Page 28 of Stolen Rival
“Have they given you any further indication how long?” The clock is ticking, hence my urgent bride situation. If Dylan dies before I’ve put a ring on Sorcha’s fingerandtaken her to meet him, the entire business will pass to Andrew. Dylan and his wife lost their two sons some years ago in a turf war, which saw Dylan’s territory more than double. His only brother died last year from a heart attack, which means me and my brothers are the only blood family he has left, and I intend to make sure I inherit what’s ours.
“Oh, you know doctors. Could be a month, could be six. Who knows?” A groan comes down the line, and he’s breathing heavily. I look at Liam, then Darragh.
“Time is running out,” I mouth, receiving dual nods inagreement.
“So,” he continues. “When are you bringing your bride to meet me?”
“Soon.” I roll my shoulders, stretching the tight muscles. “About that, I have both good news and bad news.”
“Oh. And what might that be?” There’s a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“The O’Sullivan family are dead. All of them. Including Niamh.”
There’s a momentary pause and more heavy breathing. “I see.”
He sounds surprised which means the news hadn’t traveled across the pond as I thought it may have.
“The McCarthys wiped them all out, and in a fucking church, too. They have no fucking shame.”
“They never did,” Dylan says. “Always went their own way. Never abided by the code we all live by.”
“No.”
“And the good news? Because you know the rules of accession, Patrick.”
“Aye, sir. That I do.”
“Well?”
“Let’s just say the McCarthys have joined the O’Sullivans in the afterlife. Except one.” I decide to keep Cathal’s existence to myself. It’s always good to hold back a card or two.
“You left one alive?”
“Yeah, although he’s having regrets,” Liam murmurs, grinning.
I widen my eyes in a silentshut the fuck up.“The youngest daughter. Sorcha. My fiancée.”
Dylan chuckles, then a bout of coughing ensues. Man sounds as though he’s right at death’s door. I have to break this woman, and fast.
“And how does the girl feel about marrying a man who wiped out her entire family?”
“She’s… coming around.”
“Giving you a hard time, is she?” he snickers.
“She’s got spunk. A redhead. Says it all.”
“Indeed. So, tell me, when is the wedding?”
“Soon.” Once I’ve made sure she won’t scream bloody murder the second we’re out in public. “Shortly after we’re married, I’ll bring her to see you. I’m sure you’ll approve. She’s a beauty, that’s for sure, and primed to produce a long line of Mahoney heirs to continue the legacy started by our ancestors decades ago.”
“I look forward to it.” Another round of coughing delays our conversation for a solid thirty seconds. He sounds as though he’s hacking up a lung.
“I’ll let you go, Dylan. Get some rest. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I cut the call, locking my gaze onto Liam and Darragh. Liam grimaces. “Tick tock, brother.”
“Aye.” I pick up my phone and call my assistant. “Call the priest and tell him to make himself available for a week on Saturday.” That gives me ten days to bring Sorcha to heel. Will that be enough time? Can Dylan make it that far? I fucking hate feeling like I’m backed into a wall, but what other choice do I have?
