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“Everybody’s a fucking armchair journalist,” Dec said. “Except when you need them to be.”
Damian nodded. “They came after you hard, but that was to be expected.”
Nick couldn’t disagree. In the balance of power between MIS and Manifest, an organization comprised of the most powerful men in the world and run by the head of the Federal Reserve, there was no contest.
Unfortunately, there was also no contest between MIS and Frederick Walker. When it came to the press, an old-money family like the Walkers would always have more power than an underground operation like MIS.
“We’ve been at an impasse since the attack at the hotel and on the house,” Nick said. “We’re still digging, but we need something big, something so big that defying the Walkers would be worth it for anyone sounding the alarm.”
“And you thought we might have it?” Damian asked.
“Or that you might be able to point us in the right direction.” Nick said.
“There will be a lot of heat now that Walker’s been sworn in,” Damian said.
“That’s part of the problem,” Nick said. “Thenext time we aim, we can’t miss, and the more time that passes, the harder it’s going to get.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a personal angle here? With the woman?”
Nick kept his expression blank. “Would it matter if there was?”
Damian thought about it. “Maybe.”
“How so?” Nick asked.
He’d done his own homework on Damian Cavallo, but he couldn’t admit that he knew Damian’s wife had been the sister of Primo Fiore, a short-lived figure on the organized crime scene in New York during the months when it had been without leadership.
Back then, all the Syndicate territories had been like the Wild West, with every low-level criminal fancying himself a kingpin. Primo Fiore had actually gained a foothold before Damian stepped in.
He also happened to be crazy.
Nick wondered what had gone down behind the scenes to bring Damian together with Aria Fiore, especially after Primo was killed.
“Personal entanglements complicate business,” Damian said.
“Speaking from experience?” Declan said.
The urge to tell Declan to shut it warred withNick’s surprise. Declan had obviously done research on Damian too, which wasn’t exactly his M.O.
He must have been even more bored than Nick thought.
Damian turned his dark eyes on Declan. Nick might have felt sorry for his brother if he didn’t know him so well. Declan's big mouth had always gone hand in hand with a total lack of concern for consequences. Maybe it was because he was the youngest of the Murphy brothers and he’d just gotten used to having people cleaning up his messes, but he’d never had much of an edit button.
“Yes,” Damian said smoothly. “I’m speaking from experience.” He returned his gaze to Nick. “So?”
Nick nodded. “I am… involved with Alexa Nash. And yes, it does complicate things.”
“I take it you don’t care?” Damian asked.
Nick shrugged, which he figured was better than telling the truth, which was fuck no, he didn’t care. Not as long as Alexa was by his side.
The waitress came by with the coffee pot, but Damian covered his cup with his hand. Nick did the same, resisting the urge to stop Declan when he slid his cup closer to her for a refill. The last thing Dec needed was more caffeine.
“I can ask the people in our lab to do a littledigging.” Damian hesitated. “But it would be irresponsible not to caution you.”
Nick looked at him. “About?”
“I sense a certain… desperation.” Nick opened his mouth to protest, but Damian held up a hand to stop him. “Hear me out."
