Page 39 of Brutal Power

I let them bicker for a little while longer. Seamus is adamant against fighting and Molly generally agrees, while Declan and Nolan are pro-war and on my side. Caitlin’s somewhere in the middle, though I think she would prefer if we remained in our own lane and didn’t risk any bloodshed.

But in the end, the decision falls on my shoulders. It always does. No matter how much I want to spread the responsibility around, I took my father’s position because I knew it had to be me. It was always going to be me.

“We’re fighting,” I say once there’s a lull in the conversation. “Seamus and Molly, you both make good points, and if either of you decides you don’t want to be directly involved then I won’t force it on you.”

Seamus rolls his eyes. “Fuck you, bro. If you fight, we fight.”

I’m grateful for that, but I’ll express it later. “You all need to understand that this is about growth. We’ve stagnated for a long time under Dad’s leadership and you all know it. Yes, we have a good thing going, we have some territory and a good amount of men working for our organization, but the world is changing. Small groups like ours can’t compete like we used to, and our margins are getting thinner, and our scores are getting smaller, and one day we’ll find that we really are just lawyers and nothing else. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. I think this is our opportunity.”

Everyone’s staring. I can feel some of Seamus’s skepticism beginning to waver.

“How?” Declan asks, breaking the tense silence.

“Bianco and Santoro are going to fight, but one of them will win, and the other will lose. Once that happens, there will be new territory to split up, money and opportunities to seize. I’m betting on the Biancos, and I want to make sure we’re right there when it’s time to redraw the lines.”

“You really think Simon Bianco is going to reward us?” Seamus asks, looking dubious. “It’s a big risk.”

“Don’t forget who my wife is. He’s not dumb.” I look at my siblings, one at a time. “I won’t force this on any of you, but I’m going to tell the organization in the next few days what the plan is. We’re officially joining the war.”

I let that sink in. Seamus still isn’t convinced, and Molly looks nauseous at the thought, but at least Declan and Nolan seem like they’re both ready and raring to start pulling the trigger. Caitlin slips out first, shaking her head as she leaves.

We disperse back to our offices. Seamus comes with me, not saying much. I can feel his displeasure, and he doesn’t sit down once we reach my desk.

“You know I support you,” he says and when I don’t respond, he looks frustrated. “But this isn’t our way.”

“You mean, this isn’t our father’s way,” I say and meet his hard gaze. “But Dad’s dead and I’m in charge. I don’t need you on the front lines, but I need to make sure you’re with me.”

Seamus waves a hand at me and turns to the door. “Don’t insult me. The Quinn clan sticks together. Even when our boss makes a dumb call.” He walks out, and I don’t feel reassured.

Elena’s waitingfor me back home. It’s day five of her time living at my place, two days past the agreed upon three, and more of her clothes keep showing up.

She’s still not sleeping in my room. Every night I lie in bed and think about her curling up by my side, or straddling my hips and riding me until we both pass out from exhaustion, or her warm breath on my neck in the middle of the night. I know it isn’t going to happen anytime soon, and maybe it’s better this way. I’m already making big decisions because of my emotions, and my father always taught me to step back from how I feel before letting it affect my actions. I’ve always worked hard to be like him, and now it’s like that image of myself is beginning to slip away.

“I’ve been thinking about your zoning issue,” Elena says as she plates dinner. I don’t know when she got so damn domestic,but I like it. Part of me thinks she’s been cooking so much to compensate for her boredom. She’s not the type of woman that enjoys being cooped up far away from her family and support system, and even though we’re just ten minutes south, that must feel like forever when she’s used to walking out her front door.

“Don’t tell me you want to have another dinner with Omar Ali. I suspect that won’t work.”

“I bet I could win him over.” She fills our wine glasses and sits across the table.

“You probably think you could win over anyone.”

“I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m adorable and charming.” She gives me a big, cheesy smile. “But seriously, it seems like Omar’s never going to change his mind, right?”

“I think that’s pretty fair to say at this point.”

“That means we need a bigger fish.” She fingers the rim of her glass and leans toward me. I watch her lips and feel my mouth water at the thought of kissing her and tasting red wine on her tongue. “I’m thinking we go after O’Malley.”

I narrow my eyes. “She doesn’t play politics.”

“No, she doesn’tthinkshe plays politics, but O’Malley’s a person like anyone else, and if you can get her, you can get half the board with her.”

“Wonderful suggestion, but how do you think that’ll work?”

“Give me a little time to figure it out, but I have some ideas.” She leans closer. “Now tell me that I’m a wonderful cook.”

“You’re a wonderful cook. And you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” She pats her hair and beams at me. Fuck, I love that look in her eye, the way it sparkles with barely restrained excitement. “Now enjoy before all my hard work gets cold.”

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