Page 3 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

RORY

I arrive at Kellan’s precisely at six, buoyed by the meeting I’d had with Senator Burns the other day. Walking inside, the aroma of herb-crusted lamb hits me first, rich and seasoned with rosemary and thyme, mingling with the faint, buttery scent of roasted vegetables.

Strolling into the sitting room, I glance over to see Liam lounging on the couch, a scowl on his face as he texts furiously with someone. Lucky is entertaining Rose, who is regaling him with tales from her preschool while Alannah walks around holding Patrick, bouncing him on her hip.

“Rory’s here!” I hear Darcy’s voice from the kitchen, and I step inside, kissing her on the cheek as I hand her a bottle of Chateau Margaux Merlot.

“Thank you,” she says, a warm smile on her face. “Dinner is almost ready. Kellan is in his study if you want to go get him.”

With a nod, I head across the living room for the hallway, stopping short in front of his office door. I give it a sharp rap, and when he calls for me to come in, I step inside and shut the door.

“I was told to fetch you,” I say, leaning against the door.

“Just tinkering with a few ideas on some expansions,” Kellan says, the clattering of keys punctuating his words. “I want to get ahead of things. You seem to be worried about a Russian retaliation so I’m trying to be proactive.”

“Funny story about that,” I say, quirking a half-smile. “Truth be told, I have some business to discuss along those lines at dinner.”

“What is it?” Kellan asks, finally looking up.

“I want to wait until we can all talk about it,” I say, shrugging. “Let’s go get some of that tasty-smelling lamb I got a whiff of on the way in.”

Kellan follows me out of the office, and the two of us cross the living room, filing behind the rest of our siblings as we head to the dining room.

We all sit down together, the clink of silverware and the gentle hum of conversation filling the room as we begin to eat.

“How’s your little girlfriend?” I hear Lucky tease Liam. He goes red in the face and glances down at his phone. With the amount of texting our brother has been doing lately, Lucky has decided that it means Liam’s been seeing someone.

While I don’t give a flying fuck about his personal life, Lucky’s been taking every opportunity to do some good-natured teasing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam mumbles, shoving his phone into his pocket. Rose quickly diverts attention away from her uncle when she knocks over her glass of milk, spilling it across the plastic placemat under her plate.

“Dammit,” Darcy mutters, jumping up from her seat. Kellan follows, grabbing Rose under her arms to lift her, pulling her away from the wet mess while Darcy mops up the puddle.

“Saved by the kiddo,” Alannah jokes, giving Rose a high-five. Rose grins, not fully understanding what she did but thrilled to bond with her aunt anyway.

Once the mess is cleaned, dinner resumes and the promised lamb makes its appearance on the table, accompanied by a rich cream soup.

As we eat, I take a moment to clear my throat.

“I had something I wanted to discuss with everyone,” I say, reaching for my wine.

“Senator Burns and I had a lunch meeting the other day, and he brought a few things to my attention.”

“Burns is probably trying to angle for more money for his campaign,” Liam mutters, ever the skeptic.

“No, that’s not what we discussed,” I insist, smoothing a hand across the linen tablecloth.

“We talked about business. He made me realize something. The Russians may have lost the fight with us that day at the old shipyard, but they’ve won the war.

Their side dealt more damage to our reputation than we can sustain. ”

“We’re rebuilding,” Kellan says, bypassing my statement. “We can fix it.”

“We’re hemorrhaging money, you fools,” I hiss. “We need to do something before it gets worse. Burns showed me that we’re focusing on the wrong thing here. We’re trying to gain back control of the family business, but what we should be doing is expanding, diversifying.”

“What are you saying?” Lucky asks, looking up sharply. “Drugs? Girls?”

I shake my head. “None of that shit. We go legit. Get into the security business. Offer our services to the rich and famous, show them we can protect them.”

“Leave the family business behind?” Kellan asks, a note of doubt in his voice. “That’s beyond crazy, Rory.”

I sit up straighter. “Hear me out on this. We’ve been small-time for a long time.

Dad might’ve built us up, but at the end of the day, we have no more power around here than the Russians.

We’re just a small-time criminal empire in a mid-size city.

What if we could go beyond that, spread our wings, and make something of the Brannagan family name? ”

Liam furrows his brow. “Like take control of the whole state?”

“Bigger.” I smile, my grin widening. “We could be as big as one of those media empire families or those brothers who own half the business world.”

“Aren’t you worried that getting into the security business might encroach on Russian territory?” Alannah offers, speaking up from where she’s been helping to feed Patrick. “It’s a good idea, but the Russians might feel like we’re stepping on their toes.”

“The Russians are low-level thugs. We get into this kind of business, and we’re no longer anywhere near their level. Besides, this has nothing to do with any of the shit we already run, so why would they care?”

“You’re underestimating the Russians' desire to see us fail,” Alannah says, her voice soft but firm. “I think we should think this through more.”

“We have nothing to lose from moving away from competing with the Russians on their level,” Liam argues.

