Page 44 of Destructive Truths

ROHAN

“You better be joking!” Gabriel seethes, hands slapping against his desk as he pushes himself out of his desk chair. “Where the fuck is my money? It’s gone, every fucking cent.” He aims his murderous stare at Lorcan, who remains unfazed at his outburst.

“It’s out of my hands.”

Unbeknownst to my father, Lorcan’s loyalty doesn’t lie where he thinks it does. Lorcan has played the long game, gaining my father’s trust and making him believe he had an alliance within the syndicate’s High Kings. But unfortunately, as calculated as my sperm donor is, Lorcan is far more strategic—a Trojan horse who’s infiltrated the kingdom gates with plans to burn it to the ground.

If I could, I’d capture the look on Gabriel’s face—eyes flaming with rage as his nostrils flare with every heavy breath. It’s priceless, and it takes every bit of me to keep my expression clueless and hold in my laughter.

Boiling with untamed fury, Daddy Dearest picks up a crystal whiskey decanter from his desk and flings it across the room. He’d known this day was coming, but I doubt he’d thought it would happen this soon. At least not until he could put his backup plan in place. “Fix this, Reilly.”

Poised as ever, Lorcan stands across from my sperm donor with hands loosely resting in his pockets. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. As of midnight, all Ryan”—Lorcan emphasises Saoirse’s surname—“accounts have been transferred into Saoirse’s name.”

Behind the scenes, Lorcan has been pushing the syndicate council for this outcome, but they were slow to move. For a moment, I didn’t think he’d pull it off. They wanted to wait until Saoirse finished her initiation, but luckily, Lorcan convinced them the Ryan estate and all holdings belong with the last remaining Ryan heir, relieving my father of every ounce of control.

“No. No. I won’t accept this.” Gabriel tugs at his tie as he paces back and forth behind his desk. “Who signed off on this?” He halts, glaring daggers at Lorcan. “She hasn’t even begun her trials. This is fucking ridiculous. I want that money back in my account by the end of the day.”

Lorcan keeps his mask in place as he shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry, King. But there’s nothing I can do. It was put to a vote, and the majority agreed. The Ryan Foundation belongs to Saoirse Ryan.”

Gabriel’s hands fly to his head, and he threads his fingers through the chaotic strands. Frustration rolls off him like raging thunder. “A vote?” He grinds through his teeth. “Where was I for this decision? I am one of the four High Kings, they cannot put a vote into motion without my presence.”

I mash my lips together, sealing them tight as I bathe in the glory of the first stage of my father’s demise. He’s about to blow a fuse, and fuck, I can’t wait.

“I’m afraid they can.” Lorcan offers, keeping his face free from delight. “I questioned their decision to leave you out of the voting process, but unfortunately, I was overruled.”

“This is unacceptable.” Gabriel rounds his deck and steps into Lorcan’s space. “Get me my fucking money back, right fucking now.”

With ease, Lorcan removes his hands from his pockets and folds his arms across his chest. “I don’t know who you think you’re fuckin’ speaking’ to, King. But you best remember your place.” His lilt rolls off his tongue, wrapped in condescension yet perfectly controlled.

“My place?” My father’s shoulders rise with temper. “My place is the head of the Leinster Syndicate, and you’d do well to remember that.”

“Nah, see,”— Lorcan rolls his shoulders back, straightening his spine as jaw muscles flex—“that’s where you’re mistaken. Once Saoirse Ryan completes her trials, she will fully control the Leinster chapter. The syndicate will see to it.” Lorcan’s words carry a slight edge, but he’s careful with his wording, keeping Gabriel where he needs him.

Darkness crosses Gabriel’s eyes. “It won’t come to that. I’m not losing a lifetime of work to an eighteen-year-old tramp who spreads her legs for anyone with a swinging member between theirs. Saoirse will not pass her trials, not if I have anything to do with it.”

“And how do you stop her?” I open my mouth for the first time since entering his office.

My father’s glare falls on me, and he steps closer, closing the distance between us. “Don’t ever question me, boy. I’ve been training Hannah night and day, and I can assure you she will wipe the floor with Ms Ryan. I’ve made sure of it.”

“Training?” I cluck. “Is that what you’re calling it now? ’Cause from where I’m standing, the only thing you’ve trained Hannah in is how to suck your wrinkly cock as if it’s an Olympic sport.”

His hand flies out and latches around my neck in a vice grip. I tilt my head to the ceiling, and his fingers tighten, crushing my windpipe. “Listen here, you disrespectful runt. Where I stick my dick is none of your concern. Keep pushing my buttons, and I’ll give you a front-row seat when I bend your bitch over and ram my dick up her arse.”

Over his shoulder, I see the moment Lorcan snaps. He’s never one to lose his composure, always looking at the broader perspective, but unbeknownst to Gabriel, he’s just released the fuckin’ beast.

In the next breath, Lorcan swiftly removes his Glock from his waistband and then presses it against Gabriel’s head. “You’ve point one of a second to let him go, or I’ll paint these office walls in your blood.”

Daddy Dearest tightens his hold as he cranks his neck towards Lorcan with eyes wide. “What the fuck are you doing?” He barks, but I can feel his shudder of nervousness against my throat.

Lorcan pushes against the butt of the gun, digging it harder into the side of my father’s forehead. “Do as I tell ye, King.”

He loosens his grip, and I draw in a breath, filling my lungs with some much-needed air.

Slowly, Gabriel raises his hands in surrender, then twists to face Lorcan—who keeps his gun trained on his target. “What’s this about? Since when did you give two fucks about my boy, Reilly?” He questions before falling silent, too fucking silent. “Unless…” He steps back.

“Rí.” Lorcan grabs my attention, then tilts his chin to his left, silently telling me to come and stand next to him.

I don’t hesitate, stepping away from my father, who looks like he’s just cracked open The Da Vinci Code.

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