Page 95 of Vicious Betrayal

Reyes turns back to us, her jaw working. For a moment I think she's going to tell Brennan to handle it, that she's too close to closing this deal with Oksana to walk away now. But then her eyes flick between me and my wife, and she nods.

"Keep them separated," she orders the marshals standing by the door. "Murphy goes back to holding. Mrs. Murphy stays here."

"Wait—" Oksana starts, but Reyes is already moving. One of the marshals steps forward, gripping my arm. I don't resist. There's no point. I let him pull me to my feet, and I look back at Oksana one last time.

"It'll be alright, a chumann," I say, even though I don't know if that's true. "Just do what they ask. Please."

She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks, and then the marshal is pulling me out into the corridor.

—

They don't take me back to the holding cell. Instead, the marshal escorts me down a different hallway, past rows of identical beige doors with frosted glass windows, until we stop in front of one marked Interview Room 3. He unlocks it, pushes the door open, and shoves me inside. The room is small and windowless, lit by the same buzzing fluorescent lights that seem to be standard issue in every federal building. The furnishings are the same—the table and chairs and mirror. And sitting in one of those chairs, his hands folded calmly on the table in front of him, is Rian.

I freeze in the doorway.

Rian looks up, and for a moment neither of us says a word. He's wearing a dark henley and jeans, hair messy. His face is calm, almost serene, but there's something resigned and final in his eyes that makes my stomach drop. "Sit down, Cormac," he says quietly.

The marshal pushes me toward the chair across from Rian, and I sink into it, the chains around my wrists clinking against the edge of the table. The door closes behind me with a heavy thunk, and then it's just the two of us. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I demand, my voice rough.

Rian leans back in his chair, studying me with that same unreadable expression. "I could ask you the same thing. You look like hell, brother."

"Rian—"

"How's Oksana?" he interrupts, his tone still calm. "Is she alright? The baby?"

I stare at him, my throat tightening. "She's... she's fine. Physically. But they've got her in an interrogation room right now, trying to force her to sign an immunity agreement. They're threatening to take the baby if she doesn't testify against me and Declan."

Rian's jaw tightens, the first crack in his composure. "Bastards."

"She didn't want to do it. I told you that. She was blackmailed. And they're still pressuring her. I can't walk free while she goes to prison and they take our baby. They'll never let me get custody of him."

"Did the feds get any of the documents?"

"No." I shake my head. "She photographed files from my laptop in Greece, but I caught her before she could hand them over. The FBI doesn't have anything except what she's heard. But if she signs the agreement, she'll have to give them access to her phone, where the documents are."

"So they've got nothing right now, without that agreement," Rian says, more to himself than to me.

"They've got us," I correct bitterly. "They're planning to use me to break Oksana, which is working because I've asked her to take the deal. And then they'll use me to force a confession out of Declan or one of the other men. Reyes thinks if she squeezes hard enough, someone will break."

Rian's mouth curves into a faint, humorless smile. "She doesn't know Declan very well, does she?"

"No." I lean forward, the chains pulling tight across my waist. "Rian, what are you doing here? Why did you walk into a federal building with a lawyer?"

He doesn't answer right away. He just looks at me, steady and calm, and I feel a cold, creeping dread start to spread through my chest. "You called me," Rian says finally. "You told me everything. About Oksana, about the coercion, about how much you love her. About the baby."

"Yeah," I say warily. "So?"

"So I've been thinking about it ever since." He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You've got a wife, Cormac. A child on the way. A future. You've spent twenty years in this life, and you finally found something worth more than the organization… something worth protecting."

"Rian—"

"Let me finish. I don't have that. I don't have a wife. I don't have kids. I don't have anyone waiting for me except the men I work with, and they'll be fine without me. But you've got everything to lose."

The dread in my chest solidifies. "What did you do?"

Rian holds my gaze. "I made a deal."

For a second, I think I can't possibly be hearing him right. "What kind of deal?" I manage.