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Another breath whispered from my lips as I stared at him. Just him. Only him.
A piercing laugh broke into the daze around me, and I blinked, jolted back to the moment, aware that we weren’t sitting in our dining room but were in a restaurant.
This was why I hated eating in public now.
"Savannah?"
I swallowed. "We have Feds in our pockets already—"
Something snapped to life in his eyes.
It didn’t take much to figure it out—we.
I’d said ‘we.’
I wasn’t the only one who liked personal pronouns.
"Yes, but not from the ground up," was his rasped reply. "Caroline Dunbar hasn't burned her bridges, but I heard she was passed over for a promotion. That means she's on the way out."
"How did you hear that?"
He dug his fork into some steak he’d pre-cut—he’d planned eating and tormenting me at the same time. Fucker. "How do you think?"
"If you have someone in there already, then why do you want another inside man in the Feds?"
"Because he's focused on switching attention from the Points and onto other people."
"Who is he?"
His lips twitched. "The director."
A gasp escaped me and it had nothing to do with the sex toy intent on driving me mad.
"When—" I gaped at him. "Wait, no. How? No. What?!"
He laughed. "Eat your lunch."
"That's impressive." I meant it too. The Director of the FBI was one of the longest serving in the bureau’s history.
"Not really." He shrugged. "This will be a much more complex task."
He wasn’t wrong. Especially if the director had been on the Five Points’ payroll since the start of his career.
"Do you know anyone at Interpol?"
"I know of people," he said with a nod. "But I'd set Conor onto finding the appropriate candidates."
"Plural?"
He gave me another nod. Somehow, he managed to imbue his desire into that simple gesture.
"You really want this, don't you?"
My whisper had him gracing me with his focus. "I do."
"Why?"
"Because Da would never have tackled the Sparrows this way, and taking them down can be my legacy.
