Page 50 of Legacy Of Ashes
I watchSaoirse command the room and my cock throbs against my zipper.
Three weeks since Tiernan's stroke, and she's become something that makes me ache. Her dark hair is pulled back, showing the curve of her neck I want to bite. Those emerald eyes scan each face with authority that hits me like a fist to the gut.
Christ, I'm in trouble.
"Gentlemen," she says, and her voice makes me think of her moaning my name while I'm buried inside her. "We're discussing the new structure moving forward."
Twelve lieutenants sit around the table. I know each face, each weakness. But all I can focus on is how Saoirse's blouse pulls across her breasts when she leans forward. How her lips part when she speaks. How badly I want to bend her over this table and fuck her in front of every man here.
My hand stays near my gun, but for different reasons now. Any bastard who disrespects her dies. Not because it's my job—because she's mine. Has been since she walked back into this house.
"You want us reporting to a council?" Paddy Sullivan asks.
"You'll report to me," Saoirse replies. "Same as always."
The authority in her voice makes my dick harder. I shift against the wall, grateful my jacket hides how much I want her. She has no idea what watching her take control does to me.
Danny O'Brien leans back in his chair. I've hated this prick for years—too ambitious, too willing to cross lines. His eyes hold disrespect as he looks at her.
"With respect, Miss Kavanagh," he says, making her title sound like an insult. "This family built its reputation on strong leadership."
"What's your point, Danny?" Saoirse asks.
I love how she doesn't flinch. How she meets his challenge head-on. My woman is fearless.
O'Brien stands, placing his hands on the table. "My point is you're asking us to follow a little girl who's been playing at Oxford while we bled for this family."
I want to kill him. The urge to put him down wars with something stronger—the need to see how she handles this. To watch her destroy him.
Saoirse's lips curve in a smile that makes my pulse race. "Interesting. Tell me, Danny, what bleeding have you done lately?"
Fuck me, she's perfect.
"I've given fifteen years to this organization," O'Brien blusters. "Kept the unions in line?—"
"While stealing from the pension fund." Saoirse opens a folder, slides papers across the table. "Three hundred thousand over two years."
The room goes silent. O'Brien stares at the documents while sweat beads on his forehead. Saoirse set a trap and he walked right into it.
My cock aches watching her work. This is what I've wanted—to see her embrace the power she was born for. To watch her become the queen she's meant to be.
"You can't prove that," O'Brien says, but his voice shakes.
"Bank records. Wire transfers. Your signature." Saoirse's voice turns cold. "Should I continue?"
She came prepared. Turned his attack into his downfall. I want to drag her from this room and fuck her until she screams.
O'Brien straightens, desperation making him stupid. "You think you can threaten me? I know things about this family that would interest the feds."
That crosses every line. My gun appears in my hand. But Saoirse raises one finger, and I stop.
Not because it's an order. Because I want to see her finish this.
"Danny, you've served this family for fifteen years," she says. "But service doesn't earn you the right to steal from us or threaten us."
Every word makes me harder. This is my woman—ruthless, intelligent, born to rule.
"Here's what happens," Saoirse continues. "You're leaving Boston tonight. There's a cottage in County Cork where you'll spend your remaining years. You'll receive a pension—the same amount you stole."
