"Literature?" I raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly the O'Malley way."
"No. She wanted nothing to do with Connor's operations. From what I've gathered, they barely spoke after she turned eighteen, except when he needed her to take over."
"Convenient story."
"It checks out. I've verified her university records, social profiles, various addresses. She was exactly where she says she was when everything went down."
"So what brought her back?"
Alexander's expression darkened. "The same thing that brings anyone back to face their demons. Guilt and family obligation. When Connor died and the estate burned, she inherited what was left—which included very few assets, some significant debts, and a handful of survivors who had nowhere else to go."
"And she decided to play saviour?"
"She decided to try to make things right." His voice carried a conviction that made my chest tighten. "There were families caught in the crossfire, Ronan. People who worked legitimate jobs for the O'Malley’s and lost everything when we dismantled the operation. They were a small family but a number of elderly relatives depended on Connor's support. She's been using her own money and what little she had left after the assets were sold and debts repaid, to help them."
I studied his face. His tone held no hesitation. Alexander had always been a good judge of character—it was one of the reasons why he'd always found a way in our world.
"What else are you not telling me?"
"There is something else I wanted to speak to you about. I’ve asked Coyne to let me do it first. But let’s discuss this later. You have my word that it’s being taken care of.”
I let out a deep breath. "I don’t like this."
"I promise I’m handling it." Alexander's jaw tightened. "It’s … personal."
I nodded, even though a storm raged inside. Through the window, I watched Cressida gesture toward a rose bush, no doubt telling Aoife about her most cherished garden.
But the fact that she was being kind and yes, bonding someone who was supposed to be an enemy gave me pause while filling me with pride. If Cressida was letting go and turning a new page, then perhaps I should do the same.
"I need to meet her properly," I said finally. "Tonight. Dinner."
"And then?" I turned to face him fully. "Then I decide whether she lives or dies."
My brutal honesty made Alexander go pale, but he nodded. He knew the stakes as well as I did. Trust was earned in blood and lost with a single mistake.
"Ronan..." His voice was rough with emotion he rarely showed. "Thank you. For hearing me out."
"Don't thank me yet." I moved to the sidebar, pouring fresh drinks for both of us. "I'm doing this for you, not for her. But if she's playing you, if this is some elaborate revenge scheme, if she so much as looks at Cressida wrong..."
"I know."
"Good." I checked my watch—still several hours before dinner. Time enough to handle another matter that had been burning in my chest for months. "I have something I need to take care of before tonight."
Alexander's eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't ask. We'd known each other too long for unnecessary questions.
"Just... try to keep an open mind tonight," he said as I headed for the door.
"I'll try. But Alex?" I paused in the doorway, eyes hooked to his and letting him see I meant what I said. "If she hurts Cressida—if she even makes her uncomfortable—all bets are off."
"Understood."
I left him there, my mind already shifting to more pressing concerns. Tonight would bring its own reckoning, but first things first.
I’d been waiting for the right moment. The right place. The right woman.
I found my phone and dialled a number I'd memorized weeks ago, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal.
"It's Flanagan," I said when the call connected. "Is everything ready?"
