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With my access point found, I tucked it behind a bunch of code that would shadow the security breach and turned my attention to my family.
They were all watching me.
Frowning, I asked, "What?"
"Aidan won’t tell us what’s going on with Savannah’s mom."
"Probably because it’s private?"
Eoghan scoffed, "You don’t know the meaning of the word."
I placed a hand to my chest. "Little brother, you wound me."
"Take more than words to wound you," he retorted with a squint as he sank back a couple fingers of Aidan’s best scotch—a housewarming present to Finn.
Shit had been tense between Eoghan and me since he’d found out about the sniper attack Star and I had subverted.
Snipers around the globe had been targeted by various governments in a game of cat and mouse as they triedand failedto uncover the plot to assassinate the bitch we’d once saluted as our First Lady.
Eoghan, AKA ‘The Whistler,’ had found himself in those crosshairs, and Lodestar via one of her friends had learned about the job. Together, we’d saved his butt and all he was pissed about was that I hadn’t cleared Inessa out of the building first.
But I’d had to make it look authentic.
My ass had been the one on the line, not hers, for fuck’s sake.
She’d been in the kitchen making goddamn smoothies. A fucking freight train could have rolled through their living room and she wouldn’t have noticed. I was pretty sure that shestilldidn’t know what had almost gone down that day Lodestar had picked off the man hunting Eoghan like he was a stag in a forest.
I arched a brow at him, well aware that it fell into a staring contest.
Sometimes, because my mind was always focused on work, they forgot that I was as much Da’s son as they were.
Eoghan grunted when I didn’t back down and finished his glass, shoving it at Finn to pour him another one.
"Hey, fuck off. That’s forty-thousand-dollars a bottle and as rare as a pink unicorn, Eoghan. You wanna get wasted, drink some of the shit that I serve to guests."
Finn’s complaint had me smirking, but all I said was, "You can’t hack me. I won’t tell you everyone’s secrets if they shouldn’t be shared."
"King Solomon has spoken," Aidan retorted as he swirled his own scotch in his glass.
I knew he limited himself now. His tastes had gotten more expensive and more rare, as if that were a method of curbing how much he imbibed.
A different man stood before me than the one who’d come to my penthouse last year, strung out on heroin and prescription meds.
I was fucking proud of this one.
The other had earned my loyalty and respect, but this one was worthy of being my leader.
Seeing him take a tiny sip, I watched his eyes close as he sank it back. "Where’s your head at?"
His eyes drifted open again. "What do you mean?"
"I know you’re plotting something," I told him. "Just don’t know what. Yet."
"Aren’t you the one who said you can’t hack a brain, Con?"
"I know," I groused.
Brennan mused, "So, if we want to keep shit private, we have to think about it?"
