Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
It was how we’d maintained the peace for so long.
“Yes,” Nessa confirmed. “But I thought my grandfather was, like, high up.”
“He was. Ennis Murray was the adviser to Ronan O’Shea,” I answered. “Ronan was boss. So that’s Shannon’s dad and Finn and Pat’s grandfather. And since Ennis was dad to both your dad and Grace, Ennis was grandfather to all’a youse. Get it?”
She knitted her brows together in concentration. “I think so. And Ronan wasn’t a good boss? I mean, that’s when we got problems, right?”
“No, everybody loved Ronan,” I said. “He was a great leader. Even the Murrays preferred him. The problems began when Ronan started thinking about retiring. Since he was an O’Shea, it was his job to find a Murray who could take over. And that’s when your dad went too far. He felt it should be him, and he wasn’t quiet about it. He basically started a war within the syndicate, which had never happened before.”
Nessa straightened in her seat, and her eyes widened a bit.
I wasn’t going to share certain details, such as it was her fucking father who’d had Ronan and Ennis assassinated.
“My dad did that?” she asked, shocked.
I inclined my head and finished my stew.
Then I wiped my mouth with my napkin and sat back. “A lot of people ended up in prison back then, so John could take over fairly easily. He had enough support on the outside.”
We’d retaliated, though. We’d bided our time. Finn had planned everything from the moment Ronan had died. But since Finn had been, what, eighteen…? Yeah, eighteen. He’d had to wait. We’d all had to be patient because nobody would’ve followed a kid, and it still had to be a Murray boss before an O’Shea could rise up.
I continued, only because I didn’t want Nessa to return home after the weekend and hate her father. “Then last year when the Italians moved in on our turf, Finn saw his chance to get rid of both the Avellinos and your pop. Finn stripped the syndicate to its foundation, and we’ve been building it back up ever since.”
Nessa nodded slowly and dragged her spoon through her food. “I’ve overheard Liam a few times…” Eavesdropping on her eldest brother. Why was I not surprised? “Forgiveness doesn’t sound like something Finn would just give. Liam still won’t talk to Dad. And nobody has told me why!” She grew frustrated quickly and sat back with a huff. “I’m so sick of the secrecy in our family. And the sexism! I’m smarter than Alec, you know. He’s a jerk. Kinda like you, actually. ’Cause I know you’re glossing over a lot of details.”
I did my best not to show any amusement. “You became a teenager like five minutes ago, Nessa. I’m telling you these things because you know what it’s like to be on the run, and I feel you deserve to know the gist at least. You deserve to know why you were placed with distant family in Ireland last year, why we wouldn’t let you go to regular school. And the truth is, this is our life. Shit happens sometimes because of the work we’ve chosen. I’d love to say none of this will happen again in the future, but I can’t.” I paused to choose my words carefully, because what I said next would hopefully give her faith. “I’ll tell you why Finn forgave your father, though. To unite the syndicate. Because during the years your pop ruled the Sons, the O’Sheas and Murrays turned into enemies—and it makes us all weak and vulnerable. We have enough outside threats to worry about.”
Nessa grew introspective as I spoke, and I loved her for not dismissing anything right away. While she was sure as shit still a kid, growing up on the fringes of our organization had given her a different childhood, one that had matured her in several ways. For better and for worse. She was sharper than most of her peers.
“And one day,” I went on, “it’s Finn’s hope that Alec will take over. He will be the next Murray—and Finn doesn’t want any more bad blood between us. That’s why he spared your dad.”
She flicked me a quick glance. “Spared him, as in…?”
I cocked my head and offered my most patient smile. Because I wasn’t going to spell it out—at the same time as there was no use in denying anything. She’d lived through enough. She’d heard enough.
We had Sons whose wives didn’t even know their husbands were part of the syndicate. In fact, it was our preferred default mode. But when hundreds of Italians flooded the streets and sent our families into hiding for months, it was kind of difficult to act like nothing was wrong.
Nessa sighed and side-eyed her notebook. “I’m ready for my second question.”
Thank fuck. “Shoot.”