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Page 16 of Dublin Charmer (Emerald Isle Mafia #5)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Finn

I blink into the harsh light, a weight pressing against my eyelids. I focus on the figure standing over me. Doc Kelvin, his hair slightly disheveled, looks down with a mix of concern and professionalism. “Finn? How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” My throat feels like sandpaper, and I wince as I attempt to sit up.

“Easy now.” He places a steadying hand on my shoulder. “You’re all right. Just some drugs in your system. I countered them with something stronger.”

I rub my neck where Nyx jabbed me with that syringe. It’s raw and sore, but at least it doesn’t feel like I’m about to pass out anymore. A flash of anger courses through me at the thought of her using it on me.

I was trying to help her. I thought she was starting to trust me. I guess I’m still a fool when it comes to reading the women I fancy.

“What did she use?”

“Some kind of sedative laced with a psychoactive drug used to obtain information.” He frowns, pulling back slightly to examine me better. “Nothing lethal, but it sent you for a bit of a loopy ride.”

As I process his words, the charged energy of the room brings my attention to my brothers. All four of them are standing by the door like an angry storm front. The tension radiates from them like heat from a furnace.

“You okay, little brother?” Brendan’s question booms with simmering rage.

I push myself up further, adrenaline kicking in despite my wooziness. Nyx is there, too. She’s pressed herself into the shadows of the room and looks like a cornered animal. Her electric blue hair frames her face while her gaze darts frantically between me and my brothers.

“Aye, I’ll be fine.”

“Good, we waited to put the bitch in the ground until you had your say,” Bryan growls, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

I groan. “You’re off your nut. We’re not killing her.”

“Fucking right we are. She took a run at you and could’ve killed you.”

“I didn’t stick him to kill him,” Nyx protests, her voice trembling but darkly defiant. There’s something raw in her gaze. I recognize her fear of losing her brother and now it’s mingling with a determination to beat all odds against her. “I just needed the code to the door to get out of here.”

“And you just carry a syringe of truth serum around with you, do you?” Brendan asks.

Nyx’s attention shifts to me, a flicker of regret in her explanation. “It was intended for Billy Gravely. I was going to get him alone at the party and find out where he’s holding my brother.”

That tracks. “I could tell you were playing a long game with him when I was watching you at the Monte Carlo party.”

“But then you drugged me before I had my chance. So, what, you can drug me and that’s fine, but I turn the tables and should die for it?”

“You’re not going to die for it,” I assure her.

“She sure as fuck doesn’t get a pass,” Bryan snaps.

I meet Bryan’s gaze and while the fury and panic in his eyes are touching, the look has more to do with Yasmine than me. Losing her has made him hyperaggressive about threats against us. “B, she does get a pass. I drugged her first and set the precedent.”

“She took advantage. You were being kind to her, and she hurt you,” Bryan snaps back, glaring toward the corner. “She’ll pay for that.”

“She won’t,” I counter. “I understand what she did and why. It’s forgiven.”

I lock eyes with Nyx, and for a moment the chaos fades away. There’s a flicker of understanding, a spark of something that pulls me toward her even when I know I shouldn’t feel this way.

Brendan’s jaw is tight as he shoots another daggered glare at Nyx. “It’s not forgiven. No one gets away with hurting our family.”

“But she was trying to defend herself!” I shoot back. “She’s being blackmailed by Gravely because he has her brother! What wouldn’t we do to save one of our own?”

“That’s exactly my point.” Bryan steps forward, fists clenched at his sides. “She put our brother in danger.”

“Enough!” Tag interjects. “We’re not killing the woman for defending herself and trying to keep her brother alive. In fact, we’re taking this upstairs. There is news and it involves Nyx as well.”

Tag, as usual, is calm and composed amid the chaos surrounding him. He raises a hand like he’s calming a herd of wild horses.

“Miss Farina, you will come upstairs with us now. I’m inviting you into our home as our guest. If you do or say anything to harm anyone in our family—if you even think about it—I will slit your throat myself. This is your one and only chance.”

I swallow hard as Tag’s threat hangs thick in the air like smoke from an extinguished flame.

Nyx’s expression betrays nothing. Her face remains composed, even as she studies the men in the room and gauges her chance of escape.

It’s zero, beautiful. There’s nowhere for you to go.

She seems to come to the same conclusion because she dips her chin slowly. “All right. I swear not to attempt anything against your family and will cooperate as long as things remain civil.”

Tag pegs each of us with a look. “Things will remain civil, won’t they, brothers?”

Each of us nods our compliance and falls in line.

“And after we go over the recent developments, we’ll work out what needs doing about getting your brother back home to you.”

“Do we really want her here? In our home?” Sean shoots back defensively.

“Too late now.” Tag glances at me before returning his gaze to Nyx once more, softer this time but no less determined. “We have bigger problems than you right now, but I assure you, joining forces will be in both our best interests.”

Brendan narrows an icy gaze at Nyx again but stays silent this time while Bryan crosses his arms tighter against his chest.

The air crackles with tension between us, a mix of protectiveness and anger aimed at this woman who has unwittingly tangled herself into our lives.

Tag strides toward the door without looking back, clearly expecting us to follow along behind him. Nyx takes a step forward, straightens, and then, hesitantly steps out of the corner. With her shoulders back and her head held high, she follows my brothers and walks into enemy territory.

