Page 46 of Taming a Ruthless Heart

I just need to find the right moment and the right words.

18

Dave

After a pleasant lunch with Alexia and Rose, I excuse myself and head to the study.As I step inside, I’m reminded of entering a cave when I was younger.The room is wrapped in shadows, softened only by the slivers of daylight that filter through the heavy, dark blue curtains framing the floor-to-ceiling windows.It’s a room of carved wood and quiet power, with each arch and gilded edge whispering of secrets and machinations.The ceiling, painted with subtle flourishes of gold, gleams under the faint light, adding a sense of weight and authority to the space.This is a place built to contain things that should never see the outside world.

The scent of old books and bold cigars clings to the air, mingling with the rich, smoky bourbon I pour into a crystal glass.The amber liquid catches the rays of light like flames.I take a long, slow sip, letting the burn settle into my veins, grounding me as I prepare to dig into Dad’s files.I take a seat behind the massive mahogany desk, sinking into the leather chair that creaks under my weight.

The whiskey, the dim light, the jazz music humming from the hidden speakers—it all creates a cocoon.I never questioned Dad’s methods, never needed to.He ruled the Syndicate with a precision that kept chaos at bay, a discipline that others either respected or feared.He has always been my rock, the kind of man who could hold a family together while the world around us fractured and burned.But even a fierce leader such as Jack Boyle had his limits.There were lines my father would never cross, compromises he wouldn’t make, not even to keep our empire steady.

I lean back, staring at the neat stack of flash drives and hardbound journals spread before me, each a breadcrumb from the life Dad led as head of the Syndicate.These aren’t just remnants; they’re history, decisions, legacies—and cautionary tales.And I’m about to tear into them.It’s not the first time I’ve gone through these documents.Today, I’m looking for specific clues as to what Igor might be planning.

Picking the journal sitting on the top of the pile, I smooth its burgundy cover before undoing the strap of leather that ties it closed.A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I scan my father’s handwriting.He kept everything meticulous.I always admired that about him—his quiet order, his precision.He knew exactly when to act, when to let things simmer, and when to strike.But he protected me, too, from seeing the darkest corners of his empire.Even when he stepped down and I inherited it.It took me a long time to fully realize what he was safeguarding me from.I still see it in his eyes, that steel resolve hiding his vulnerabilities.Dad has always wanted my brothers and me to be strong, but not like him.He wants us to be better.But you don’t stay clean when you’re drenched in blood.Even the best intentions die that way.

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my focus on the journal, and before I can respond, Angus strides in, the glint of steel in his blue eyes tempered by the quiet warmth of an old friend.His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, and his strong frame fills the doorway, a reminder of the countless times he’s stood watch for our family, silently shouldering the risks that come with loyalty to the Boyles.

“Brought what you asked for,” he says, holding up a black case containing hard disks that Nikolai hacked and sent me.

I wave him in.“Good timing.I was just going through Dad’s notes.”

He places the case on the edge of the desk and settles into one of the leather armchairs across from me.It’s a comfort to have Angus here.His father used to be my dad’s right-hand man.He was loyal to the core.Now Angus and I carry on that unbreakable bond forged by our families.Long gone are the days we spent roughhousing as kids.Angus is a ruthless enforcer now, a man I trust with my life.He’s even taken a bullet for me.

“Seems like you’re buried in ghosts.”He points at the books and folders on the table.

A smirk edges onto my lips.“Igor’s forcing me to dig up memories I’d rather leave buried.”

Angus crosses his arms, watching me with the cool intensity he’s honed over the years.“Jack began stepping back three years now, correct?You still miss him at the helm?”

His question carries the weight of history and loyalty.It highlights the silent bond between us, two men who understand the price of leadership.

“It wasn’t the same after Mom passed,” I reply, swirling the whiskey in my glass.“He lost a part of himself, like all his drive went with her.He wasn’t Jack Boyle, the merciless boss, anymore.He was a man grappling with unbearable loss.Dad loves us boys, but Mom was his whole world.After she died, he started passing things on to me.One day, it was overseeing a shipment.Next, managing the men.Before I knew it, I was in his chair.And he… well, he began to fade out.”

Angus watches me, his gaze softening.“Aye, I remember that time.There were nights I’d catch him staring off, like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn’t.”

“A bit haunting, to be honest,” I confess as my mind revisits those painful days.

Angus sets his lips in a thoughtful line.“Funny thing is, I remember when you were just a scrawny fifteen-year-old, all bones and attitude, after that first fight.You had a hell of a shiner, blood still smeared down your jaw.”He chuckles, shaking his head.“Jack just stood there, didn’t he?Not a word until you looked him in the eye.”

I repeat Dad’s words, imitating his groveling tone, “Don’t ever throw the first punch, David.But if you have to fight, end it fast.And remember, your strength is for the family.”

I smile at the memory.

“Spot on!”Angus praises.

I let my eyes drift back to the journal in my hands.“Dad wasn’t teaching me to fight; he was teaching me loyalty.He wanted me to understand what strength really meant.I think about it now, with all this betrayal surfacing, and I wonder if he saw something I didn’t.”

Angus shifts in his chair, his expression turning serious.“Jack wanted to protect you.He taught us both that loyalty is everything in this world, and he expected it from everyone.”A flicker of something dark crosses his face as he looks at me.“I wonder if your old man ever saw what some of these men around us are really made of.”

My eyes narrow as I study him, catching the hint of mistrust in his voice.“You have someone in mind?”

He hesitates before replying, “I’d never question the loyalty of our men.But there’s been talk about someone working both sides.A snake slithering through our ranks, close enough to undermine everything you’re working to hold together.”

Anger flares up, igniting a fire under my skin.“And yet, every man I look at swears loyalty.I’ve known them all my life.Same as you, Angus.They have more to gain from keeping things steady than from betraying us.But if there’s one traitor…”

“We’ll find him,” Angus interrupts, his voice firm.“You have my word on that.I’ve got my eyes on a couple of men who’ve been acting weird.”He holds my gaze, but there’s a reluctance that surprises me.

“Say what you’re really thinking,” I order.

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