Page 67 of Dublin Devil

Did I ever matter to them, or was I simply the end of the lucky streak of Da making boys? Looking back on my life and viewing it through that lens clears up so many moments in my childhood.

They always said I was naïve. They were right.

Only mynaïvetéwasn’t about the business and the workings of the world, it was about my value within the world they created.

I descend the stairs with a fire in my heart and the knowledge that this is a ‘them’ problem. My arrival into the kitchen brings a rush of silence.

My parents are sitting in their usual seats, looking disdainful and cold. Rory and Brody are eating and keeping their headsdown. Darcy is standing at the counter in front of the toaster. And Niall is blessedly absent.

“Good morning, everyone.”

My mother looks up from where she’s worshipping her coffee mug at the table. “What’s so good about it?”

“Nothing at all.” I reach into the cupboard to get a glass. “I was simply trying to be civil.”

“Och,nowyou try. You could’ve used some of that civility last week when you were sent to charm the Russians. Do you understand how important that was to our family?”

I’m ready for the comment, so I don’t even flinch.Point to me. “You mean while those hairy brutes pinned me down and to rape me? I’m sorry Da’s plan didn’t work out, but I wasn’t expecting to be gifted to strangers like a party favor. I’m a McGuire—I fought back.”

“You’re no McGuire,” Da snaps. “McGuires know what it means to sacrifice for the business that keeps us in power—a business that keeps a fancy roof over your head and a bank account full of money so you can go shopping every ten minutes.”

I pour myself a glass of juice and lean on the center island, facing them. With a subtle finger swiping over my ear, I move my hair, so they get a good look at the black eye and the raw flesh of my cheek.

“You asked me to entertain them through dinner and then show them to their suite. You asked me to be charming and ensure they had a good time. I did that. What youdidn’task me about was an arranged marriage, or being whored out, or being shipped to Russia as a trophy for a bunch of rapists and killers.”

Da’s gaze narrows. “Watch your mouth, young lady. You don’t know enough about things to stand there and judge me.”

“Maybe not, but I saw the contract. Vladmir shoved it in my face as he blackened my eye and ripped up my cheek with hisBratva ring. My eyes may have been watering at the time, but I saw you offered your virgin daughter as a signing bonus, and I saw your signature making it official.”

“Marital alliances are made between powerful families all the time, little girl. You know this.”

“I know it happens and maybe something could’ve been worked out if I was consulted and had a say about who it would be and where I would live, but you can’t just give me away to secure a gun deal.”

“I can and I did.”

Rory’s spoon falls into his bowl and he pushes away from his place at the table. “Seriously? I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to explain to Piper that she misunderstood, or that the Russians made it up. Are you honestly saying you sold her virginity to secure weapons? That’s cold, Da.”

Thank the stars for Rory.

At least one person in my family truly loves me.

Da throws Rory a hard stare. “Enough from you, boy. I am the head of this family and don’t answer to any of you. Securing an alliance with the Russians is tactically necessary to push out the Quinns and claim what should’ve been ours from the beginning.”

“Why should it be, Da?” My glass clanks on the granite countertop and orange juice swishes over the rim. “The Quinns live by a code. They were committed to the truce you signed with Cormack decades ago.”

“Cormack Quinn is dead, as is the truce. And with him gone, we have our opening to rule all of Dublin.”

“Why does that matter?” I ask. “We have millions of dollars, houses, and a thriving business. You’re a powerful and feared man. Why do we need more? What was so wrong with coexisting with the Quinns? Going after them is going to start an all-out war.”

Da shakes his head. “You disgust me.”

“Then we finally have something in common.”

He’s out of his seat and storming toward the island in the next heartbeat. I grab a knife out of the butcher block and my fingers tighten around the handle with a death grip. As strong as the urge is to back away and shrink in the surge of his anger, I hold my ground.

The surprise in Da’s eyes is only a flash before it’s replaced by fury. “You dare raise a knife against me?”

“To defend my life? Aye, I dare.”

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