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CONOR

“Anton,” I greeted. “This is my brother Aidan. Aidan, this is Anton.”

As both men shook hands, Anton stated, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aidan. I have heard plenty about you.”

“Plenty? From Conor?”

“No. From the city itself.” Anton’s eyes, for the first time since our initial meeting, were cold. “There are plenty of whispers about you.”

“Brothers have infiltrated the Points?”

“No, but even I know the impossibility of keeping hundreds, if not thousands, of tongues still.” He sat back in the armchair in the whiskey club where he’d asked to meet with us. “I’ve heard you’re an aficionado of whiskey.”

“Aren’t most rich men?” Aidan mocked, in full self-deprecating mode.

Studying them both, I mused on how strange it was to see Aidan cornered. It happened so rarely now that Da was gone that it was unusual.

Apparently, his vice for whiskey was becoming infamous if both Star and her grandfather were using it against him—I’d need to guard against that.

As I made a mental note of my brother’s Achilles’ heel, Anton argued, “Not unsurprisingly, my vice is vodka.” He clicked his tongue. “Though I can appreciate a nice single malt.”

As if on cue, a waiter appeared out of nowhere with three empty glasses and a bottle on a tray.

As he served us, setting a small dish of dates stuffed with salted pistachios in the center of the table before departing, Anton explained, “The Glenlivet. From 1965.”

“Beautiful vintage,” Aidan agreed, twisting the cap on the fresh bottle and then pouring the three of us a couple fingers.

Raising the glass to his nose, he took a deep inhalation. His eyes closed as he savored the notes, and curious as always to see what was so damn good about it when it might as well have been air freshener to me, I lifted the glass to my nose too but failed to be impressed by the top notes of alcohol, alcohol, and alcohol.

Anton chuckled at my grimace. “You’re not a connoisseur, Conor?”

“Alcohol’s never tempted me.”

Aidan’s eyes popped open. “Conor’s biggest temptation is work.”

“Hardly,” I scoffed.

“You’re a workaholic. No matter what Star says about us cracking the whip on you—you choose to work. Sure, you bore the burden without asking for it, but you thrive on it now.”

I scowled. “I don’t thrive on work.”

“When did you last do nothing for Acuig or the Five Points in a twenty-four-hour period?”

Scratching my nose with my middle finger and making sure he knew it was directed at him, I retorted, “Last Wednesday.”

After he took a sip that he clearly savored, he asked, “At no time on Wednesday you worked?” When my mouth tightened, he clicked his fingers. “Of course you did.”

I ignored his smug look.

“I’m not sure the leader of the Irish Mob spends much time resting on his laurels,” Anton mused, staring down into the amber liquid in his glass. “I’m well aware that you collect information on people?—”

“Conor is the best and the worst of us all,” Aidan dismissed before Anton could finish.

“You love your family, don’t you, Mr. O’Donnelly?”

He frowned. “Aidan.”

“It’s strange to me to call you that when I’ve met your father…”

“You met Da?” I blurted out with none of the formality of Aidan’s tone.

“I’m sorry to say that I have. A few times over the years.”

“You never said.”

“It never came up.”

Even Aidan was startled by this news. “Why did you… I mean, how? ”

Anton merely raised a wizened brow. “He ran New York, son. Of course, I dealt with him. Just as I’m speaking to you now. To be sure, this is on a different, far more pleasant matter, but your father and I were acquainted.”

“You didn’t like him,” I stated.

Amusement gleamed in Anton’s eyes. “I did not. Your father was… fractious.”

“Fractious is too kind an adjective. Volatile is the word you’re looking for.”

He merely bowed his head, politer than I was on the subject of Da.

“I do love my family, Anton,” Aidan said, bringing us back to the topic at hand. “Why do you ask?”

“Conor has given me some insights into why he called this meeting but I must ask… Do you understand the scrutiny you’re inviting? The risks involved?

“What are your motives for putting an O’Donnelly in the Oval Office? These are the things I must know before I can make an informed decision.”

Eyes locked on Anton, Aidan raised the glass to his nose and gently swirled the whiskey around the base.

Inhaling deeply, he explained, “If you asked any of my brothers if we liked our father, I think we’d all say that Da was not a man who needed to be liked. He was a powerhouse. Mostly, in a negative sense.

