Page 16 of Reckless Seduction
Seamus, the fucker, howls with laughter at my father’s dig. I shoot him a glare, my hand coming out to smack the back of his head.
Little shithead.
“The little siren got in a lucky shot,” I growl angrily. “Better than Seamus. She nailed him right in the bollocks. He’ll be lucky if anything down there still works.”
That shuts my twin up.
My father, however, lights up at my statement. He is a cheerful one. That is something I’ve always loved about him. He never takes life too seriously. Most fathers in his position are known for being stern and controlling. They weigh their heirs down with unrealistic expectations. Bars that can never be reached.
Liam Kavanaugh is not that kind of father.
When we were growing up, he never set the bar farther than we could reach. When we touch it, he moves it just a bit farther. His goals for us are never unattainable. He doesn’t expect us to be perfect, and he never encourages us to follow directly in his footsteps.
“You’ll find your own footsteps,” he told us when we first learned the truth about the empire we would one day inherit. “Follow your own paths. Lean on each other, and everything will work itself out.”
His words have yet to fail us.
“We need to come up with a plan.” I let out a long sigh. “One that won’t have us going to war against the senator.”
“Kill her.”
The three of us turn to find my mother approaching us from behind the bar. She put her cell phone down long enough to listen in on our conversation. Eavesdropping is the only time she manages to lift her eyes away from it.
“We don’t kill the innocent, Marianne,” Father growls. His patience with her has been thinning since her obvious rebuke of Ava. My half-sister’s role in our family has become a point of contention between the two of them. “You know this.”
Mother snorts derisively. “She is the daughter of one of the dirtiest senators in the country. How innocent do you really think she is?” she asks, eyes narrowed at my father. The tension between them coils tighter, the air around them thickening. You’d think she would be happy to have her best friend’s daughter in her life.
But this is my mother.
Selfish.
Shallow.
Out for her own regard.
Ava is a threat to her standing in the family. I learned early in life that my mother does nothing that doesn’t benefit her. She is a viper in the tall grass. A chameleon. And someone who is more than willing to stab you in the back with one of her Louboutins if it means she’ll climb the hierarchy ladder.
I have a bet with Seamus that Father only married her because she got pregnant with us. Another calculated move on her part and a “moment of weakness” from what my father drunkenly mumbled one night. It doesn’t sting when he says it. I know he wouldn’t trade my siblings or me for the world.
“That may be,” Father continues calmly. I can see his green eyes darkening dangerously. “But it still stands. We don’t kill women and children. Especially if they don’t cause any harm to us.”
“Any harm?” My mother sneers, her hands coming down on the tabletop roughly as she leans toward my father, her face pinched in an ugly scowl. “She witnessed your sons murder someone. She’s a reporter. One who could bring this entire family to ruin with just pen and paper.”
Mother isn’t wrong. If given the opportunity, Bailey could deliver a large blow to us if she reported on what she saw. She’ll be the only witness, but her status as an investigative journalistgives her credibility. She can easily sink our organization to its knees if she has both Magnus Knight and her father backing her.
If given the opportunity.
“We’re not killing her, Mother.” Seamus frowns at her. “Kiernan and I will take care of Bailey our way. It’s our mess. We should have cleared the alley before taking care of Jimmy.”
“Yes,” she hisses, turning her cold eyes on him. “You should have. The two of you are set to be the next leaders of this family. You can’t afford mistakes. By not killing her, you are showing how weak you are. How soft you are. I’m disappointed in the two of you. I thought I raised you better. Neither of you ever thinks. You both just?—”
“Enough,” I roar at her, losing my patience. I watch Seamus pale as she berates him. We might both be hardened men, but that doesn’t mean our mother belittling us doesn’t have any effect. Seamus is more sensitive when it comes to our mother. He always wanted her attention when we were little. He did just about anything to garner the one thing she never gave us. He simply wanted to talk with her. To have her smile at him. Appreciate him.
She never did. Not unless there was something in it for her.
We might be twins, but I saw our mother’s duplicitous nature long before my brother. She isn’t worthy of the title. There are those out there who love their mothers, even when they are cruel and cold. They might even shed a tear if they die.
I am not one of those people.
