Conall by Reana Malori Page A

took him a few minutes to get started, but Conall knew he had something on his mind. Taking a deep breath, Kieran broke the silence. “You know, some people would say we’re damaged.”
    “We are,” Conall said with a self-deprecating smile.
    “Yeah, I would agree,” he said with a smile. “I think I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long—hell, we all have—to finally have it within our grasp seems unreal. Nothing can go wrong, Conall. We have to play the game for as long as it takes to make this happen.” Kieran’s blue eyes were hard with the prospect of revenge. Their mother had eyes that same shade of blue and Conall knew it tore Kieran up each time he looked into the mirror. They had not been able to save her, and as the oldest, Kieran took that burden on himself.
    When Fiona O’Shea died, taken from this world by her own grief and pain, there was only one person to blame. Patrick O’Shea. For that alone, he deserved to die. Add to that, Fionn and Shannon, his half-brothers, were dealt a blow of their own. Their mother had disappeared one day, never to be seen or heard from again. It had been thirty years since both women had been taken away from their sons. No child deserved to grow up without the loving arms of their mother, especially when it was due to the egotistical and psychopathic delusions of a man who thought he was untouchable.
    Oh yes, some may say they were ruthless, heartless, cold-blooded sons of bitches. They were. And all four of them were proud of that fact. When the day came that they were standing over Paddy O’Shea’s dead body, the devil would get his offering of flesh for all the hurt and pain they’d suffered as children.
    The old man may not know it yet, but he was marked for death. The sons he wanted to create and mold into his image had surpassed even his wildest dreams. The four of them had been forged in blood, pain, and tears.
    It was time for Patrick O’Shea, bastard that he was, to reap what he had sown.
     

Chapter Five
     
    “Tatiana, I have a delivery for you at the front desk,” the receptionist’s voice came through the phone. “Do you want me to bring it to you?”
    “Thanks, Dianne. No, I can come and grab it. I need a break anyway.” Getting up from her desk, Tatiana made her way to the front reception area in her company’s front lobby. The deep aroma of flowers hit her at the same moment she saw the look on the receptionist’s face. “What the hell?”
    “Someone has an admirer.” Dianne tittered behind her large smile, the telephone headset resting on her perfectly coiffed hair.
    “No way. For me?” she said in disbelief as she arrived at the desk ledge. A gorgeous bouquet of flowers greeted her and she could do nothing but stare.
    “Oh yes, they’re definitely for you. The delivery man made sure to confirm at least three times that he had the right person and the right office.”
    “I’ve never gotten…I mean; no one has ever…” Her voice thickened as she tried to force the words out. Who in the world would have sent her flowers on a Thursday? Hands shaking, she reached for the card attached to a plastic holder and pulled it free. Quickly opening the small envelope, she hesitated. “Why am I so nervous?” she laughed sheepishly.
    “Do you have a new secret admirer that I don’t know about?” Dianne asked.
    At her words, Tatiana knew exactly who sent the flowers. Conall O’Shea. There had been no call or message from him today, and while she welcomed the time to just gather her wits and think about what the hell she was doing, a part of her had still hoped he would at least call.
    Finally responding to the question that had been asked, she kept it simple. “No. Not a secret admirer, but a very persistent man who likes to make grand gestures.” The soft tone of her voice gave away more than she realized. This truly was the first time she had ever received flowers, of any kind. For Conall, it was probably no big thing, but for