Iwalk through the parking lot of The Peacock Club and look around at the cars parked up outside. From the shiny BMWs to the Audis, it seems like most of Sean O’Connor’s men have turned up for this meeting today, as well as the arrogant prick himself. My brothers and I have just bought a chain of these clubs. They are a little different to what we usually deal in, but when I heard they were for sale, my interest was piqued. They cater to a very particular clientele. Sex clubs, I think most people would call them, but from my research I have discovered they are so much more than that. And now my brothers and I own six of them across the world. I can’t deny that Jessie influenced my decision, not that she knows about them yet, but I can’t wait to take her to one of them some day.

The club is closed during the day, so it’s the perfect spot to do a little business while I’m here. The manager opened up for me half an hour ago and has now left to allow me the run of the place undisturbed.

I open the double doors and walk down the hallway. I don’t know what I’d expected the place to look like, but it wasn’t this. It is tasteful and elegant, with muted colors and chrome and glass. I suppose I’d been expecting leather and red paint. There are huge mirrored doors at the end of the hallway which I assume lead into the main club area. Someone leans against the wall just in front of them. I haven’t seen him for twenty-five years and he has a long beard now, but I would still recognize him anywhere. He grins at me as I approach and I smile back. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He holds out his arms. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

I walk into his embrace. “It’s good to see you too, Pol.”

We hug for a few seconds and I realize how much I’ve missed him. After my mom, my Uncle Paul was my favorite grown up when I was a kid. He taught me how to shoot and how to skin a rabbit. The former skill I have been grateful of, and have perfected over the years. The latter, not so much. “How the fuck did you know I’d be here?” I ask as I step back from him.

“What?” he arches an eyebrow at me. “O’Connor has been telling every fucker who will listen he’s meeting you here today.”

“He never could keep his mouth shut.”

Paul arches an eyebrow at me. “I hear he’s got a busted face and a broken arm.”

“Yeah? Well, he touched what didn’t belong to him.”

“A girl?” Paul chuckles softly.

“My girl.”

Paul nods his head. “She something special, is she?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, I can believe it,” he says with a nod and a faraway look in his eyes that makes me wonder who he’s thinking of.

“Where the fuck have you been Pol? I thought you were dead?”

“Here. There. Everywhere.” He shakes his head as though he’s annoyed with himself about something.

“You married? Got any kids?”

“No and no.”

“But there is someone, right?” I ask, thinking of his reaction a few seconds earlier.

“Hmm. There was.”

“Was?”

“Is,” he snaps and I wonder what the story is there because I have definitely pushed some kind of button. “Look, we gonna stand here reminiscing or are we gonna get in there and fuck up Sean O’Connor’s day?”

“And what makes you think I’m going to do that?” I frown at him.

“Well, you’re not handing operations over to him, are you?” he asks, a little more of his Irish accent creeping into his voice the more he talks to me.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“After you then, kid,” he says as he indicates the door.

I pull it open and walk inside the room with my uncle close behind me. There are a dozen men in the room. Sean O’Connor sits in the middle of them, the ringmaster of this particular circus. His face is a mess and his arm is in a sling and I can’t help but smile as I approach him.

“You’re late,” he snarls.

“What can I say? My girl wouldn’t let me get out of bed.”

“I bet,” he snarls. “She looked like a slut.”

I don’t have to act because Paul does it for me, walking straight over to O’Connor and grabbing him by the throat. “Apologize!” he snarls as O’Connor’s men look on. Although, I suppose they are no longer O’Connor’s men. They are mine.

O’Connor’s face is turning blue. He fumbles at his jacket but Paul only squeezes tighter and Sean looks like he’s about to pass out. “Sorry!” he eventually wheezes and Paul releases him.

“Thank you for coming here this morning, gentlemen,” I say as I shove my hands in my pockets and finger the brass knuckles I have in there. I’ll be happily using them on Sean O’Connor’s face if he utters one more word about Jessie. “I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to tell you how things are going to be now that my father is dead.”

Sean snorts and shakes his head.

“You got something to say first?” I snarl.

“Yes.” He pulls a gun out of his jacket and points it at me. “We are going to tell you how things are going to work around here. Now that your father is dead, the reign of the Ryan family is officially over.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he spits.

I look beside him at his second-in-command, Cormac Macaulay, who rolls his eyes.

“Can someone kindly escort this piece of shit out of here?” I ask as I look around the room for a willing volunteer. Five men stand up.

“I can, Boss,” one of them says.

