“You are the men my father chose. And that makes me confident, because I know he trusted every single one of you. So I will do the same. All I ask in return is loyalty. You fight for me the same way you fought for my father, and I will protect you with my dying breath. I swear I will.”
I let the words hang in the air for a moment longer. I make sure to look each man dead in the eye. Like I’m swearing an individual promise with each of them.
“That will be all. Dismissed.”
The men disperse at once.
I watch as they go. I may not seem like I pay attention, but that’s part of the strategy. It’s easier to spot snakes in the grass when they’re not aware they’re being observed.
Rory comes towards me, his expression slightly troubled.
“That was a good speech,” he says.
“You’re a shit liar, Rory.”
He smiles. “You’re more like your father than you think.”
“Let me be the first to tell you that’s not the compliment you think it is.”
He chuckles and walks away, leaving my way clear to head over to Kian.
“That was… almost inspired,” Kian says. “Did you plagiarize from someone?”
“Look at you, using big words,” I shoot back. “Been reading the dictionary on the shitter?”
Kian gives me a smile that’s reminiscent of—well, me.
“Why do you look so fucking happy?” I demand.
“What?” he asks innocently. “I can’t be happy to have my brother back?”
I frown. “This is something else. You look… younger.”
“Yeah, sure,” Kian says sarcastically. “I’ve heard that getting your leg shattered has been known to keep you youthful and vibrant.”
Then it clicks into place.
“You like not being the one in charge,” I surmise, zeroing in on the real reason behind his easy smile. “You like the spotlight on me.”
Kian still looks a little too innocent as he shakes his head. “How dare you?”
I stare at him for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. I lean against the wall and shake my head at the irony of it.
Kian sighs, sets his crutches aside, and leans with a wince against the hood of the sheet-covered Lamborghini parked in the garage behind him.
“You know something,” I say, gazing wistfully across the garage, “I was thinking earlier.”
“That’s dangerous,” he teases. “Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”
For once, I don’t take him up on the joke. “It was about Da’s legacy.”
“Ah.”
“It’s always meant so much to him. He has three sons. And it seems none of them want the legacy he built. One disappeared of his own volition. The second was banished. And the third gave up a femur just to avoid being interim don.”
Kian doesn’t bother to deny it. “It wasn’t the only reason I did it,” he says quietly.
“I know.”