Page 416 of Lodestar

“Your future,” I told him calmly.

“Why isn’t Victoria in here too?”

“Because Victoria isn’t an O’Donnelly. Victoria isn’t you.”

“She’s family,” was his stout retort.

“She is, but she has her own path.”

“Will Camille and Inessa talk to her about it?”

Brennan stirred long enough to say, “They will when she’s ready.”

“What makes you think I’m ready?”

Declan cleared his throat. “Do you remember last year when I gave you a choice?”

His mouth worked. “The gun or the pen?”

Declan ignored us all to say, “This is like that. You can choose whichever path you want, but you have to choose.”

“Now? That’s not fair. I’ve got two years left at school!”

“Circumstances dictate that we make a move immediately, Shay,” Conor inserted, his expression reassuring as he looked at his nephew. “You should know by now that our world isn’t predictable.”

Shay huffed but queried, “What are my options?”

“You join Acuig Corp, work your way up, and eventually become an executive. A little like Finn,” Aidan stated.

Eoghan, still staring into his glass, drawled, “Or you become a Five Pointer, and don’t pretend like you don’t know what the Five Points do, kiddo.”

Though Shay flushed, he didn’t argue.

“Or, you go your own way,” Declan continued. “You go into politics and you let us set you up to win.”

Nervously, Shay flicked a glance between his uncles. “To win what?”

“The biggest election of them all,” I added.

His brow furrowed, but before he could answer, Brennan said, “You still want to go into politics, Shay?”

“You know I do, Uncle Bren. Was just arguing this week with you about that bullshit law in Georgia and how it’s a goddamn disgrace that more isn’t being done to stop it from being passed.”

I didn’t need to askwhichlaw. It had been plastered all over the papers, taking up column inches Savannah and I were trying to dominate with blackmail fodder on dirty politicians.

“Think you can do better?” Brennan asked quietly.

Slowly, his eyes widened. “You mean it?”

“What are we offering, Seamus?” Aidan inquired.

“To help me become president.”

It sounded ridiculous coming out of a kid’s mouth because that was what Shay was. Whether they liked it or not, they were doing as their da had done—forcing a kid to make a man’s decision.

Declan nodded. “Do you want that, Shay? We can make it happen.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” he argued. “It’s supposed to be about democratic choices?—”

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