His eyes narrow. “I think you’re getting a little too big for your britches, Son.”
I want to punch the smugness off his face, but I need a man who has a little fire in his gut if he’s going to help us beat the Keans, so I let this go.
“My britches are nearly fifty thousand dollars big. That’s the amount we paid to get you out from under Kean.”
“And I gave you my daughter?—”
“I didn’t buy her. You insisted on the marriage.” God, does Hannah think I bought her? “Look, we’ve done all you’ve asked to make you feel solid in this partnership, including paying your debt and taking your daughter off your hands. All we’re asking isthat you meet your end of the bargain.” I lean closer. "The Keans might be striking out, but we both know they’re vulnerable right now."
"Or maybe they're clearing the board before making their real move." He rubs his temple. "I can't risk everything on your vendetta."
“My vendetta? What about how my father was so good to you? Did I mishear that when you told us how much you respected my father? How much more money you had when he was in charge? No, this is your vendetta too for Hampton Kean forcing you to your knees, for taking away your power and your pride.”
“It’s not just me. I’m with you and your brothers, but you know we need to get the other families on board, and well…”
"What are you saying?"
O'Donnell shifts in his chair. "The others are asking questions. If your brother really killed Ronan Kean, why hasn't Hampton acknowledged it? Why aren't the Keans coming after you directly?"
I shake my head. “How have you survived this long not understanding the Keans? If they let it be known an Ifrinn killed their son, in their house, well, they give up all power. They’ll look weak.”
“So why don’t you step into the limelight? Right now, they're not convinced the Ifrinns are truly back."
"Back? We never left. They tried to destroy us, but we survived."
"And did nothing for ten years," he snaps back. "The Keans burned your family alive, and you disappeared. Now you return, claim one of you killed Marshal and the other killed Ronan, but Hampton doesn't even acknowledge it?"
My vision blurs red. "You think we're lying? You were there that night.”
“I believe it. I remember seeing the looks on the Keans’ faces when they learned an Ifrinn had infiltrated them?—”
“The other families were there too,” I point out.
“They didn’t know your brother was an Ifrinn. I knew because I’ve been working with you boys. Kean certainly didn’t announce it.”
“Right. Because it would make him look weak,” I point out again.
"I think the other families need more than just your word. They need to see the Ifrinns stand up to Kean openly before they'll risk joining us."
I laugh bitterly. "So you married your daughter to someone you don't even believe in?"
"I married her to you because I need to know you’re committed.”
This time, my laugh is derisive. “And we need to know you’re committed.”
He meets my eyes. "If you want my men, if you want anyone's men, you need to prove the Ifrinns are truly back. Show them you can face Kean directly, not just plot from the shadows."
The truth in his words pisses me off. We've been careful, methodical in our revenge. Because there were only four of us, we had to work in the shadows. But maybe that caution has cost us.
"Your father ran most of the city," O'Donnell continues, rubbing his temple. "Now? The Ifrinns are four brothers with a grudge. No territory, no real power base."
"We chose to stay hidden, to strike when they least expected it."
"And that worked with Marshall and Ronan." He nods. "But without proof positive it was you, the others have doubts. Hell, many think Ronan killed Marshall."
"So what would you have us do? March up to his front door?"
"Maybe." O'Donnell leans forward. "Your father didn't build his empire through subterfuge. He did it openly, showed strength when others showed fear."
