitchen, all new living room, the place expanded and improved. I stare at everything like a newborn kitten seeing the world for the first time as he lazily points out details.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask.
He considers for a moment. “About six years now. I bought it a few years after my first successful club opened. Since then, I’ve opened six more, plus a string of bars and restaurants.”
“Who the hellareyou?” I stare at him, not sure what to think. This man is insanely wealthy—anyone that lives in a house like this has to be—but the idea that he’d own multiple successful properties is absurd, especially in a town like Boston, and I’ve never even heard his name before.
“Finn Crowley,” he says, looking away. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
I hesitate as he heads back to the stairs. “Wait a second, hold on. We haven’t even talked about what we’re doing back here.”
“I told you, you’re staying the night. I’m not going to let the mother of my future child sleep on a couch ever again. I have a spare room with its own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”
I let out a laugh. A spare room in this place? It’s probably nicer than anything I’ve ever slept in before.
This house, it screams luxury. Everything about it oozes money and power. I knew Finn was connected, but this is too much, I feel too dizzy, and the way he’s talking about me and the baby is only making things more difficult.
“Can you slow down?” I say, leaning up against the wall to steady myself. “I just wanted to talk to you, I didn’t think you’d drag me back to your place.”
But Finn’s by my side instantly. “Are you okay? Do you need some water? You should sit down, I don’t want you to—”
“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging him off. He glares at me, jaw working, and it takes a beat to notice my hands still on his chest. I hold them there, feeling his heart race beneath my palm, before I yank them back. “You’re just speeding along, not really listening to me at all, and I haven’t even agreed to anything yet.”
He visibly gathers himself. “Let me ask you something. If you had the choice, would you rather sleep in a bed tonight or on a couch?”
“Depends where the bed’s located. If it’s near you—” I raise my eyebrows, fighting back a smile.
