Page 2 of Vicious Vines

Three weeks ago, my father, Sean O'Neil, captured the girlfriend of a rival family, the Calders. What my father didn't know was that Finn and I had been working with Kieran Calder for years to figure out how to bring my father down.

Sean was everything one should hate about organized crime and the families that ran everything behind the scenes. He didn't care about morals or ethics, didn't care who got hurt, as long as he got more money and power. That meant trafficking and dealing with stolen weapons, pushing drugs out on the streets and getting kids high and hooked. Sean was a racist, sexist pig who I never called Dad. He didn't deserve that title.

So I helped Calder by shooting the gun right out of my father's hand before he could execute Kieran's girlfriend on our front lawn.

That same night, Finn was shot, and he was just released from the hospital, first recovering from surgery and then the infection he developed afterwards. I immediately took over as family head because everything was in complete chaos after my father died.

Walking inside the manor, I pause, letting the cool breeze of the air conditioning rush over my sweaty skin, savoring the small moment before making my way to the staircase that leads to my tower room. I sigh as I make my way to my closet, tossing off my training gear and donning black dress pants and a cream silk top, slipping on my black pumps with silver spikes on the heels as I run a brush through my hair. I no longer have to worry about doing much with it. Sean always made me keep my light blonde tresses long and loose, ever the perpetual bride. The morning after he died, I took scissors and a clipper to my hair, shaving off one side and shaping the other into a choppy bob.

Finishing my look with a touch of makeup that includes ruby red lips, I stride through the hallway and down the stairs to my office. My stilettos click on the hardwood and every pair of eyes waiting turns to me as I make my way to the desk, ready to deal with whatever sloppy power grabs these sharks are trying to pull today.

As predicted, the wolves begin circling as soon as I sit down, eager to find a chink in my armor. What these made men have yet to learn is that I was born in this world and donned my sword and shield before I could walk. Weakness was beaten out of me long ago.

I have to resist rolling my eyes as the men begin all speaking up about the same thing, trying to outshout each other.

"We need to do something about the Calders," Lenny Boyle stands up as he speaks. "With Kieran stepping down, they might become a threat."

I do roll my eyes at this and wave my hand at Lenny to get him to sit the fuck back down.

"The Calders aren't going to be a problem. I've known Liam for years. We'll work together like we've always done."

"Working together is what got Sean killed!" George Malone shrieks. The room stills as I narrow my eyes at George. He's a middle-aged man with a balding head and growing belly, and his coal-black eyes dart to me in fear. I've always wondered if George supported my father, as I could never prove it one way or another. I guess I can prove it now.

My rule is tenuous as best, as much as I wish it were otherwise. A takeover where the ruler is the Queen no one expected is a hard pill for those like George to swallow. There are rumors, soft yet persistent, slithering through the undercurrents of our world. Whispers that doubt my place at the helm, not merely because I am a woman, but because my temper is as notorious as it is lethal. They say I rule with an iron fist wrapped in velvet, that my gaze alone can sentence a man to his end. They aren't wrong.

I glance at Ethan, who is standing in the shadows of a corner, and he nods. George will no longer be a problem after tonight.

"Silence." The command slips from me like smoke, quiet but suffocating. "Strength is not merely about numbers; it's about loyalty. And those who cannot pledge their undying fealty to our cause have no place amongst us."

Whispers slithered through the shadows, as eyes avoided mine, fearing the cold finality they might find. I purged the ranks after I took the reins, an unforgiving cull that left vacancies where treachery once festered.

"The Calders are not our focus right now. They are our allies. It's everyone else we have to monitor."

A murmur of agreement ripples across the room, the higher-ups exchanging glances that speak volumes of the unspoken fears—fears of other families who might see our momentary frailty as an opportunity.

"Remember," I continue, the sapphire of my eyes locking onto each member, "we are predators, not prey. And should anyone think to take advantage of this transition, they will find themselves clasped in the jaws of a beast far more formidable than they've ever imagined."

My gaze lingers on the faces of my council, searching for any flicker of hesitation, any shadow of betrayal. They know the cost of challenging my rule—a price paid in blood and silence. I will not lose my throne, not by man nor by fear.

"Are we understood?" I ask, the words slipping out like the caress of a lover, dangerous and enticing.

"We are," they answer, a chorus of subdued thunder, sealing their fate to mine.

"Good," I whisper, a smile playing on my lips, the kind that promised both pleasure and pain. "Then let us show the world the true strength of the O'Neil family."

The doors suddenly swing open and Liam Calder strides in, his piercing gaze immediately finding mine. A jolt of electricity sparks through me at the sight of his tattooed features and muscular frame. Though years have passed, the chemistry between us remains undeniable.

I keep my face an impassive mask, though my pulse quickens. What game is he playing by coming here unannounced?

Liam strides towards me with a smirk I know brings others to their knees, the charming sensuality of Eros himself. But I am no timid maid. I am Sloane O'Neil, and I bow to no man.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Calder?" I ask coolly.

Liam's mouth twitches before he turns it into a full smile. In warmth or warning, I can't tell. "I'm simply paying a... social call." His eyes rake over me slowly. "It has been too long, Sloane."

My subordinates shift uncomfortably, sensing the tension coiling between us.

I tilt my chin up, refusing to be intimidated. "Indeed. Perhaps you've forgotten you are on O'Neil territory uninvited."

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