Wow, who the hell is this guy and what did he do with Stefan? Did he really mean all that or was he playing the role of a caring father because of our deal? This would be the most fucked up thing he’d ever done to me if it was all an act.
I forced a smile as I pulled away. “By the way, I’ve decided to accept your offer.”
Stefan held a fixed expression as he digested my words, then nodded. “I have a meeting with your uncles in my study at eight. That’ll give you a few hours to get ready, unless you need a few days to recoup?” he asked as he brushed a finger over my bruised cheek.
“Nope, I’ll be there. What’s the meeting about?”
“Yesterday’s incident,” he answered. “News of what’s happened has spread through the family and they want a clear understanding. Rumors have already twisted the story.”
“I don’t understand.” I really didn’t. Who was spreading rumors?
“I guess I should give you a quick rundown of how things work. Let’s go down to the chamber. It’ll be easier to understand if I can show you.”
I followed him down to the first floor toward the center of the house. The chamber was windowless and had steel reinforced soundproof walls. When the house had first been built, the room had been a ballroom used for formal dances and lavish parties. Over time, as balls had become a thing of the past and our family’s criminal empire had grown, the room had been converted to what it was today. Due to its length, there were heavy wooden doors on each end of the room leading out into the hallway. The east door was the one we used. He opened it, flipped on the lights, and gestured for me to go in.
Walking in, my eyes were immediately drawn to the massive espresso colored table in the center. The table looked like it had been cut from a giant tree, burned to give it its color, and varnished to give it a sleek feel. It had been in my family for generations. It amazed me that an old piece of furniture could hold such importance. Eight matching wooden chairs surrounded it, but the table was long enough to fit more. Three chairs sat on the right side of the table and three on the left, with one chair on each end.
The only lights in the room were hanging over the table. Stefan put his hands on the back of his chair at the head of the table before moving behind the chair to his right. He patted the top of the chair and said, “Samuel.” Then moved to the next chair to the right. “Conor.” He put his hand on the last chair on the right. “Your cousin Dylan.” Stefan moved past the chair at the other head of the table and began touching the chairs on the left side, starting on the opposite end and working his way back to his chair. “Louie, Rourke, and Jameson.” Jamie’s chair sat to the left of his and directly across from Samuel’s.
I walked over to the chair at the other end of the table, the other head, the one he'd skipped. “No one sits here?” I knew this chair. It was where my grandfather had sat before he'd passed away and it was where I'd sat when I'd told Stefan I'd been raped seven years ago—the only time I’d ever sat at his special table.
“That used to be my chair when I was your age.”
“I thought this was Grandfather’s chair?”
“After I took over, he sat there as an advisory role, but typically the Prionsa would sit there.”
My brows shot up as I eyed the chair. Prionsa was Gaelic for prince.
“The Ri doesn’t have an heir,” I stated. Ri meant king.
Stefan nodded, nonchalant. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he didn’t have a son to follow in his footsteps. “Since I haven’t picked a successor, whenever we have a guest attending the meeting, they sit there.”
“Where do you expect me to be during these meetings? Do I stand behind you?”
“Where do you want to be?” The question was a loaded one. A test maybe? Knowing that didn’t immediately upset me because I couldn’t see any risk in picking a chair.
I chewed on my lip. I knew where I wanted to sit, but I was worried I’d be overstepping, especially if I was just supposed to be shadowing him. Thinking back to what he'd said about who sat where, an idea formed in my head. “As of right now, you haven’t decided what role I’ll have in this family. Can I request that I temporarily take the title of guest until my role is decided?” I asked and pulled out the Prionsa’s chair before sitting in it.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Normally, our guests are someone of importance.”
“I’m the Banphrionsa and the only child of Stefan Quinn, the boss of the New England Irish mob. Are you saying I’m not important?” I challenged with an arched brow.
He didn’t argue. With a proud glint in his eye, he pulled out his chair and also took a seat. “The reason I brought you in here was to go over everyone’s role at this table and why it’s imperative they are always informed when something goes down.” He pointed to Samuel’s chair. “Samuel oversees drugs. Be it obtaining them, making them, or distributing them. Dylan works directly under Samuel. His main focus is getting the product out there and making sure it’s being sold. They have men that help them man that pillar of the empire.”
I quietly listened, digesting the information he was giving me. It was one thing to know your family was a bunch of criminals, but hearing it explained straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were, was still a little eye opening. It hadn't felt real until now.
“It’s sort of set up the same way with your Uncle Conor and Rourke, except they deal in guns. Conor works with our contacts in Ireland to get the guns. Rourke makes us a lot of money by selling them to other crime families and gangs across the States. They also have men who work under them who help move their product and man their pillar. Louie is our top enforcer. He helps Jamie with a lot of tasks, but he’s in charge of all our security. He oversees recruitment, placement, and passing along orders.”
“What about Jamie?”
“Jameson is my enforcer. He’s also my second pair of eyes and hands. He makes sure everything runs smoothly and if it doesn’t, he fixes it. If we have a rat, he finds them and brings them to me. If I need information, he gets it. When I’m needed in more than one place, he steps in and we divide and conquer.”
“How does the chain of command work?”
He seemed pleased by my question. “If I’m ever indisposed or otherwise occupied, Jameson runs things. If I die, Samuel.”
“Samuel?!” I was going to be sick. No way could that man be in charge.
Stefan nodded. “Don’t worry. I have a failsafe in place for you in case anything happens to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“All I’ll say is you’ll be taken care of and out of Samuel’s reach. He may be my brother, but I’d never trust him with you.”
“Why haven’t you named Jamie as your successor? You raised him.”
Stefan sighed. The topic seemed to frustrate him. “He doesn’t want it.”
There was no way Samuel could be in charge. He’d undoubtedly destroy this family by ruling it like a tyrant. Not to mention, he’d either marry me off or beat me until I learned to be as submissive as he expected a woman to be, which would still probably end with me being married off.