Before he can answer, the door opens, and Brennan walks in.
His usual crooked smile vanishes the moment he looks at me. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“You can pour us all a fucking drink,” I sigh, exhaustion starting to creep in.
I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than a few hours at a time. Normally, caffeine and adrenaline are enough to keep it at bay, but the moment I think of Riley, it all comes crashing down.
Brennan does just that, stalking over to the bar cart and pouring all of us a triple whiskey.
“Remind me to restock that once this is over,” I say to Ronan, who huffs a laugh.
“I’ll hold you to that, so you better not fucking die.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Brennan settles a glass down in front of Ronan and me and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. “What’s going on? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My eyes go to our big brother. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”
Ronan waves a hand as he takes a long sip of his whiskey, hissing through his teeth as it slides down his throat. “Buckle up, Brennan, shit just got real.”
By the time I’m done, Brennan’s jaw is clenched and his hands are balled into fists.
All three of our drinks are long empty, so Ronan goes to collect the half-empty decanter and sets it down on the desk.
Brennan’s brows are furrowed. “We can’t just let Sean do this.”
“Of course, we’re fucking not,” I retort. “Not just because we have a responsibility to our employees, but also if the media catches so much as a whiff of any of this, we’re ruined.”
“So, what’s the plan? Hit him first?”
Ronan shakes his head. “He’ll be expecting us to retaliate.”
“What he won’t be expecting is for us to intercept them at the point of attack,” I finish.
Brennan frowns. “That sounds risky. We would still be allowing Sean’s men to get close enough to the business.”
Ronan smirks. “Which is why we’re going to do just that. Sean won’t expect us to let him get so close, so when we do, his men are going to be cocky and less alert.”
“They’ll think they’re going to get away with it.” Brennan grins.
I tilt my drink in his direction. “You catch on quick.”
Brennan smirks as he freshens up his own.
“Sometimes, it really freaks me out how much you sound like the old man.”
Ronan rolls his eyes, but I can see the faint glimmer of pride in them.
I take a sip of whiskey. “I can still hear his voice, sometimes. The way he would talk us through his rules at the dinner table even though we were barely old enough to understand.”
“The business comes first,” Brennan echoes, and we all nod.
“Not the money or the power,” I add.
“But the people,” Ronan finishes. “They keep us standing, so you will protect them like family.”
“Because in the end, they are.”