Whatever happens next is beyond my control.

Nyx

I follow the Quinn brothers up the same staircase I had tried to escape through.

The irony isn’t lost on me—freedom was right there, just beyond that locked door, and now I’m hesitant to walk through it.

My skin prickles with awareness as I feel Finn’s gaze on me from behind, warm and concerned, like a caress sliding down my back to my ass.

When we emerge onto the main floor, I freeze. This isn’t what I expected from Dublin’s most notorious crime family.

The Quinn home is... a home. It’s not a sterile fortress or gaudy display of wealth, but a place where people actually live.

Polished wood meets ancient stone in a beautiful merging of past and present.

The walls of the corridors are a soft gold color, adorned with family photographs spanning decades.

We pass a room where a massive stone fireplace dominates one wall, flames crackling inside. Cozy leather sofas, well-worn from use, are arranged around it. Books fill built-in shelves, some with spines cracked from repeated reading.

It reminds me of my life before Papa died.

Before we lost everything and Gio and I became ghosts in our own lives.

I haven’t seen a real home since I was sixteen.

Finn comes up behind me, placing a warm hand against the small of my back. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped to stare, but his touch sends electricity rippling through me, as my body responds to him.

What is it about this man?

There’s a gentleness in his eyes that contrasts the calculated way he trapped me. Is the allure because his intelligence matches my own? Or is it the way his mouth felt against mine on that dance floor?

“This way,” he murmurs, guiding me through a maze of corridors.

My mind drifts back to New Year’s Eve, to our kiss at midnight.

There’s that old superstition: whoever you kiss at midnight will be significant in your coming year .

Well, if that’s true, I’m in for a complicated twelve months.

Because Finn Quinn is one hell of a kisser, and despite everything, I wouldn’t mind more of that.

We arrive at an expansive sunken living room. The dark-haired woman who brought me clothes, Piper, sits on one of the couches. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and three other women surround her, offering comfort. I recognize them from the surveillance photos I’ve studied.

These are the wives and lovers of the Quinn brothers.

Tag makes the introductions. “Ladies, this is Emilia Farina. She’s going to be helping us with our Gravely problem.”

I am, am I? That’s one hell of an assumption on his part. Is he delusional or just that confident he can sway my loyalty? I study the oldest Quinn brother. Tag is a lot of things but delusional isn’t one of them. Does he think me so easy to turn?

Well, to be fair, I hold no loyalty to Gravely.

My only concern is for my brother’s well-being.

With Tag’s announcement hanging in the heavy silence of the living room, I brace myself for hostility. None comes. They obviously don’t know I just drugged their brother-in-law. Based on the glares from Bryan, Sean, and Brendan, they certainly haven’t forgotten or forgiven me.

“Please, sit.” Tag gestures to an empty armchair.

A tall woman, Harper, I think, brings over a tray of whiskey tumblers. Each brother takes one with a quiet “Thank you” or “Cheers, luv.” The simple courtesy catches me off guard.

When was the last time I heard men speak to women with such natural respect? In my world, women are either playthings or assets to exploit. I sink into the chair, suddenly very aware of my position as an outsider in this tight-knit family circle.

Tag stands before the fireplace, tumbler in hand. “It’s been confirmed. Niall and Darcy were tracked down and killed by Gravely’s men yesterday afternoon.” His voice is steady but heavy with regret. “Samantha too.”

Piper’s breath catches, and Sean moves immediately to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“There’s still no word about Rory or Brody,” Tag continues. “But I’ve activated every asset we have on the south side to find them and bring them to safety if possible.”

“Thanks, Tag,” Piper whispers, leaning into Sean.

I can’t hide my confusion. They are genuinely grieving for Piper’s family.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asks, noticing my expression.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “The McGuires are your enemies. Your main rivals for control of Dublin. “

Finn’s eyes soften. “We love Piper. Despite everything they’ve done, her family is important to her...especially Rory.”

“In a world like ours,” Tag says, “family is precious.”

“Besides that,” Finn adds. “There’s no honor in what Gravely is doing. Attacking us during a holiday gathering of family and friends. Killing his best friend’s family after being trusted to guide them in a dangerous business. He isn’t worthy of ruling a territory.”

The Quinn Laws are something I came across dozens of times while researching and assessing the Quinn’s weaknesses. I figured they were a ploy of propaganda to help gaslight the locals. Do they actually believe in protecting the innocent?

“We’re a different kind of family,” Finn says. “Always have been.”

I look around the room—at these dangerous men who kiss their women tenderly, who mourn their enemies’ deaths, who thank someone for bringing them a drink. Maybe they really could help me find Gio. Maybe there’s a way out from under Gravely’s thumb that doesn’t end with my brother in a body bag.

“I need to tell you something,” I say, my voice stronger than I feel. “About my brother.”

Finn’s hand finds mine, his thumb tracing small circles against my skin. “We’re listening.”

His touch anchors me as I begin to explain what I know about how and where Gio is being held, about Gravely’s blackmail, about the impossible position I’m in. With each word, the weight I’ve carried alone for months feels lighter.

And when I finish, Tag Quinn looks me directly in the eyes and says, “We’re going to help you get your brother back.”

For the first time in years, I allow myself to feel something vulnerable and dangerous.

Hope.