“We’re dealing with the repercussions of his parenting skills, or the lack thereof, because none of us intend to raise our own children in that way, and Seamus, my nephew, spent most of his life outside of his influence. I’m not certain I’d be making this suggestion if Da had played a major role in his childhood.”

Gently, Anton inquired, “This ‘suggestion’ is out of ego?”

“I’ll be honest and say that it started as a last hoorah for Da.” His smile was sorrowful. “Liking Da is one thing, dealing with the aftermath of him is another, and despite it all, we loved him. I thought about how none of us, not a single goddamn one of us, wanted to come into this life, and we weren’t given an option either. We had no choice.

"If Da had lived, he’d have probably forced my brother Declan into pressuring Seamus into this life, and the notion of perpetuating…” He blew out a breath. “It’s one thing to want to be a Five Pointer. There’s a cost—the risk of jail—but there are advantages too. A community—tight-knit, loyal. It comes with cash and power and respect. You don’t get that working in an office from nine to five.

“But Seamus has a vocation. Who am I to stop that, especially when he could be exactly what this country needs?

"He’s a rich kid, but he isn’t spoiled. He’s charismatic but kind. He’s already seen the worst of mankind, but he cares about the underdog.

“Is it hubris to suggest, at sixteen, he’s the right man for the job? Yes. But you tell me which president didn’t have a helping hand and wasn’t steered from a young age onto this path.”

Anton conceded that with, “Alan Davidson certainly was. Every move he made from middle school onward brought him to this point in his life.”

“Exactly. It’s naive to think future presidents aren’t being groomed as we speak. While crusty old white guys fill our most hallowed political halls, that doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way.”

“Not with how they’re resigning like rats escaping a sinking ship,” I mocked.

“Yes, the papers have definitely been interesting lately. Scandalous if you’re innocently inclined.” Anton nodded. “You have spoken with him about his future?”

“This past weekend. He wants to make a difference.”

Anton’s laugh was wistful. “Ah, to be young again.”

I grimaced because I knew exactly what he meant even though I was more than half his age. “His naivety is painful,” I admitted. “But he’s a good boy, Anton.”

“He is now. When he’s nineteen, I’ll meet with him,” was Anton’s decisive retort. “Six months into his first year of college to be precise.”

To see if being away from home turned him into a party animal.

I got it.

What was the point in investing in someone who might change his mind when freedom from Mom and Dad turned his head? But…

“At the risk of being impolite, Anton, you’re an old man.”

Anton chuckled. “This is why you and Star get along so well, Conor. You’re both blunt enough to be disarming.”

“You’d think it would trigger arguments, but it doesn’t,” Aidan agreed. “They do have a good rapport.”

“Your approval means the world to me,” I mocked, rolling my eyes at my older brother who, shaking his head, chuckled at me.

“Whether I die or not, there will be… plans put in place. He might meet with me or he might meet with my successor. Either way, he’ll meet with the United Brotherhood before we endorse him. Six months into his degree, not a moment sooner,” he pledged.

Hearing the note of finality in his tone, I knew that was as much of a concession as he’d grant us.

And to be frank, with him having influenced the current president’s elections when the man was as imperfect as he was, with as many secrets as Davidson had, that was a green light if ever I’d heard one.

“Elizabeth Davidson had ties to the éire le chéile go deo .”

Anton cut me a look. “Her husband was in the dark, but that was important to keep his nose clean.”

I had to wonder if Davidson did know about her ties because he sure as hell knew about Anton fucking her.

“So, you must know about Aoife too?”

“Naturally.”

“And still you endorsed him?” I spluttered.

“You better than anyone know the importance of a bargaining chip.” Anton shrugged. “Anyway, a malfunctioning Ireland keeps Britain at odds with the rest of the world.”

“And that’s in the Brotherhood’s favor?” Aidan questioned warily.

“Now that you’re the head of the ECD,” he mused, taking a sip of his whiskey and definitely not answering Aidan’s question, “you might find there are other means of being of service to your country before your nephew is a sitting president. Would that interest you, Aidan?”

My brother straightened in his seat. “Of course.”

Anton’s smile was cool but pleased. “I’m glad to hear that.”