The Devil I Don't Know (Brooklyn Kings, #1)

by L.K. Shaw

“Why are you following me?” I ask Paddy, who is almost stepping on my heels. “I was told specifically to escort you there.” It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. I’m sure the instructions weren’t that specific. We reach the door to our grandfather’s sanctuary, and I stop in front of it, hesitant now that I’m here. What does he want with me? “Go on,” Paddy nudges my shoulder. I smack at his hand in irritation and bare my teeth at him. Inhaling a deep breath, I reach out, turn the doorknob, and let myself in. Seated behind the behemoth oak desk is my grandfather, Colm Donnelly, patriarch of one of the most powerful families in the Irish mob. He’s a fearsome looking man despite his full head of white hair. His presence fills the room even sitting. “You wished to see me, sir?” He glances up and assesses me with a stony glare. I stand ramrod straight under his critical stare. He blinks and then merely looks through me, dismissing me as unimportant, just like everyone else. A familiar sting that never lessens follows in its wake. “Sit down.” I try not to flinch at the sharp command.