The damn thing’s blank.
Chapter 37
Brody
I pace a hole in the Ritz’s marble lobby. It’s been eight hours since I called Declan, more than that since I’ve seen Trinity.
Where the hell did she go?
As pissed as I am, I don’t want to see her walk through that door with Declan’s hand around her neck. So if she’s going to disappear, she better stay gone for a little while longer.
I stop short when Declan and Connor stride through the hotel lobby doors, flanked by two of our men.
Declan looks at me with his lips fixed in that half-smile that haunts my days. Despite him not being on his home turf, his confident swagger hasn’t faded. As he approaches, the stench of cigar smoke wafts off him, a scent that just a few days ago felt familiar, if not comforting.
Now I struggle not to gag.
When he reaches me, Declan claps me on the shoulder, a token gesture containing no warmth and a lifetime of expectation. “You caused a hell of a mess and dragged me halfway across the country. This prize better be worth it.”
“It will be.”
I nod at Connor. We don’t hug—never really have—but he’s still my brother. Taller and thinner than me, with Declan’s darkeyes and a calm, observant presence, he’s the eldest and the favorite child. Always has been.
The familiar pang feels milder than normal for some reason.
“What are we waiting for?” Declan’s never at his best first thing in the morning.
Or ever. Still, since I don’t have a death wish, I pivot and lead the way to the elevator bank. The enforcers stay in the lobby, keeping a watchful eye on the hotel’s entrance.
Once we’re in the suite, Declan settles on the sofa, pulling out a fresh cigar and waving a hand at me. “Get on with it.”
Swallowing the sting of his dismissive tone, I pass the hard drive to Connor, who sits down beside Declan and sets up his laptop on the mahogany coffee table.
“So you lost the girl but managed to keep this?”
I glare at the back of Connor’s skull as I beeline for the mini bar, in desperate need of a drink. “Shit happens. I got what we needed.”
Connor shakes his head, snorting as he glances around while waiting for his PC to boot up. “Will you take me captive next?”
I down a mini bottle of vodka in one shot. “Maybe if you grow an ass and wear a skirt.”
“Like you could afford me.”
“The drive, Connor.” Declan’s sharp command shuts us both up.
I stand back, waiting for the flicker of pride in Declan’s eyes when he realizes I stole the keys to the Irish Kings’ empire and dropped them into his palm.
Connor clicks away at the keyboard, his shoulders tense as Declan grows impatient.
Declan taps ash off the end of his cigar. “What’s the damn holdup?”
Connor flicks a glance at him. “It’s password protected. I’m trying a few basic ones before I go through the effort of cracking it.”
Trinity’s not stupid. She’s not going to pick “password” or a string of easy numbers.
But sheisdevoted to her friend.
I rattle off the date of Angelica’s kidnapping.
