Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I need to end this conflict, and I need to do it fast. Once all the petitioners are dealt with, I send Niall to check on Valentina then to summon all the uncles. He comes back and confirms that Val’s perfectly fine and currently helping Aunt Mags make pies. A dreadful job, almost a torture, but Niall thinks she’s fine.
The uncles file in. Eddie, Joseph, and Brian take positions of prominence, but other uncles fill in behind them. It’s not everyone, but it’s everyone that really matters. Niall shuts the door and begins the meeting.
I’ve been dreading this. They know about my meeting with Julien and about our alliance, but I’ve kept the arranged marriage detail a secret. When I tell them the full terms, I can tell they’re about as happy as I am.
“And whose daughter are you sacrificing to the French?” Uncle Eddie asks with a deep frown. “Luckily, mine’s already married.”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I look around the room. Most of the men here are older, which means their children are older as well, but a few do have girls in their early twenties that might make decent matches. “We’re going to discuss it and come up with a reasonable match among ourselves. This isn’t going to be like with the Italians. You will have a say in the process.”
There’s more grumbling, but that helps. “I’m not even sure we should get those Frenchmen involved at all,” Uncle Joseph says, leaning back with his arms crossed over his stomach. “They don’t have the same relationship that we do with Cormac and them. They won’t hesitate to hurt our boys.”
“They’re traitors,” Uncle Brian says sharply. “Are we going soft on them now?”
“They’re our family,” Uncle Joseph shoots back. “You want to start killing them all? How many nephews do you have with Cormac right now?”
“They’re still traitors.” Uncle Brian’s jaw flexes. “Cormac stole that product because he wants to sit in Ronan’s chair there, and we’d be weak if we let him get anywhere near it.”
“Nobody’s saying that’s an option.” Uncle Joseph shakes his head and glares around the room. “We have to find a way to end this without bloodshed. These are our boys we’re talking about, damn you all. What happens if we start murdering them? How can we ever put this mess back together?”
There are some nods of agreement and murmurs. I speak up before someone else can seize the momentum. “We’re past a clean fight, Uncle Joseph.” I feel their eyes on me, judging and weighing. Half of them are wondering if I have the ability to get us through this crisis without destroying the Group entirely. “There will be blood.”
“The French all but guarantee that.” Uncle Joseph seems unfazed. “I don’t trust that Julien.”
“You will when he’s married to an Irish girl,” I say and speak louder before he can cut in. “There will be blood, but the real trick will be how to minimize it. I’m not going to step down and give them what they want, but I also won’t slaughter them all if I can help it.”
“Nobody wants either of those options,” Uncle Joseph admits.
“There has to be another way,” Uncle Brian says. He looks around the room, but nobody seems keen on speaking up.
“The real problem here is Cormac,” I say softly. I sit up straight, demanding their respect and attention. “The others might believe him, but none of them put this rebellion together. He’s the clever one. He’s the dangerous one. At this point, his life is forfeit. I need you all to understand that. I know some of you are still hoping it doesn’t have to come to all that, but in Cormac’s case, it already has.”
Dead silence in the room. It’s not a good discussion, talking about murdering one of our own, but I need them to understand here and now before it goes further. Slowly, I see nods across the room.
“It’s a damn shame,” Uncle Joseph says. But he doesn’t try to argue.
We move on to other business. The uncles start talking strategy. I’m tired and ready for this to be over when there’s a knock at the door. Niall opens it, and one of the loyal cousins comes inside, a young kid named Patrick. He’s eighteen at most and seems very out of breath.
“Ronan,” he says, panting and sweating. “I just ran here from — John Bowman’s car lot, over on—”
“We know where it is, boy,” Uncle Joseph snaps. “What the hell are you interrupting a meeting for?”
“Cormac hit it up.” Patrick’s eyes are wild with fear. “He did a real number on some of those cars. Bowman wants a word.”
I’m up and moving before the uncles can start arguing about what to do. Uncle Brian and Uncle Eddie follow. Niall’s right on my heels. Several more cousins are enlisted, all armed, and we take a small caravan of SUVs over to John Bowman’s place.