Page 42 of Dirty Legacy

“This morning before I left for the church.”

“Bad timing.”

“I didn’t plan any of this, boss⁠—“

“No, you didn’t, otherwise, it wouldn’t have been such a fucking nightmare. You didn’t think, you didn’t consider, you only acted impulsively and foolishly, and now here you are, knee-deep in a river of shit with no bridge to either side.”

I blow a breath from my nose and look down at the table. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Look at me, Connor.” I meet his eyes, jaw flexing. I haven’t been treated like this in a very long time, but by God, I deserve it and I’ll take it like a man. “I gave you everything. I raised you from nothing, put you in charge of the Maguire clan, and supported every decision you made, even those I thought would not work out. You exceeded every one of my wildest expectations. You have proven yourself smart, strong, capable, and loyal a dozen times over. I had high hopes for you, Connor, and it breaks my heart that I have to do this.”

Wildly, stupidly, I wonder if he really is going to kill me. “She’s carrying my child, Declan⁠—“

“I am Boss Whelan to you now.”

“My baby, Boss Whelan. That means something.”

“It does. Frankly, it’s the only reason you aren’t dead. Killing you would fix this situation. The Gallaghers would be furious, but we’d find a new husband for Sinead and life would go on. Your family would burn, blood would flow, but that’s the cost of business. Instead, you’re still breathing.”

I wish I felt relief, but I don’t. In some ways, dying for this would be easier than living with the shame of what I’ve done. But I keep Angie’s face firmly on my mind, not the terrorized and horrified look she’s had ever since going to the Maguire mansion, but the way she gazed at me when I filled her to the brim that terrible, beautiful evening we ruined each other.

“I will fix this.”

“How?” He holds his hands out toward me as if trying to pull an answer from me. “How could you possibly do that?”

“I’ll handle the Gallaghers.”

“You’re really going to war with them? You think that’s a fight you can win?”

“When they’re broken, they’ll bend the knee to you.”

“That’s a lot of fucking work for an outcome I’d already secured,” he says sharply through his teeth.

“I know. And I’ll bleed for it.”

“You or your men will.”

I curl my hands into fists. Yes, there is going to be blood, and pain, and death, and I will hold it all on my shoulders, because that’s what a man does.

“When it’s over, the Gallaghers will be yours, and I will always be your loyal soldier. I will make this up to you, I swear it.”

“I hope so, Connor, but I will not back you on this. When Padraig Gallagher comes with his soldiers, and his boys Fergus and Lorcan and Cillian come to cut your throat, I will watch from the sidelines. I will not mourn you if they burn your life to ashes.”

“I understand.”

“Good. I hope you do. I hope you’re prepared. I’m going to tell them about the girl in two hours. That’s all I’ll give you for years of service. Two hours and nothing more.”

“That’s all I deserve.”

“You deserve to die, Connor. We’ll see what you get.” Declan lifts his glass, blood red and shining. “Good luck.”

I walk slowly out of the restaurant under the gaze of Declan’s soldiers. None move to speak to me. Deck’s waiting outside and he seems disappointed nothing happened. “You good?” he asks.

“We’re in the woods now. We’re on our own.”

“About what I expected. I figured you’d have a knife in the heart.”

“Upset about it?”