Page 47 of Sins of the Father

Cillian picks it up. "Answer it. Speaker."

I obey, hands trembling.

"Ms. Nolan," Collins' voice fills the room. "I hope you're reconsidering our conversation."

Cillian's eyes turn cold as winter.

"I have nothing to say to you," I reply.

"Pity. The Donovan crew is very persuasive. They'll be visiting soon."

The line goes dead.

Cillian grabs my shoulders. "Pack everything. We're leaving. Now."

"Where?"

"Safe house. Family protection." His grip tightens. "You're under Kavanagh care now."

I look around my temporary home. Evidence of my real life, my mission, my father's death. Everything that brought me to this moment.

"What happens after?" I ask.

"After, we find Collins." Cillian's voice turns deadly soft. "And he pays for what he took from both of us."

CHAPTER 20

CILLIAN

Ifind Orla at her apartment in Dorchester. Three hours since security walked her from Kavanagh offices. My fury pulses fresh with each heartbeat.

Her lock yields to my pick in seconds. Dad made sure I mastered this skill regardless of my Harvard degree.

She sits at a small table, whiskey tumbler in hand. Papers cover the surface—crime scene photos, bloodstained accounting documents in evidence bags, investigation notes. She keeps her eyes on her work when I enter.

"How did you find me?" she asks, drinking.

The room lacks personality—plain bed, desk, table. No photos. No mementos. This place serves as headquarters, not home. Nothing connects to the woman who shared my bed.

"Phone tracker. Simple surveillance." I shut the door. "Expected anything less?"

Her eyes meet mine without shock. Gone is Orla Kelly, my assistant who moaned beneath me in New York. Here sits Orla Nolan, a woman who invaded my world with cold calculation.

"What do you want, Cillian?"

"Truth. Everything."

She points to the empty chair. I stay on my feet.

"Thomas Nolan was your father." I keep my voice flat. "Our company accountant who died seven years ago. You fabricated your way into my business, my life."

"Yes." No reaction crosses her face.

"Doyle called me. Told me about the wire you planned to wear."

She laughs without humor. "Yet you came without backup. Curious decision."

I move closer, placing my palms on the table, leaning toward her. "I want to hear it from you. Every detail. Now."

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