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DECLAN

M y knuckles turn white as I brace myself and knock on my father’s door, the wood cold beneath my touch.

“Come in, son,” his deep voice booms through.

I’m angry at him, but he’s probably more furious with me.

Twisting the knob, it creaks open, revealing him sitting behind his desk, a glass of amber whiskey swirling in his hand. The scent of aged oak and leather hangs heavy in the air.

Losing Mom last year has aged him.

She was the better half of him. The good part. That made him the father we needed him to be.

Perhaps it was the shock. One minute she was fine, cooking us our Sunday dinner. Within an hour of us leaving, her heart gave out, and Dad couldn’t save her. Nor could the doctors.

She was gone and our family has been left with a gaping hole.

“You don’t need to fuckin’ knock, boy,” he tells me with a grin, pouring my glass of whiskey as I take a seat opposite him.

“It’s ten a.m.” I joke.

“Shove it in some coffee, then. Us Quinns are made of steel.”

I nod, accepting the fiery drink, and knock it back in one gulp. The burn chases away some of my anger.

I can’t be mad at the old man. He made me who I am today.

“James’s dead, Declan.” There’s a hint of worry in his voice.

“I thought that might be the case. He was mangled.”

Dad looks down at his wedding ring and sighs.

“I got off the phone with Charles Bowen this morning. It ain’t good, son. We need to make the moves now.” He gives me a knowing look.

Meaning our alliance with the States. We have an opening to set a fresh path there, through a guy named Enzo.

We haven’t seen the need. Our shipping routes are well established, with enough guns and drugs being moved to fund our empire. And we funnel it through our whiskey distillery. It’s a neat cycle. It’s worked for generations.

“What’s our plan?” I ask as I roll up my sleeves and lean back.

He shakes his head.

“Son, it’s about time you oversaw this. I’m getting too old, and the likelihood is we’re about to have a war on our doorstep. I need you and your brothers out of the way. I don’t want an American empire for myself, I want it for my sons. And only you can do that for me.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s trained me my entire life for this role.

Everything has been calculated. I am the strategist. The leader. Conan, the muscle, fearless and loyal, and Finn. He’s our superpower. Unimaginably clever and devious. A trainee surgeon by day, and lord knows what he gets up to at night.

Nothing gets past him. No one crosses him. It’s like he sees the future. He knows what will go down before it does.

“You know I’ve got this, Dad. But how?”

He shrugs, pouring himself another glass.

“I’ve set you a meeting with Enzo. He has, let’s say, opportunities for you boys. It’s a whole new world over there. And once you’re set up, we can merge the Irish branch with the American branch. The Quinns will be unstoppable.”

Scratching my stubble, I let the ideas swirl around in my brain. There’s always a fucking cost.

“At what price?”

He throws his hands up in the air.

“I don’t know. Enzo isn’t a man of many words. But he has connections, he has power. If we are aligned with him, you boys will be safe.”

“You want me to sell my soul?” I chuckle, but he doesn’t join me.

He frowns, running a hand through his white hair.

“Maybe part of it. Being a boss is a ruthless game. There is no time for weakness, boy. I know you have it in you. Let the world believe the Quinn brothers are true embodiments of evil. The villains of this game. It will give you respect. You want them to fear you. That’s the only way you can play to win. But just never lose that golden heart your mother gave you. Keep her alive through her boys for me.”

Fuck.

I rub at my chest as the pain radiates. I miss her so damn much.

She was the light in our dark lives. There was nothing a hug from her couldn’t solve.

There was even comfort to be found when she slapped us on the back of the head.

She was our safe space. And now she’s gone. All four of us are lost.

Maybe this new start is what we need. Build a new empire.

“I understand.”

“Good. I’m confident you’ll do well. Just keep an eye on Conan. His temper is your only weakness that I see.”

“He wasn’t ready to fight again, Dad. I told you.”

A sadness washes over his face. I can sense his disappointment.

“I know, son. I know. I just thought maybe going back to the one thing he found joy in would be the answer.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“You let a killing machine in a cage and expected no blood?”