The debate continues, but by the end of dinner, the consensus among my brothers seems to be that the security venture is a good idea, though there are still a few logistics to work out.

When Darcy and Kellan head into the bedroom to put Rose and Patrick down for bed, Liam goes out to the balcony for a smoke, and Lucky takes a phone call on the roof, the opportunity I need finally presents itself.

I pull Alannah aside in the kitchen.

“You need to go back to school,” I say, starting the conversation without preamble. “I let you take this past year off to help Darcy, but it’s time to go back.”

“Rory,” Alannah begins, a frown pulling at her lips.

“No,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m tired of you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Go back to school, Lana.”

“You never listen to me!” Alannah says, putting her hands on her hips.

“Because you’re just a kid,” I tell her firmly. “You have no experience in our world. My job is to protect you from this kind of stuff, Lana. You’re always trying to stick your nose in things, but you don’t belong here. You belong at school—safe, away from all of this.”

“The rest of you guys are involved,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes at me.

“You’ll do what I say, or I’ll cut off your funding,” I warn her, my voice low and serious. “We chose this life, but we want better for you. That’s why you’re in school in the first place.”

Alannah rolls her eyes, and for a moment, she looks like she’s going to argue, but then her shoulders slump, the fight draining from her.

“Fine,” she murmurs. “But I won’t be in school forever, Rory.”

She shoves past me, her shoulder knocking into mine as she grabs her jacket and bag, stomping out the door.

Better she be angry at me than put in harm’s way , I think as I head back to the living room.

Once the kids are asleep, Kellan and Darcy come back out, and we sit around chatting for another hour before the rest of us take our leave.

The next day at work, I’m still reveling in the success of my proposal from the night before, confident that nothing can possibly bring down my mood. That is… until I get the call.

“Brannagan,” I say, leaning back in my chair, the smile still lingering from last night.

“It’s Frankie,” he announces. “I got bad news, Boss. The pub we own down by the docks, O’Shaugnessy’s…” He pauses. “The property managers are threatening an eviction.”

My smile fades. We’ve been in that place for twenty years. Not only that, but the place is really more of a front for cleaning our money. An eviction might give the cops ammunition. I inhale deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What’s going on over there, Frankie?” I demand.

“I think Louie’s been stealin’ from ya,” Frankie says, his voice sour. “I knew trustin’ that man was no good, sir. We think he’s been pocketing the rent money you give ’im.”

“Louis Gibbs?” I ask, clarifying.

“That’s the one,” he confirms. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

“No,” I say, sitting up straighter, my earlier calm replaced with cold determination. “I’ll put Liam on it.”

“Oh, damn.” Frankie whistles. “You’re makin’ an example out of ’im then.”

“Exactly,” I say, my lip curling into a smirk. “No one steals from the Brannagan family. He must be looking for an early retirement if he thinks he’s gotten away with it.”

I hang up with Frankie and immediately call my brother. “I need you to fix a situation for me,” I tell him. “Louis Gibbs has been skimming the rent money at O’Shaughnessy’s.”

“How do you want it handled?” Liam asks, his tone eager, almost gleeful.

“Make sure everyone knows exactly how bad it is to cross one of the Brannagans,” I say, reaching for a letter opener and opening the stack of mail on my desk. “I want something to remember our dear Louie by too.”

“Got it,” Liam says before hanging up.

I’m halfway through the mail when Clary walks into my office, bringing me a cup of coffee from the place down the street. I take it without a word, but the warm steam rising from the mug barely registers.

“I heard what happened,” she says, pushing the cup toward me. “I know your brother is handling things, but what’s going to happen with the pub?”

“I’ll figure it out,” I say, taking a sip. It’s perfect—exactly the way I like it.

“Someone needs to sort out the issue with the property managers,” she points out. Her voice is calm, but her words are deliberate. “I could do that. I can handle logistical operations on something like that for you.”

I glance up from my paperwork, considering her words.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I don’t like the idea of her handling anything like this.

“You’ve got plenty to do around here,” I say, scanning over a financial statement from the bank.

I frown. “There’s men I pay to do that kind of thing, anyway. ”

“Yeah, but you can’t always trust them,” she replies, her voice soft but growing more confident with every word. “What if I took over managing O’Shaughnessy’s? I’d make sure the rent was always paid on time directly from our accounts, and I could even…”

I cut her off, unwilling to entertain the thought for even a second. “The idea intrigues me,” I admit, “but I’m not interested. You can’t be here and managing a business like that at the same time. I appreciate your trying to take on more responsibility, but let me handle this stuff, Clary.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her gaze unwavering. Then, with a frown, she turns toward the door. But before she leaves, her hand grips the doorknob and she pauses, turning to face me once more. There’s a fire in her eyes now, something fierce that wasn’t there before.

“You know,” she says softly, her words cutting through the space between us, “you always underestimate me.” Her voice is quiet, but it holds weight. “One of these days, you’ll be sorry that you did.”

Her words linger in the air as she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her. I stare at the empty space where she stood, her challenge ringing in my ears. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I have underestimated her.