Page 54 of Illicit Heir

Ugh! Gross!

My stomach flips faster.

Paddy grabs another towel and wipes the floor until the shine is gone. He rises. "How's that, boss?

Caleb glances at it. "It's good. From now on, if anyone spills anything on the floor, you're to scrub it up. Are we clear?"

Paddy's face hardens. Caleb waits until he answers, "Aye, boss."

Caleb slaps him on the back. "Good. Now go buy me a round."

Paddy clenches his jaw and steps in front of the bar. "Round for Caleb."

Emily sets a shot glass on the counter and pours whiskey into it. Then she fills a pint with Guinness. She chirps, "Should I put it on your tab, or would ya like to pay now?"

"Tab," he grumbles and picks the glasses up. He hands them to Caleb.

Caleb doesn't say thank you and tosses the whiskey back, then chases it with the Guinness.

Paddy returns to his table.

Caleb jumps on a chair and shouts, "Everyone listen up."

Deafening silence follows. Respect fills the patrons' faces, which is the opposite of when I demanded their attention.

It's another thing that disgusts me and only ignites more anger.

Caleb announces, "All of ya will follow the new rules and respect the pub. If ya can't, you will be banned for life. Understand?"

Shock ripples through the crowd of patrons.

Caleb threatens, "I asked if ya all understand me, and I expect an answer."

The room fills with affirmations, the opposite of the grief they gave me.

Caleb warns, "Ya won't just be banned though. You'll have to deal with me and my wrath. So either behave or you're not allowed to be here. And there will be other consequences if ya get banned."

Tension builds as he stares each of them down.

I should be full of gratitude, but it's impossible. I don't understand what's happening.

Before I can think about how to get out of it, Caleb slinks his arm around my shoulder and leans into my ear, muttering, "I think it's time we talked, don't you?"

Time to deal with it, I tell myself, wishing my skin wasn't crawling. I allow him to lead me into the kitchen. As soon as I step inside, I tell the cook, Bradan, "Go take a smoke break."

He glances at Caleb, nods, says, "Boss," and then grabs his pack of cigarettes and exits the building.

When the door closes, I glare at Caleb, accusing, "What do ya want?"

"Since when do ya make rules without my approval?"

I remain quiet, unsure how to answer him, even though I've thought about this moment more times than I can count over the last few weeks.

He adds, "Ya got lucky that I understand why ya did what ya did. Plus, I already planned on making the new rules. I don't like seeing the place destroyed either."

Unable to stop myself, I scoff. "Then why were you the one who was destroying it the other night?"

"Destroying it? I didn't destroy it," he claims.

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