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That’swhy she never turned me in when I confessed what happened on the water that day. I exacted the revenge on Miller she probably craved at the time.

“He was never charged with any of these. Do you think she’ll give a statement?” Griffin asks me.

“I don’t know.”

“Can you call her?”

“I don’t think the Deputy CIA Director takes calls from the Irish Mob.” I also hid my true identity from her for years. She could have been prosecuted for contracting a made-up person hiding from the mafia.

“Who buried all these allegations?” Connor says.

I scoff, “Who do you think? His father.”

Griffin tightens his jaw. “Unbelievable.”

“What can I do?” Trace, the six-five tattooed enforcer hisses an offer, low and throaty from the back of the room. “Rhys and I can take this fucker out tonight then Shane can erase his existence.”

The air in the room changes, the blood pressure rising in every man at the tempting promise to brutally kill an enemy.

“Do it,” Griffin says, deadpan. “But make it look like a revenge kill. A crime of passion from one of his assault victims. Shane, prepare those files to be leaked to the media, senators, and the mayor.”

The brilliance in the plan floors me. But it doesn’t look like there’s room for me on the enforcer’s kill team. I want my face to be the last thing Rand Miller sees gasping his final breath.

“I’ll download everything and be ready for the leak in a few hours,” Shane says and closes the laptop.

“Where is Miller now?” Griffin asks.

“A hotel,” Trace answers, having gotten that information beforehand. “And right now, according to his credit card, he’s gotcompany.”

“I guess his dick still works,” Griffin says. “Trace and Rhys, I want a kill plan in an hour.”

I stand back and one by one, Quinlan after Quinlan file out of the office with their marching orders.

When they’re all gone and we’re alone, Griffin covers my mouth with his for a long kiss, then he says, “Before Miller’s body goes into the ground, I’m cutting off his dick and shoving it down his throat.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT