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Someone understood that stealing money wouldn't be enough. Murdering heirs wouldn't be enough. Attacking individual families wouldn't be enough either. If the objective is to destroy the Crown, then the five families have to stop believing the alliance protects them.

They have to begin believing it is the threat. Once that happens, whoever built OB6 doesn't need to destroy us. We'll do it ourselves. My gaze moves toward Declan. He's gone quiet again. Not merely listening. Thinking.

His attention remains fixed on the Irish transactions Elena displayed earlier. He has barely looked away from them in ten minutes.

"What?" I ask.

Declan glances at me. "What?"

"You've been staring at those transactions long enough to memorize them."

"Perhaps I've developed an interest in accounting."

Elena gives him a dry look. "Nobody develops an interest in accounting."

"Apparently you did."

"I developed an interest in being right. Accounting is simply how I achieve it."

Even Santiago almost smiles.

The moment doesn't last.

Declan looks back at the screen. "Those Irish companies aren't mine."

"Not directly," Elena says. "They're connected to Crown Logistics operating through Dublin and Belfast."

"Who authorized them?"

"We haven't established that yet."

"Send me everything."

"I will."

His phone vibrates against the table.

Nobody reacts at first. Phones have been going off throughout the meeting as our organizations respond to the emergency measures we've ordered.

Declan picks his up. Then he stops.

I notice because men like Declan don't simply stop. They react, decide, and move. His thumb freezes above the screen while his eyes remain fixed on whatever message he's received.

His face doesn't pale. He doesn't swear. He doesn't show anything obvious enough for a stranger to recognize the change.

But I do.

The man disappears behind his eyes. For the first time since this meeting began, Declan isn't thinking about OB6. He's somewhere else entirely.

"Declan."

He doesn't respond. His gaze remains fixed on the message.

I lean back slightly, watching him. "Problem?"

He reads it again. Volkov notices now. Lorenzo does too. Santiago looks between us, his earlier anger momentarily forgotten.

Declan slowly lowers the phone.