Page 42 of Stolen Hearts

And that’s when I found mynextfamily, the one I’ve been with for the last ten years. The one where I’ve basically fallen into this role of being big brother to Neve and Eilish, and a strange sort of blend of brother and nephew to Cillian.

Maybe it’s not the most functional family in the world either. But it’s one I’d kill for. One I’d die for.

One I would doanythingfor.

So, yeah. Swearing to put them first is a vow I can make in my fucking sleep.

And that’s it. That’s the whole thing when it comes to changing the head of the entire Kildare empire. Two Council witnesses, a ten-second oath, and lastly aslåinteand a drink of whiskey, because of course that’s part of it.

When it’s done, after I’ve shaken Brian and Eamon’s hands, and after Neve, Eilish, and Una have all given me big hugs and told me how proud they are of me, Cillian turns to me and holds out his hand. I shake my head in a mixture of amazement and disbelief as I grip it firmly.

“The king is dead,” he growls quietly with a small smirk on his lips. “Long live the king.”

* * *

A few days later,I find myself doing something else I never once expected myself to be doing: shopping for luxury apartments.

I grew up in a shithole in Alphabet City that may as well have been a crackhouse. In the army, I lived in barracks and training camps, and once I was a special ops Ranger, “home” was basically any jungle, forest, or desert where I laid my head at night. I spent literally years without anything more than tent canvas between me and the night sky.

And then for almost the last decade, I’ve had my room at the Kildare brownstone on the Upper East Side, which isby farthe nicest digs I’ve ever had. Declan, Neve and Eilish’s dad, wasn’t ever around much. But when he was, he had the master suite. The girls had their expansive rooms on the top floor.

My room was much more modest: just a quiet, regular-sized bedroom overlooking the backyard gardens, with a small balcony and a normal ensuite bathroom.

To me, the brownstone has been a mansion ever since I took the job as Neve and Eilish’s bodyguard. A palace. A veritable penthouse. But now, I’m looking atactualpenthouses. Currently, I’m being shown a fuckingmonstrouslyhuge, four-thousand square foot open-concept thing along Central Park West. A modern all-glass monstrosity that isn’t remotely my style. I mean there’s a goddamnwaterfallin the living room, for fuck’s sakes. What the actual hell do I need a waterfall for?

“Well?”

I scowl at Brad, the real estate guy showing us this place, before I turn to groan at Una, who’s taken it upon herself to go apartment shopping with me. She smirks at my glum face.

“You know why we’re doing this.”

I do. As the new head of the Kildare empire, it transpires there are expectations of me. Expectations like apparently I wear suits now, instead of my usual go-to uniform of black jeans and a white t-shirt. I mean, Iwearsuits. Just not often. And it’s not like I need to sleep in the damn things. But Cillian’s impressed upon me the importance of dressing for the role when I’m, say, going to a meeting with the heads of our vassal families, or any sort of meeting really.

I get it. I honestly do. I just don’t…like it.

Anyway, yeah, that’s why we’re looking at these ridiculously expensive places today. Because as the new king, it’s expected of me to be living—with my new bride—in a place befitting a king.

Not in the guest room of the family brownstone.

“The hell do I need a waterfall for?”

Brad clears his throat. “Actually, there are studies showing that incorporating nature into the home is balancing for the mind and grounding for the chakras.”

Una bites back a smirk. “See, Castle? It’s for the good of your chakras!”

I glare at her.

“Well, I like it.”

Hades comes stomping down the stairs from the second floor.

“It’s gottwobedrooms.”

He levels a cold, hard glare at me.

“Twobedrooms.”

“I think he heard you the first time, Hades,” Una snickers.

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