That gets a smile out of him.

“Lapse in judgement. I’m getting old. All he had to do was fall on his ass and we’d have a boatload of cash right now.”

My eyes roll, a clear sign of my exasperation.

“We don’t need money. And since when has Conan ever listened to us?”

He chews his lip, deep in thought. Almost as if he is reminiscing as he smiles.

“He only listened to your mother. Remember that time at school when he nearly strangled that boy to death for stealing his sandwich?”

I shake my head, a chuckle rumbling in my chest.

“How the fuck could I forget that? Mom was furious. I’ve never seen her that mad. I vaguely recall a saucepan being thrown at the wall.”

“Yep. That was her. Sweet as pie until you pissed her off, then all hell broke loose.”

That glimmer in his eye appears. It’s there every time he talks about her.

“She was angry because he publicly embarrassed the family name. Not because he defended himself. That was her motto. She wanted you guys to be respected outside. Not thugs. But behind the scenes, she had no issues with seeking revenge. If Conan would have gone to the boy’s house in the middle of the night and then taught him a lesson, without a crowd, she wouldn’t have batted an eye. It’s about being feared for the right reasons.”

I solemnly nod. Even talking about her, the memories, as much as they bring joy, bring pain alongside them.

“Good job we have you, then. We can get through to Conan.”

He looks up at the clock and back at me, his dark blue eyes burning into me.

“This old man won’t be around forever, son.”

“You’re sixty-eight. Plenty of years left.”

He spins the glass on the wooden table.

“I hope so. But honestly, just know when I go, I’ll be at peace with it. I miss your mother, and you boys have each other.”

“You ain’t going anywhere.”

He can’t. We need him.

“Now, back to Enzo. You three are going to take a little trip.” He smirks.

I raise a brow. “To where?”

“Italy,” he replies.

“When?”

“Tonight. Jet is ready. You just have to pack.”

He pulls out a burner phone from his desk drawer and slides it across to me.

“His men will meet you on the landing strip. You will have to pass a test first to secure the meet.”

I twirl the cool, smooth ring on my index finger, feeling its weight.

“A job in Italy? That sounds fun.”

“Be prepared for anything, son. Use your brothers to your advantage, but I suspect it will be mostly on you. You represent the Quinns to Enzo.”

My heart pounds a rapid rhythm of excitement and apprehension, a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“You trust Enzo?”

“I would not send my eldest son to meet him if I didn’t. He’s a businessman. But he’s far more than that. Do not underestimate his power nor skill. If you win him over, the world is at your feet. If you piss him off, he will destroy everything we’ve built. For the love of God, do not cross him. Ever, Declan. There isn’t a place on this earth he couldn’t hunt you down. The man sees and knows everything.”

“Perfect. He’s omnipotent. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing if you keep him on your side. Mr. Testa is the God of the mafia underworld. If he allows us in, that power is shared.”

I slide the phone into my jacket pocket.

“I have faith that once he meets you, he will see what I see in you. Powerful. Ruthless. A born leader. It’s natural to you, son. You will make the Quinn family great again.”

“No pressure,” I chuckle.

There is. A lot of it. The weight of our empire is on my shoulders.

“Diamonds form under pressure, boy. That’s how we got here, and that’s how we move forward.”

I nod.

“How come we never heard of him before this point if he’s that big of a deal?”

He lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head.

“Only he decides who knows of his existence. The mere fact we know his name, means he sees value in us. If he asks you to get on your knees and kiss his fucking boot, you do it.”

I scoff.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t have a thing for boot kissing,” I joke.

Pushing myself up out of the chair, I stand.

“Conquer the world, son. You’ll do me proud. I know you will.” He taps his fist over his heart.

“I’ll do everything I can, Dad.” I nod to him and head towards the door.

I’ve had twenty-nine years to prepare for this.

“I don’t say this enough, but I love you, Dec. You and your brothers mean everything to me.”

The sincerity in his voice makes me stop.

I turn to face him one last time and smile.

“We all love you too.”