Ronan shakes his head. “Not yet. We don’t swing blind.”
I exhale slowly as I pocket the phone. “He wants us looking at Fiona. He wants us distracted.”
Ronan meets my eyes. “Then don’t be.”
Kieran curses. “We’re already behind.”
Ronan looks at us in turn. “So, we need to move faster. Lorcan doesn’t brag like this unless the damage is already done.”
The only problem is we don’t know where.
Ronan starts issuing more orders, and my brothers shift into motion around me.
Screens light up with maps, and Brennan starts making calls.
The machine is running now, and we will be able to get ahead of this.
It should make me feel better to be taking action, but it doesn’t because Ronan is right. This doesn’t feel like something is coming. It feels like something has already happened.
I need some space alone to think. “I’ll be upstairs.”
My brothers are too consumed by their own tasks to stop me.
The bunker door groans open, and I walk back into the house where life is continuing as normal.
I catch the sound of the twins crying in the living room and the low hum of chatter.
I sneak up the stairs and lock myself away in the office. I immediately drop into the chair and pull up security feeds,financial reports, shipping logs, anything Lorcan could have touched.
If there’s a crack, I’ll find it.
After a few hours, I have three different screens in front of me, all with maps, accounts and CCTV footage, and yet I see none of it.
I’m supposed to be tracking Lorcan’s network, trying to figure out where he’s positioned his men and guessing what his next move is, but instead, my brain keeps circling back to that damn text.
You’ve played a vital role in helping me bring Cormac and his brothers down.
The four of us are still alive and breathing, but for how much longer I can’t be sure.
Lorcan must have a plan in place, one that he’s confident enough in that he’s willing to preemptively reward Fiona. The only question is, what the hell is it?
My phone buzzes with an unknown number, which isn’t unusual given all of the contacts I’ve reached out to in the past couple of hours.
“This is Cormac.”
“I hear you’ve taken my grandson on a holiday.”
I swallow a curse.
It was only a matter of time before Adrian Smirnov wormed his way back into my life. If anything, I’m surprised he’s stayed away for this long.
“You hear a lot of things.”
“I would like to see him.”
There it is, a demand dressed as a request, one that I have no intention of indulging.
“Now isn’t the time.”
