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Granite, steel, hardwood, and glass blend together with painstaking craft. Each material flows into the next. Huge windows into sprawling floors into high, arched ceiling.

It’s imposing as fuck to everyone who enters.

To me, though, it’s just home.

I can hear Ma in her own private study down the hall. But I glide past the open door and keep walking until I hit Kian’s room.

I slip inside and catch sight of my little brother on the large carpet in front of his bed. He’s got his model train track all set up and he’s trundling them around, adding noise effects with his mouth.

“Cillian!” he yells joyfully, abandoning the train in his hand and running towards me. He slams into my waist.

I let out a low grunt. “Oof. Good to see you too, kid.”

“Where were you?” he demands. “You promised we’d ride our bikes down the cape together.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Something came up.”

Kian’s face lights up instantly. “Da told me! A money collection,” he croons, his eyes brightening with interest.

The blue of his irises are extremely light and hide little clusters of grey flecks. His shaggy brown hair has the potential to get lighter, but I doubt it will.

He’s got Ma’s beauty and Da’s fight.

He knows much more about O’Sullivan business than I did at his age.

The difference is that he’s interested.

I wasn’t.

Sometimes, I think how arbitrary it is that the oldest son inherits his father’s responsibilities. Why not hand over the reins to the child who’s best suited for it?

It’s not a popular opinion.

“Da tells you too much,” I laugh.

Kian frowns. “No, he doesn’t. And anyway, I’m not a kid. I’m ten years old.”

“That definitely makes you a kid.”

Kian makes an expert fist and punches me in the arm. It actually hurts.

“Jesus,” I growl, massaging my sore arm. “This is what I get for coming in to say hi to you?”

Kian smiles. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he says eagerly.

My thoughts flit to Sean. I really wish I were in that study with him right now. But Da would never allow it.

In his eyes, Sean’s the next don. And a don who needs support in difficult situations is weak.

“It went amazing,” I lie smoothly. “Sean was brilliant.”

“So you got the money?” Kian asks.

“Sure did,” I reply. “Taught that drunk a lesson, too.”


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