Iwant to kiss him.
Cian sits before me with his red hair sticking up in all directions thanks to the rain and the attempt on his life. Bruises ring his throat, and three long scratches carve down his cheek. Despite my care, they still stand out bright red on his face and he shies away from my attempts to cover them.
This time last year, I wouldn’t have thought twice about kissing him. Now it’s clearly the last thing on his mind, and I don’t blame him. It’s a deeply selfish part of me that misses him so deeply.
“Tell me,” Cian says, moving back in his chair until I can’t reach him unless I lean forward.
Straightening my back, I pull painkillers from my small handheld medical kit and toss him a few, followed by a bottle of chilled water. “Drink.”
“Is it poisoned?”
Snatching the bottle back, I crack open the seal with a twist of my wrist and hand it back.
Cian snorts. “We both know that proves nothing.”
“Like I said, if I wanted you dead then you’d already be dead. You know me, Cian. I’m not performative enough to send assassins or drag this out.”
Cian eyes me suspiciously for a moment, then he pops the pills into his mouth and chases them with several gulps of water. “Talk.”
“Ever the romantic,” I sigh as I stand and wander toward the balcony. “When you vanished from the hospital, we tore apart New York looking for you. Anastasia was worried that someone had done away with you to fully wipe out whatever remained of the Irish.” Saying those words out loud almost betrays the sheer heartbreaking moment I faced fearing that Cian was really dead for good. “I’m glad to see that she was wrong.” We both were.
“I had to leave,” Cian says after another mouthful of water. He winces and rocks his jaw back and forth. “I wasn’t safe.”
“I know.” I cross my arms over my chest and rub softly at my bare elbow. “Not long after that, all of our businesses were being targeted. At first it looked like just collateral from whoever was going after everything your family had built, but it quickly became clear that we were next. I thought we had a leak because even the underground shit we were working on was getting targeted, so I was digging deep into everyone.”
“And?” Cian leans forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes are narrowed. He’s waiting for me to tell him that a leak in my line is how his family ended up murdered. I almost wish I could tell him that so he could gain some satisfaction from revenge.
“We didn’t have a leak, at least not an individual one.” Leaving the balcony, I sit across from Cian and dump my laptop onto the crate. After a few minutes of typing, the crake creaks as I turn the laptop to face him instead. “Have you ever heard of Hexagon?”
Cian’s brows dip faintly as he pulls the laptop closer. “No. What…” His frown deepens. “What am I looking at?”
“Hexagon is an international criminal organization that’s been around longer than anyone knows. There’s been rumbling about them these past few years taking them from a ghost story to a prominent threat. No one I know has been taking them seriously, but after doing some digging and seeing how quickly they caught onto me, I think it’s because anyone who got close got taken care of.”
“Hexagon,” Cian murmurs softly. “International crime?”
“Yes. They specialize in cybercrime and use manipulation, blackmail, and hacking to get what they want. Think of them as a cyber mafia, only instead of controlling boroughs in New York, they travel the world. Vast amounts of drugs are shipped worldwide because of them, guns and weapons that we would never even think of. While we’re pumping cocaine and submachine guns into the streets, they’re putting missiles in the hands of dangerous governments.”
Cian’s eyes get wider and wider. “What the fuck.”
“Exactly my thinking.” A chill steals down my arms and legs, so I rub my thighs while studying his face. I half-expected a hint of Cian already knowing this, but it becomes clear pretty quickly that he has no idea. “Some even say they have a grip on the Dark Web, but I’m not in a position to confirm that.”
“Then why the fuck are they after us?” Cian tears his gaze away from the laptop and looks me right in the eye. “What the fuck did I, or my family, do to them?”
My chest tightens briefly as the soothing music of the rain outside begins to fade as the shower passes. “I can’t say for sure. They’re a ghost story. To be targeted by Hexagon is to be already dead, but it was always just a story. I never thought they would be real, but I have a… theory.”
“Tell me.” Anger licks at his words, but I get the distinct impression it’s not aimed at me.
“If anyone were in a position to be the secret third benefactor of the underground human trafficking operation that Saoirse uncovered… it would be them. No one else would be in that unique position to just funnel millions into such a scheme without any kind of payoff. At least not a monetary one.”
“They wouldn’t need money, would they?” Cian says as he catches on to my wavelength. “Every single slave, every singlesalewould be blackmail ammunition for the future. Every person they dealt with would become someone they could use.”
“Exactly. We know the type of scumbag who would buy a person, for work or worse. Those are dangerous, awful people, but the instant they made a purchase, they would become a Hexagon pawn. Even those who surrounded themselves with like-minded freaks wouldn’t be able to hide from the stain of slavery for long.”
Cian stands suddenly, and there’s a subtle wobble to his leg. “This is insane,” he says as he gestures to the computer. “This is… huge. Surely, there’s someone else who can deal with this bullshit?”
“Like who?” I gaze up at him with my elbows on my knees. “I think we got onto their radar when Anastasia moved us into supplying the loans to the rich and famous. We were targeting part of their stock and our loans didn’t come with blackmail, just extortion. And Saoirse and Bruno were able to dismantle the trafficking ring they likely saved after Anastasia pulled us out of that business. We slapped ourselves onto their radar and likely cost them billions. My best guest?” I puff out my cheeks. “They’re pissed. Really fucking pissed, and wiping out all organized crime in New York is how they’re going to deal with us. Hell, they’ve almost succeeded.”
“And they’ll what, take our place?” Cian drags both hands through his hair and his face twists as if he’s in physical pain. “You’re telling me my family was slaughtered for this? Because of some shadowy, international criminal and his fucking ego?”
