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1
EILISH
I really hate surprises.
A twisting sensation knots in my stomach as the elevator begins to rise. My throat works as I swallow nervously, my eyes squinting in an effort to see through the blindfold, even if technically that would be cheating.
I like plans. I like schedules. I like to know what’s on the other side of a door before I walk through it. I’m going to have to force myself to swallow all that back tonight if I’m really going to go through with this.
And Iamgoing to go through with it. I might not usually do surprises. But I also don’t “do” breaking and entering or theft, either.
And, well, here we are.
“You look like you’re going to puke.”
Britney sneers, the only other person in the elevator.
“I’m fine.”
“I mean, I would have thought that committing a crime as part of your initiation would be as easy as breathing for you, Eilish. But if you want to back out, now’s your—”
“I said I’mfine, Britney.”
She snickers. “Sure. If you say so.”
The elevator keeps rising higher and higher, just like my blood pressure as it thrums in my veins. My hands fidget with my phone in the front pocket of my hoodie.
Her joke isn’t anything new to me. Yeah, har-har-har, my family, the Kildares, are effectively the royal family of the Irish Mafia here in the US. And yeah, my Uncle Cillian runs the whole show. Like I haven’t heard every possible joke and snide remark involving my family’s criminal connections since I was in kindergarten.
Someone’s juice box is missing? Well, you know who Eilish’s family is. A teacher is out sick? Gosh, they probably crossed the Kildares.
Don’t piss Eilish off, or she’ll have you whacked.
I gave up trying to tell me people that my family name doesn’t define me years ago. Because they were actually right: being a Kildaredid—and obviously still does—define me.
So instead, I threw myself headlong into being “good”.
I aced every test. I was top of every class. First chair cello in the New York Youth Symphony. Valedictorian with honors at NYU with early acceptance to Columbia School of Business.
But it doesn’t matter how high you soar. It doesn’t matter if there’s never a single hair out of place or a single piece of lint on your clothes.
Names matter.
Family matters.
Blood matters.
And mine is inescapable.
Not that Iwantto escape my family. I truly don’t. For all their involvement in what is categorically “bad”—i.e., crime—my family is amazing, flaws and all. My sister Neve, with her chaotic energy and heart of gold. Our broody, grumbly, overly protective bodyguard Castle, who at this point is effectively our big brother. Even my uncle Cillian, the lethally cold and vicious head of the Kildare empire, who is a literal, actual psychopath—at least, with his enemies. With us and his new wife, Una? He’d kill for us.
Hehaskilled for us.
It’s not just them. In the last year, my family has basically doubled, after Neve married Ares Drakos, head of the Greek mafia Drakos family. Now I have four new brothers-in-law, not to mention a sister-in-law, Callie, who’s quickly become my best friend.
Yes, a lot has changed in a year.
I’vechanged, too. And I know it hasn’t gone unnoticed. I know my family is worried about me. Three and a half months ago, when the combined Kildare-Drakos forces almost went to war with the Reznikov Russian Bratva family, a bomb tore through the bar that Neve, Callie, and I had been working our butts off to open.
