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I took the seat opposite the desk and waited. Finnan paced across the rug behind me, and I slid down in my seat. Waiting.
“It’s not her,” he finally bit out.
I turned to face him. “Herwho?” I asked.
“Sloane!” he roared. “She’s not the motherfucking rat.”
My brows rose. “I didn’t know you thought she was. We’ve been chasing after this rat for months.”
He glared at me as he made another revolution of the rug. “I thought her da had sent her.” He rounded the desk and sat down. “I need to find out who it is, Grayson, and I need you to find outright… fucking… now.”
“Yes, boss. Anything else?”
“Yeah. The Conclave is still going ahead tonight.”
My shoulders stiffened. “Are you sure that’s wise? We were attacked last night. Someone set off two car bombs in the hopes of taking us all out, and you want to go to the Conclave and risk your life again?”
“I won’t fucking hide from these motherfuckers!”
“Finnan—”
“And I want Sloane to come with me.”
I leaped from my seat, irrational fear sweeping through me. “Are you fucking serious?”
The look he gave me was irritated, bordering on murderous. “She’s my fiancée. Soon, she’ll be my wife. I want the rest of the clan bosses to see her. I want them to see that I have Aidan Kavanaugh’s daughter.”
I loved Finnan, but his ego would be his fucking downfall. “Finnan, it’s too dangerous.”
“Leaving her behind is too dangerous,” he replied in a snarl. “Those bombs were meant to take both us and Sloane out. She’s got just as big of a target on her back as we do now.”
My hands curled into fists. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep her safe, but taking her to the Conclave? Finnan had lost his ever-loving mind.
“Boss,” I tried one last time.
“My decision is final, Kent. And since you’re so fucking concerned for her safety, you’ll continue to guard her with your life. Am I understood?”
I ground my molars together. “Understood.” I turned to leave, but Finnan stopped me.
“Take her out to buy a new dress for tonight. I want her to look like a million Euros.”
I nodded. “Sir.” Leaving the office, I turned back toward the kitchen but stopped when I saw Sloane sticking her head out of her room.
“Did he accuse you of being the rat, too?” she asked.
“No, but he said he thought you were.”
“He’s paranoid. My father is also paranoid.”
“Aye. I think it comes with the territory of ruling a clan.” I ran a hand through my hair, then down the back of my neck. “We have the Conclave tonight. He wants you to come.”
She frowned. “What’s a Conclave?”
“It’s the meeting between all the clans in Ireland. It’s the one night a year when we all come together to share a meal, discuss business, and no violence can occur. If anyone breaks this cardinal rule, that clan is embargoed.”
“Meaning?”
“The other clans can seize any of the offending clan’s shipments as their own, without fear of retribution.” I shrugged. “It’s a long-standing tradition among the clan bosses, and it has served us well for the last decade.”
