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CHAPTER ONE
MAEVE
It felt like an eternity as I waited for the clock’s hands to move.
And waited.
I must have spent half of my life waiting for the men in my family.
Raised voices crashed against the door, causing Gregor to shift awkwardly from foot to foot.
‘You could just let me in.’ I narrowed my eyes at my minder and tapped my acrylic nails on the table.
‘You know I can’t do that, Maeve. Your brothers would have my bollocks off.’
‘I should be in there. Esther is my sister, too.’ I didn’t blame her for running from the arranged marriage between her and the creep that is Harold Thompson, but to ditch me for love, twice? Ugh. She’d fallen for the guy my brothers had trusted to haul her arse home and left us all to deal with the fallout. I couldn’t entirely blame her. She was expecting a baby, and I wanted them to be safe. I’d thought that Alec, the enforcer who stole her heart, would have dealt with Harold before fleeing. Instead, my father was half dead, and the situation was worse than ever. The bitter rivalry between the two biggest crime families in Glasgow had mutated from trying to broker peace to an all out war.
‘You know the rules, lass. It’s men’s business.’ Gregor, at least, had the decency to avert his eyes at the utterly sexist statement.
A familiar white fiery anger bubbled up from my stomach. My life may have been pretty gilded. The best education, the finest clothes, the swankiest parties, but it was all just smoke and mirrors. I was just another pawn.
My brothers Logan, Ewen and Mac would be behind the door making decisions which would affect all of our lives, while they left me out in the cold. The baby. The girl.
Useless.
There was nothing to do but wait. I’d hoped that with my father being in a coma, my brothers would have relented on the old-fashioned nonsense. But no. Patriarchy still ruled.
They emerged almost an hour later as I was dozing against my arm. A simmering undercurrent of excitement surrounded them. Mac ruffled my hair as he took a seat beside me while I grimaced and flattened it back down. I’d never admit it, but he was my favourite sibling. With only two years between us, we’d grown up in cahoots, forever causing mischief at our parents’ soirees before snatching a plate of desserts and disappearing to stuff our faces. As we grew into our twenties, the family business had truncated us somewhat. Dad expected Mac to be ruthless, to enact orders without hesitation. The few years he’d been a vital part of the business had already worn on him.
‘What’s the plan?’ I asked as my other brothers, and their closest organisation members, drifted off.
‘You know I’m not supposed to tell you anything.’ The glint in Mac’s eyes told me he very much wanted me to keep prying.
‘Come on,’ I wheedled. ‘I’m as mad as you guys are about Esther having to be on the run. I want her to come home.’
‘They have invited us to a party. To make amends allegedly.’
‘Why do we want to make amends? Dad had made the deal about Esther marrying that sleaze-ball. It’s not looking likely he will wake up. Logan should cut ties once and for all with those arseholes.’ I was torn about whether I wanted Dad to wake up, however heartless it made me. Living under his iron fist had stifled us all. He made enemies as fast as dealers sold coke. I didn’t wish him dead, but I’d far rather have my brother, Logan, at the helm than him. Maybe it would save me from being promised to someone I hate, too.
‘Logan wants to make allies. Hopefully Harold will pass over the reigns to his eldest son soon, and if we can be on good terms, it would be better for everyone.’
‘It sounds like a stupid fucking plan to me.’ My shoulders slumped. Harold’s power had grown in the city, and far beyond, in the years since Dad and he had fallen out and disbanded their joint organisation to go their own ways. Their bitter rivalries had led not only to my mother’s demise but also to my eldest brother Malcolm Jr’s death and now our father’s coma. Trying to make ties while Harold was still in charge wasn’t just stupid. It could lead to more of us six feet under.
‘Me too,’ Mac sighed. ‘Me too.’
Light streamed from the kitchen as I walked through our home, followed by the low chatter of voices and the pop of a cork being pulled from a bottle.
I stalled by the ajar door and watched as Logan poured some red wine into a handful of glasses.
‘What are we going to do?’ Ewen said, after taking a deep swig of the wine and swallowing hard.
‘We’re going to have to play their game. Harold is still furious about Esther, not to mention the knife he took to the shoulder.’ Logan ran a hand over his jaw as he spoke. Being thrust into leadership was difficult at the best of times, never mind when your family was teetering over a war with your rivals.
‘What does he want with this party?’
‘He wants Maeve.’
My stomach dropped into the pits of hell at his words. Over my dead body.
