Page 70 of Allegiant

“His name’s Larry,” I say, before pausing. I know they’ll recognize it, just like I recognized him when I met him. “Larry Windsor.”

The name ripples over the table as it registers with each of my brothers. There’s a long silence, followed by an explosion of noise. My brothers are all yelling over one another, while Wyatt looks confused. Neo, however, has a grim face that suggests he knows exactly why this is important news.

“A Windsor?”

“Is he part of the current generation?”

“Do they know he’s here?”

“Pull up everything.”

“What the fuck is he doing in St. Dismas?”

Wyatt puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles sharply. He glares at us all until we fall silent. “Can you please explain who this guy is and why you’re all freaking out?”

Wylder and Cade exchange a loaded look before my eldest brother clears his throat. “The Windsors are basically the East Coast equivalent of the Buckinghams.”

“Wait.” Wyatt frowns. “As in, they’re a rich, powerful family? Or another division of The Firm?”

“The Firm,” Matthias confirms quietly. “They’re another Firm.”

Wyatt blows out a breath. “Fuck. I didn’t realize there were more.”

“There aren’t many,” Dalton says. “Just us, the Windsor family on the East Coast, and the Holyroods in England.”

“Each family operates in a different way,” I say gruffly, “but the principles are generally the same. We stay out of each other’s shit and territory.”

“Which raises the question as to what Larry Windsor is doing living in an apartment next to Rowan,” Wylder says grimly. “Neo, can you⁠—”

“Already on it,” he says, fingers flying over his keyboard. “Larry Windsor, age sixty-five, second son to Jonathan Windsor. Uncle to the brothers who, based on our information, are currently running their Firm in New York.”

“So, we can likely assume he’s retired,” Wylder says slowly, “but obviously we need to⁠—”

He falls silent as the door swings open. Dotty, Wylder’s eccentric housekeeper, strolls in like she owns the place. Which she doesn’t, but she does run it. At least, she terrifies us into behaving.

“Uh, we’re in a meeting.” Wylder sighs as Dotty leans over him with her ever-present spray bottle. “You can’t interrupt like this.”

I smirk as she ignores him completely and scrubs at an invisible mark on the table. She even hums under her breath, making Wylder’s eyebrow twitch.

“Dotty’s fine,” Neo says, winking at her. I swear I see her wink back. “She wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Would you, love?”

She sniffs imperiously, her permed curls bobbing in indignation. “Of course not. I’ve kept my mouth shut so far, haven’t I? Haven’t told a single person where all the bodies are buried.”

Unfortunately, that’s not a euphemism. I can almost see Wylder plotting to make us dig up some graves and relocate a few corpses because of this statement.

Fucking wonderful.

Not how I wanted to spend my weekend.

“Anyway, like I was saying,” Neo continues, “from what I can tell, Larry Windsor has been estranged from his family for the last few years.”

Bang. Dotty’s bottle hits the table. Her hand flies to her throat as she shakes her head repeatedly. “Did you…did you…”

We’re all on our feet in an instant, various weapons being pulled as we search for the danger. Only Neo has the common sense to approach Dotty herself.

“What’s wrong?” he demands. “Do you know him?”

She nods slowly. “Yes.”