Page 55 of Vicious Hearts

Not just because I make himlotsof money. But also because it’s not at all lost on me that I scare the fuck out of him.

“The Foleys aren’t going anywhere, either.”

Well, no shit. The Foley family is currently run by the young Tiernan Foley, after backstabbing and infighting led to the premature death of his father. The fact that I didn’t burn the entire Foley operation to the ground after that has pretty much cemented Tiernan’s loyalty for life.

“Who else?”

Dom clears his throat. “The McCormicks, the Kearneys, and the O’Riordans are all solid. The problem, the spark leading the call for a goddamn revolution, is Liam McCarthy.”

Shit.

Castle, echoing my thoughts, swears under his breath. “Yeah, I don’t imagine any of this news is sitting very well with him.”

That’s putting itobscenelylightly.

Seamus O’Conor’s allegiance was always to whomever paid him. And years ago, before the McCarthys were officially under the Kildare banner and thus had our protection, a rival of theirs hired O’Conor.

Liam was seventeen and away at college when Seamus murdered his father, Michael.

His mother and little brother were crucifiedbled outby that fucking maniac.

As a result, Liam became the head of the family before he was even old enough to buy cigarettes. And now he’s just gotten proof that our organization made a fucking rat’s deal with the goddamn FBI to turn O’Conor in, rather than skin him alive for his atrocities?

The shit isn’t about to hit the fan. It’s about to arm itself with a thermonuclear device, cover its ears, and push the goddamn red button.

Dominic exhales quietly in the darkness. “Look, Cillian, whatever you need done, just say the word. I mean, all love to Liam McCarthy. But this is potentially full-on mutiny or insurrection if he doesn’t slow the fuck down and shut his mouth. If it’s gonna be war…” he nods grimly. “Well, you know whose side we’re on.”

I do. The problem is, I also understand that even with his support, there’s no winner if it comes to war within the Kildare empire. The bloodshed from something like that would accomplish less than nothing and could quite possibly set in motion the slow, spiraling death of our entire organization.

Much as the monster in me salivates at the idea of blood spilling in the streets…it’s not an option this time.

“There won’t be a war, Dom.”

He shakes his head. “Well, I don’t see how we deal with this, then.”

Castle nods. “He’s not wrong, Cill. I’m also not sure how you’d heal two warring factions like this.”

No shit. Neither do I.

I exhale slowly, turning to let my gaze sweep over the brownstone. My eyes stab through the wall of windows of the conservatory upstairs, where everyone is still finishing dinner. Where Hades and Calliope are cracking jokes with Eilish. Where Kratos is laughing heartily and doing some ridiculous little dance while Neve and Ares cheer him on.

Where Neve has just slipped into Ares’ lap, turning to look deeply into his eyes with all the love and power and unbreakable connection that, I’ve been told, soulmates have for each other.

My brow furrows as I watch them gaze at each other. As Ares gently tucks a lock of her red hair back from her face before leaning in to kiss her softly and yet possessively. As she winds her fingers into his dark hair, smiling through the kiss.

They make it look so easy and so natural to be so carefree and happy like this.

And then suddenly, as I stand there in the shadows, watching two former bitter enemies who were once ready to spill each other’s blood in the streets look at each other with the purest and fiercest forever-love…

It suddenly clicks.

“Marriage.”

The word falls from my lips in the dark silence, startling the two men I’m standing with. Castle arches a concerned “what the fuck are you suggesting” brow. Dom frowns.

“Cillian—”

“Marriage,” I growl again. “A marriage to bury the sins of the past would put an end to the schism in the ranks.”

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