Page 52 of Unwillingly His

I shook my head. Her primary responsibility was to keep people the fuck out of my office. That included my son, and it damn well included Ronin O’Murphy.

How hard could it be for a woman alone to stand up to one of the biggest Irish mob bosses in the city?

The only reason I wasn’t firing her on the spot was because Ronan was not at my desk snooping through shit. He was sitting at the side table setting up the chess board, which was how we preferred to do business.

If a man was cunning enough to talk strategy while playing chess, it could tell you more about the person on the opposite end of the table than doing just one or the other. I knew that if a man’s strategy changed in the game while we were speaking, then his strategy had changed in the conversation as well.

If a man who was usually indecisive with moves had a sudden rush of confidence, that meant he was hiding something.

If a man who was usually decisive paused too often and took too much time making simple moves, then he didn’t have all the information. There was some other influence at play.

Ronin was the first man I’d never been able to get a solid read on while playing chess. He was also one of the few who could give me a run for my money.

Most men I could beat in under twenty moves. A few took a little longer, and Ronin and I ended in stalemates more often than we finished the game. As far as we were both concerned, a tie was just as bad as a loss.

“Ronin,” I said, stepping into my office. “Did my secretary offer you coffee?”

“She did, but I know she doesn’t brew the good shit until you’re in the office.”

I laughed like it was some kind of joke, but it was the truth, and he knew it. I signaled to my secretary to make a pot.

I took the seat opposite Ronin, setting my briefcase off to the side. Truth be told, I really didn’t need it. Ronan was the only reason I had to come into this office today. Everything else was better done where there were fewer snooping eyes.

It was Ronin’s turn to play white. So he moved his pawn to E4. Classic opening. I immediately balanced it, moving my pawn to E5.

His next move was a knight to F3. Aggressive. Something was pissing him off.

“How’s business, Ronin?” I asked as I moved my knight to C6, mirroring his moves on my side.

“Work is being made more and more difficult by your son and his brother-in-law.” He moved the bishop to C4. He was in a mood. “I thought Luc married that Astrid bitch so he could control her brother, not join his side.”

“You know my son is his own man, and I can’t control him. I didn’t raise weak children, though with how stubborn they are sometimes, I wish I did,” I said, moving my bishop to C5.

He stared at the board, nodding, thinking. He wasn’t thinking about the move. He was too good of a player to have to stop and think this early into a game.

He was trying to figure out the strategy for dealing with me and whatever the fuck was on his mind.

He moved a pawn up one to C3 before leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think you understand how serious this situation is. Your son is friends with the DA and is giving him privileged information. Information that implicates a lot of people in the family. And we know the District Attorney has his eyes set on a higher office. It looks like he’s trying to use us to get him there. It doesn’t help that his mother has decided that my men are at her disposal.”

“Jesus fuck, what is Mary Quinn doing now?”

Her involvement in my daughter’s shooting by Zeigler could not be proven, but I had my suspicions. The entire sordid mess had her dirty paw prints all over it.

I moved my knight to F6. It wasn’t the best move. I could have slid my bishop over, taken a pawn, and moved into a position to check. But I didn’t want to antagonize Ronin before he got to whatever his point was.

The look he gave me told me he knew exactly what I was doing and didn’t appreciate it.

“Mary Quinn is doing what that stuck-up, stick figure of a bitch does best. Sticking her fake nose where it doesn’t belong.” He curled his lip in disgust as he moved a pawn to D4, blocking my bishop to take a different pawn and block the position to take his queen.

“Is she really the biggest problem you’re having right now?” I asked, moving my bishop down one and putting him in check.

Ronin was off-kilter this morning. Something was going on with the Irish families that he wasn’t ready to tell me, but he needed me involved.

He blocked my check by moving his bishop to D2, and I saw him fray a little bit.

Something big was about to go down.

“Talk to me, Ronin. What’s happening? How can I help?”

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