Grayson lifted a brow.
The bearded man put his hands up. “Don’t look at me. Someone from within the family decided it was out with the old guards and time to usher in a new era.”
“Any ideas who that ambitious entrepreneur might be?”
“No. And there are some people back home who would like to know. All their usual haunts are ghost towns now.”
Grayson tapped something on his phone and turned it. “These are the new locations of interest.”
Since it was hard to see the map on the tiny screen, Glitch did his techy magic—which was likely just AirDrop or something—to transfer the image onto the smartboard so everyone could see it.
I had no clue what Judge, Glitch, Nox, and Rhys saw on the normal map, but there was something. Judge and Glitch had a whispered conversation before the former moved to Nox to have their own clandestine gab sesh. Rhys didn’t seem concerned—or maybe he hadn’t noticed—their secretiveness. His focus was on the board.
He rocked back suddenly. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“I’ve been digging into Butler and his history to find a way to get him off my back. Including researching the other businesses they’ve gone after.” He pointed at a few of the marked buildings. “These were previous targets of his super PAC. Independent Results and Abundance. IRA. Neither of those things can be a damn coincidence.”
That explains why they never use the acronym.
I thought about Sean Butler and all his smooth interviews. His earnest and believable pleas that he loved the city and wanted to make it a better place. His milquetoast looks on thefor-salesigns around the city. I’d assumed he was gearing up for an eventual run for mayor or some other political office.
I never expected the kind of power he was actually after.
“The IRA is defunct,” Grayson said, referring to the Irish connection and not the retirement savings. He looked at Nox. “Correct?”
Nox lifted his chin. “Aye. This is them being cute while they play right in our fookin’ faces.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
IN IT TO WIN IT, BABY
LUNA
“Please. Please, stop. I can’t.I can’t do this anymore.Please.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my nonsensical rambling was hard to make out. “I can’t.”
My torture master was unmoved. “I know you have one more, hellcat.”
“I don’t. The tap has run dry. I’m dehydrated. I’ve got nothing.”
Rhys switched my vibrator to his other hand and held up the first one so I could see the blend of my arousal and release that coated his palm to contradict my claim of dryness. His lips held that same shine since he’d been working my clit with his mouth while he fucked me with the toy.
Making me come over and over and over again. I was paying my tab like he’d threatened. Promised?
Both.
I changed tactics. “But I need you to fuck me.”
He hesitated before moving the vibrator in and out. “Is that why you’re such a swollen, needy mess?”
His description didn’t help the messiness or the restless pleasure he was easily building despite the fact I’d come multiple times.
But that torment was his objective. I’d been trying to make him break by stoking his own desire. He knew my angle and was using it against me.
“Want to be filled with me?” he asked.
I nodded.