Sean stares at them with an open mouth and waves his gun at me again. Cormac stands up and no doubt thinking his right-hand man is leaping to his defense, Sean stands with him.

“I think it’s only right that I do it,” Cormac says.

“What the fuck?” Sean snarls but Cormac has disarmed him and has his arm up his back before he can even finish the sentence.

“Didn’t you know Cormac and I are old friends, Sean?” I frown at him. “I would have thought a man of your intelligence would have figured that out by now.”

“Snake!” Sean spits. “Macaulay, you ungrateful cunt!”

“Yeah, okay,” Cormac chuckles. “Your time is up, Sean, but I’m willing to at least let you walk out of here with a little dignity.”

Sean shrugs Cormac off him and straightens his coat. “Cheeky fucking cunts! Every one of you!” He points at the men seated around the room. “You will all fucking regret this!” he hisses and then he storms out of the room.

Once he is gone, I turn back to the assembled men. “As I was saying, here is how things are going to work from now on. I’m going back to New York as soon as my father’s funeral is over. I don’t have time to be back and forth to Ireland every five minutes to check on what you are up to. I trust Cormac, so as far as you’re concerned, he speaks for me. I trust that all of you will just keep doing what you’re doing. There is no need for anyone to be negatively affected by my father’s death. Things will continue as they were, but with Cormac at the helm. Understood?”

“Yes,” they all nod their heads and voice their agreement.

“Good. Now clear off,” I say and they all stand to leave. “Not you,” I say to Cormac and he nods his head and takes a seat again.

“Nicely done,” Paul says when there are only the three of us left in the room. “Now how about you fix all of us a nice whiskey from that well stocked bar there?” He nods his head toward it.

“What am I? Your fucking bartender?” I frown at him.

He laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t see my nephew for twenty-five years and this is how he treats me.” He slides off his suit jacket and hangs it over the back of his chair. “Shall I fetch us a drink then?” He coughs and rubs his chest.

“Sit down, old man,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll get us a fucking drink.”

“Take off your coat if you’re staying, lad,” Paul says to Cormac. “Makes me uneasy when people wear coats indoors. Like they’re hiding something. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Cormac looks at me and I nod my head and take off my jacket too before I walk behind the bar and pour us all a large measure of fine Irish whiskey.

When we each have a drink, Paul, Cormac and I raise our glasses in a toast. “To the most evil cunt to have ever walked this earth,” Paul says before his downs his. Both Cormac and I nod our agreement but I have never seen such obvious, undisguised hatred for my father from Paul before. I mean I knew that he always hated him, but his venom now is only matched by my own, and I had plenty more reasons to hate my father than our uncle did. Or so I always thought. Now I know differently and my conversation from two days ago with my Aunt reminds me that I need to speak to him, but it’s a conversation we need to have in private.

Cormac and I down our whiskey too and the three of us slam our glasses down onto the table. Paul wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I need to go.”

I frown at him. “Now?”

“Yeah. Something I have to do.” He stands up and puts his jacket back on.

“I need to talk to you about something, Pol.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods his head. “Later, though. I want to meet this girl of yours too.”

“Then at least leave me your number?” I frown at him.

“Okay,” he nods his head and takes his cell out of his pocket before pressing some buttons. My own cell phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Now you got it,” he says, still clearly distracted by something.

“Dinner tonight?” I suggest.

“Tonight,” he agrees but he is a million miles away.

“Good to meet you Paul,” Cormac says as my uncle starts to walk away.

“Yeah. You too, kid. See you later, Shane.” He winks at me and then he walks out.

“Seems like he had to be somewhere real fast,” Cormac says with a smile.

“Yeah,” I frown as I watch him leave. “Slippery fucker. Did he say anything while I was getting drinks?”

“He only asked how long I’d known you, but then I had to take a piss, so we didn’t talk long.”

I nod my head absent mindedly and then I remember the real reason I am here today. I have known Cormac since we were teenagers, ever since we both started working for my father. He has always hated Sean O’Connor as much as I have, and he was never my father’s biggest fan either. I lost touch with him when we moved to New York, but once I found out Patrick was dying, I reached out to Cormac and he soon proved himself to be the perfect choice to take over here.

“I appreciate you giving me this opportunity, Shane,” Cormac adds. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know.”

I spent another two hours with Cormac discussing the next steps for our businesses here in Ireland, and I am even more sure now that I have made the right choice in appointing him as the new head of our operations. He is a good businessman, rational and fair, but ruthless when he needs to be. I’m happy to be able to leave this behind and focus on our business in New York.

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