Wait. Did he justapologize?
“Sorry?” I laugh without humor. “That’s it? You hijacked my life because—what? Because it was easy money?”
“Because I didn’t have a choice,” he says firmly. “You mentioned your investments, and I saw a way out of a situation I was in. I knew your name, your family—it was an easy solution. And I was desperate.” His gaze darkens, and for the first time, I see cracks in his composure. “You don’t know what it’s like to have someone like my father breathing down your neck. He doesn’t punish mistakes—he carves them into you so you never forget them.”
Jesus Christ.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” I bite out, my chest tight.
“I know,” Theo says, his tone softer. “But, I’m not asking for forgiveness. I made the call. I saw an answer to my problem and I took it. I’d likely do it again under the same circumstances. You got caught in the crossfire, and I’m genuinely sorry you got hurt as a result.”
“Crossfire?” I spit, stepping closer, lowering my voice just for him. “Do you mean the trafficking? That’s what my money was tied to, wasn’t it?” My voice shakes with rage. “Women, Theo. Young girls. Human beings. You let me fund that.”
His face shutters, and for a heartbeat, there’s something vacant and hollow in his eyes, like a door slamming shut. He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t defend it.
His silence says enough.
Disgust burns through me, hot and acidic. “You really are just like him,” I say, my voice trembling. “Your father.”
Theo’s jaw tightens, but his voice is flat when he finally speaks. “No one here is clean, Taryn. Not me. Not you. Not your new husband.”
His mention of Liam twists something in my gut, but I hold his gaze. “Stay out of my life, Theo,” I say, my voice sharper than I’ve ever heard it. The words are building before I can stop them. “And if you touch anything with my name on it again”—I hesitate, but something dark and certain pushes me forward—“you’ll answer to Liam. To the whole fucking clan. And trust me, you don’t want that.”
The threat hangs there between us, thick and heavy. I can feel it vibrating in my bones. Did I really just say that? Did I use Liam—and the mob I swore I hated—as my weapon?
Theo’s eyebrows lift slightly, but there’s no humor in his expression. Only understanding.
“Looks like you’re learning,” he says quietly, and I hate that part of me likes how it sounds.
A flicker of unease twists in my chest. Is this what claiming power feels like? Trading my rational voice for sharp edges and threats? Because, for the first time, I don’t sound like the stellar student with dreams of California—I sound like I belong in this world. I can’t decide how I feel about that.
LIAM
When I walk into the place I’ve shared with Danny and Ryan for the past couple of years, I find my brother standing in front of an open kitchen cabinet.
“I need you to do something for me.” I don’t beat around the bush or waste time with pleasantries. I should have talked to him yesterday, but my beautiful wife was too great of a distraction. Fortunately, Ryan isn’t big on social graces anyway.
“Okay,” he agrees easily, going back toward the refrigerator for his overnight oats. He makes them in a container every night and eats them every morning. Precisely a half cup each of plain Greek yogurt, oats solidified with almond milk, fresh sliced strawberries, all topped with exactly two tablespoons of dark honey. Some might find Ryan’s devotion to his various routines strange. I love the predictability. It’s a breath of fresh air in a world where nothing else is as it appears on the surface.
“I need you to trace a bank account,” I say with a sigh, before sitting at the kitchen table. I explain the situation to my brother, who makes his way to the table, oats and orange juice in hand.
He nods as he sits beside me. “Okay.” He spoons in a mouthful of the fruit, yogurt, and oatmeal mixture.
“I don’t imagine this will be easy, Ry, but I need it done this morning.”
He groans. “I have a paper to finish.”
“How about I work on your paper while you work on getting access to the account?”
He gives me the side eye. Considers. “Give me what you have on it. Let me see how long this should take and then we can negotiate.” My brother’s hacking skills are phenomenal, so I’m hopeful that it won’t take too long.
I managed to steal the file that Darragh had been carrying, which listed the investors in the Greek shell company along with their account information. I’m going to have to tell him that I found it on a side table near where my father had been sipping his whiskey. Darragh won’t believe that story, but it doesn’t matter. I got what I needed. I hope.
“I’m sure the Greeks have everything locked down pretty well.”
Ryan waves a hand. Sips his orange juice. “They had to have created some holes when they intentionally leaked the information on Taryn. I just have to replicate them. With any luck, they forgot to close a loop. I’ll figure it out.” He inhales another huge spoonful of his breakfast.
I would say that was arrogant, but my brother doesn’t know how to be cocky. Every family at St. A’s has some pretty high-end security systems surrounding their business. Yet, Ryan is unperturbed by the thought of getting past the Greeks’ firewalls. His interest in technology is going to make him the finest hacker that our clan has ever seen. That is, if my father ever decides to give him the time of day. He has managed to successfully avoid my brother—and his “special brain” as my mother calls it—for most of our lives.
