Page 4 of The Apprentice
“That isn’t?—”
One corner of Sloan’s mouth curled.
“I don’t trust him.” At this point, I was repeating the same rhetoric over and over again, but I wasn’t sure if I believed myself anymore.
“Has Conall given you a reason to doubt his loyalty?” Sloan leaned back in his chair and laid his hands in his lap. “We’re not here to talk about my pet. We’re talking about you. Jealousy is another emotion you should never show. If I was to walk out of this office and ask any of the men how you feel about Conall, do you know what they would tell me?”
My stomach churned and I gritted my teeth. If I didn’t start getting my act together, Sloan would take my apprenticeship away from me for good. He’d never let me step up as boss if he thought Conall’s life was in danger. “That I was envious of him.”
“Yes. That isn’t how a Killough leads. Do youwantto be the boss of this company when it’s time?”
“I do.” I sat up straighter. “It’s all I ever dreamed about.”
“Then act like a Killough,” he said. “Your father knew what was expected of us, and you should by now, too.”
Shame churned in my stomach, and I glanced away, unable to look at him any longer. Did Sloan know bringing up Dad would cause this reaction? Of course he knew. Why else would he do it? I hadn’t known Dad for long, but I had vague memories of him. I could still smell his favorite cologne, a cinnamon scent that hung in the air long after he’d left a room.
I pressed my lips together and gathered the courage to look back at Sloan. “He was a good man.”
Sloan’s mouth upturned into a rare smile. “He was the best. I loved your father.”
I nodded.
It wasn’t the first time we’d talked about Dad, but usually it wasn’t me who initiated the conversation. It hurt speaking about a man I never really knew. Being four when Dad died, I didn’t have many memories of him. My younger siblings had none, but after Dad’s death, Mom chose to take my brothers away from the life. Not me, though. I’d stayed to live out Dad’s legacy. More than that, I was going to be the boss one day.
Sloan stood, and I blinked at him when he straightened his suit. “You’re not Eoin and you never will be.”
I cringed.Ouch.
“But I don’t expect you to be. He was a great Company man, but he wasn’t passionate like you are about this business.” He laid a hand on my shoulder, his hold a comforting weight. “You’re meant for great things, but you’re young and you have a lot to learn. Your father worked for the Company because he was a family man who wanted the best for his wife and children, but you’re more than that. You’re a leader.” He leaned down to press his forehead to mine. We didn’t touch like this much anymore, but when I was a kid, Sloan would do this with me when I was upset about something. “Stop fighting your emotions. I’m not asking you to rip them out by the roots, but don’t let them ruleyou. It’ll get you or someone else you care about killed. It’s what got your father killed.”
I swallowed. Sloan had never told me the full story about how Dad died, only that he’d been shot in the chest by an enemy. He’d died in Sloan’s arms, begging Sloan to take care of his family, and Sloan had done that. He’d provided money to my mom and brothers, and he’d protected me while teaching me how to be a boss one day.
I never regretted becoming his apprentice. Not once. Not even when Sloan chastised or punished me for my wrongdoings. That was what fathers did, right? And Sloan was a better parent than Mom had ever been.
“Yes.” I bowed my head in respect. “Forgive me.”
Sloan gave me one more pat on the shoulder before he turned and exited the room, leaving me to wallow in a mixture of emotions. I’d disappointed him—again—and that hurt the most. Everything I’d done since I’d seen Sloan at the funeral was to make him happy, yet nothing seemed to work.
I followed him out of the office and into the hallway, walking past expensive artwork I had a feeling was obtained illegally by Oisín Kelly, the Company’s best thief. Not that Sloan ever asked Oisín where he got the paintings. Deniability and all that. Not to mention, no one would ever know they were therealartwork when Oisín was known for replacing them in art galleries with near perfect replicas.
Sloan stopped in the entranceway, in front of the stairs, and I figured out why when I came to a halt behind him.
Lor O’Guinn—a guest who’d been staying at the mansion for a while now, though I couldn’t figure out why Sloan cared about him—and Conall walked out of the dining room, deep in conversation. They didn’t see me and Sloan until they reached us.
Conall grinned when his attention landed on Sloan, his entire face lighting up. The red collar on his neck was bright against the black T-shirt clinging to his muscles and the faded jeans that molded to his ass. His sneakers were nearly the exact same shade of red as the leather around his throat.
Sloan opened his arms and dragged Conall into them, laying a hard kiss on his lips. Conall’s back arched as he got in closer and he hummed into the connection of their mouths.
Lor smiled but shifted his feet awkwardly at the display of affection. I didn’t know how old he was, but he had to be my age or younger, what with his baby face and those innocent brown eyes. Then again, he was also a strange man, with dyed-black hair bisected by a white stripe. I couldn’t decide if he was trying to be punk or a skunk.
I hadn’t spent much time around the new guy in the house and didn’t want to. From what Sloan had told me, Lor was a friend of Dr. Vail Mifflin, who in turn was the lover of four Company men.
Four.
I couldn’t even get the one man I was interested in to want more than sex. No, Daire preferred to see me as nothing more than a hole. A body. Daire’s excuses were always the same.
You’re Sloan’s nephew.
