My stomach drops. “How long?”
“Since Malachy died.” His jaw works. “Five hundred thousand euros. Every month. Like clockwork.”
“Jaysus.” The numbers make my head spin. “That’s?—”
“Millions. Aye.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Been draining us dry, bit by bit. I’ve had to make moves I never wanted to make, get into bed with people I shouldn’t have, just to keep the cash flowing.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why? Who’s demanding it?”
“That’s the fuckin’ problem, Erin. I don’t bloodyknow.” He drops onto the sofa. I can’t help it—I crawl into his lap, facing him. “The instructions come through burner phones. Different numbers every time. Drop-off locations change. I’ve tried tracing the money—it gets laundered through so many accounts it’s impossible to track. Malachy wouldn’t tell me who, and I know it’s because he suspected that I’d refuse or get my brothers involved and cause a fuckin’ war.”
I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together. “So he just wanted you to keep paying a ridiculous sum of money to a stranger? You, one of the most powerful and feared men this side of Ireland? That’sgobshite.”
He holds my chin, tips my face toward his, and kisses me. “That’s my girl,” he says softly.
“Cavin, there has to besomething. Some clue about who?—”
“I know. And if I don’t pay it, my family pays. Bronwyn’s kidnapping was a warning.”
“My god,” I mutter. “That’s terrible.”
His grip on my hand tightens almost painfully. “I can’t… Erin, I can’t let anything happen to them. Christ. I don’t want someone innocent hurt.”
The anguish in his voice breaks something open in me. This dangerous, violent, complicated man would do anything for his family.
“I still don’t get why Malachy didn’t tell you who it was?” I ask. “Hehadto know.”
Cavin’s expression darkens. “That’s what’s been eating at me. He knew, Erin. I know he did. Right before he died, he told me about the tribute—said I had to pay it, no questions asked. Said I couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t try to find out who was behind it. He made me swear.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he?—”
“I don’t know!” The frustration in his voice makes me flinch. He immediately gentles, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Sorry. It’s just… he was terrified. Whatever this was, whoever this is… He said if I tried to investigate, if I told anyone, they’d know.”
“So you’ve been dealing with this alone.”
“Aye. Couldn’t risk telling anyone. Every month, I make the drop and pray it’s enough to keep her safe. Family’s caught on some, but I’ve kept them in the dark. Malachy said if I told my brothers or cousins, they’d find out.”
I shake my head. “Then there’s someone on the inside.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “We’re all fucking loyal to the core.”
“Then why not tell them? Why not use the resources your family has to find out who this is?”
He sighs. “I can’t risk it. Malachy made that abundantly clear.”
“Then wefindthem,” I say firmly. “Whoever’s doing this, we find them, and weendit.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “We?” He snorts. “Erin?—”
“You think I’m going to sit back and do nothing? After everything?” I shift in his lap. “I’m not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I grew up in this world, too, remember? My da wasn’t exactly running acharity.” I tug a lock ofhishair. “You should know that.”
“This is different. This is?—”
“This is the bastard who’s been bleeding you dry and threatening your sister.” My voice turns hard. “I want every detail about the tribute. Every single one. Dates, times, locations, amounts, instructions—everything. And I want a list of every enemy your family has. Everyone who might have a grudge, everyone who’d benefit from bringing you down.”
He stares at me. “That’s a long fuckin’ list, love.”
“Then we better get started.” I lean closer. “I’m not walking away from this. From you. So either we do this together, or I do it on my own, and you can spend your energy worrying about both meandBronwyn…andBridget.”
