CARA
After two days of dead quiet, I think I’m in the clear. I’d been avoiding leaving the house so far, trying to keep on the down-low just in case I really had caught the enemy’s attention by going to The Salamander. But I couldn’t avoid Mondays altogether, especially not when I had a business marketing test.
Sadie picks me up, as usual, asking why I’ve been ignoring them for two days straight. Luckily, the test gives me the perfect excuse. My professor is known for being a hard-ass, and her tests were seriously the worst. I really didn’t lie when I told her I had to study the whole weekend. She drops me off at the business building, promising to pick me up after our lectures before driving off. Clinging to my coffee, I head inside.
The funny thing is that I never thought I would end up in business school, majoring in marketing and international business. When I was younger, I wanted to be a lawyer or a detective…until I realized just how terrible it would be if a daughter of the Irish mafia went to law school. Business school was the next best thing, plus it would allow me to work for my father full-time once I graduated.
It’s surprisingly a lot of work—which I actually like. And it keeps me busy. The tests are mentally stimulating, and the conversations on international shipping laws are interesting enough. It wasn’t long before I realized I was right where I needed to be. Not only have I helped Sadie with her nonprofits, but I’ve been helping my father manage a few of our breweries since sophomore year.
Just before I reach the front steps, my cell goes off. I open it, scanning the name before answering. “Hey, dad. I’m just about to head into class.”
“When you’re finished, I need you to come back to the house right away.” From the tone of his voice, I know it’s serious.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, tensing.
He must have realized how it sounded. “Everything is fine. Just need to run something by you.” His voice changes, sounding brighter. More carefree. But I’m not fooled.
“Okay,” I say slowly, unsure. “I can get Sadie to drop me off after.”
“See you soon, lass.” He hangs up before I can reply.
Frowning at the screen, I turn it off. A thousand different scenarios run through my head as I walk into class. Maybe he’d found out that I’d gone to The Salamander. Or perhaps it had to do with something else. There are about a million and one reasons why he would have sounded worried.
I can no longer focus, even when the professor passes out the tests. I’m sitting there, knee jiggling beneath the lecture hall’s folding desks, thinking of everything my father might say to me. I know I’m probably overthinking it, imagining the worse. It could be something minor. Maybe I did the taxes wrong for one of the breweries. Or perhaps he needs me to fix the books again because his accountant screwed up. That wouldn’t be a first.
I'm a bundle of nerves by the time I’ve finally completed the test. I’m not even sure I answered any of those questions correctly despite all my studying, but right now, I can’t worry about it. Taking out my phone, I text Sadie. Her class ends five minutes before mine, which usually means she’s waiting outside for me. She answers immediately, telling me she’s parked in the usual spot.
I head that way and slip into the passenger seat, closing the door behind me.
“How did the test go?” she asks. The car reverses, heading out of the parking lot.
“Pretty sure I failed it,” I reply. “My dad called me right before I went in. He sounded worried about something, and it was all I could think about.” I groaned. “And it’s probably nothing, which means I just bombed a test for no good reason.”
Sadie grimaces. “Maybe you can tell the teacher you got bad news right before, and they’ll let you make it up?”
“Not this teacher. I’m pretty sure she hates students.” I sigh, setting my bag at my feet. “I just need to get home and find out what he wants.”
"So…you’re not coming with us to Kimmy’s art opening this evening?” Sadie guessed.
I closed my eyes, guilt washing through me. “Oh shit. I totally forgot.” Opening them again, I turn to Sadie. She’s blatantly keeping her eyes on the road, but I can see she’s disappointed. “Let me see what my father needs, and then I might come. How’s that?”
Sadie sighs. “You should at least tell Kimmy instead of making me do it. This is your problem, not mine.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I will. I’ll text her now.”
Sadie just shrugs in response, pulling up to my house. We lived outside the downtown area, in a gated community where the grass is always a bit too green and very well kept. Mansions rise up on either side of the street, with pillars and wrap-around porches, and floor-to-ceiling windows that gleam beneath the midday sun. I hop out, waving goodbye before entering the code for the front gate.
“Good morning, Ms. Ryan,” Brent calls out. He gives me a slight nod from the guard’s box by the gate. His partner, Adam, says nothing. As usual.
I start up the wrap-around drive, heading for the front door. It’s opened before I can even get up to the porch by our butler, awaiting my arrival. I hand him my bag and coffee mug, knowing he’ll take the latter to the kitchen to be cleaned for me. And then I head upstairs.
My father is waiting for me in his home office; usually a place I’m never allowed in. But today, apparently, I am. Callahan Ryan sits at his desk, on his laptop as usual. He’s not an imposing man and perhaps a tad shorter than some might think a mafia boss should be. But even still, he holds a presence you just can’t ignore. His dark hair has already begun balding at the center, with streaks of gray woven through the short, dark curls at the sides. Glasses perch at the end of his nose, and a few freckles spattered across his cheeks. According to him, I got most of my looks from my mother, but there are still a few similarities.
My hair is nearly as dark as his, only shot with auburn rather than white. And, rather than curling slightly, it’s dead straight. Our eyes are the only thing we really have in common—so dark that the pupil nearly blends into the iris surrounding it. My mother used to call them witch eyes, but in a good way.
There are two others in his office when I walk in. They both turn at the same time, watching me as I close the door. I recognize them only because they’d been in all the news articles last year, and their engagement had rocked the underground world.
Sienna Rosania.