Page 69

He’s right, damn him. I’ve spent years training my crew, building a network I can trust. Preparing for this very moment when my past catches up to me. They’re the best at what they do. If anyone can keep Eve safe while we untangle this mess, it’s them.

I drain my glass, letting the burn of whiskey chase away some of the darkness clouding my thoughts. “Keep the rotation tight. I want updates every hour.”

Eli takes another slow sip of whiskey, studying me over the rim of his glass. A hint of amusement plays at the corners of his mouth. “Eve seemed in good spirits this morning when she left for work.”

My hand stills over the map, warmth spreading through my chest at the mention of her name in more casual conversation. The memory of her satiated smile as she kissed me goodbye floods my mind—the way her eyes sparkled with contentment, how she lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

I clear my throat, forcing my attention back to the surveillance photos. “Did she take the route we discussed?”

“Mmhmm.” Eli’s knowing smirk widens. “Even stopped for coffee at that little place you suggested. Though I noticed she ordered an oat milk cortado instead of her usual triple espresso. Seems someone’s tastes are rubbing off on her.”

Heat creeps up my neck. Eve’s been stealing sips of my coffee for days now, wrinkling her nose at first but gradually developing a taste for my preferred blend. The intimacy of that small detail hits me harder than it should.

“The important thing is she’s following the safety protocols,” I say gruffly, shuffling papers to hide my reaction. “As long as she sticks to the established routes—”

“Right, right. The protocols.” Eli’s deep chuckle fills the room. “Nothing at all to do with how she practically floated out of the house this morning, or that satisfied little smile she couldn’t quite hide.”

I shoot him a warning glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Are we discussing security measures or gossiping like teenagers?”

“Can’t it be both?” He drains his glass and sets it on my desk with a solid thunk. “It’s good to see you both happy, brother. Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

“We need to talk to Olivia.” I push away from my desk, ignoring his jests. “She’s our best connection to New York right now.”

Eli nods, already reaching for his phone to make the call. I stride toward the door, my mind racing through contingency plans. The click of my dress shoes against the hardwood echoes my mounting urgency.

“Get Seb up here too.” I order over my shoulder. “He’s got a way of getting Olivia to open up.”

Within minutes, my office fills with trusted faces. Sebastian lounges against the wall, deceptively casual in his designer suit, while Micah takes up position near the door. The energy in the room shifts, becoming charged with purpose.

“Seb, talk to Olivia,” I order. “See what she knows about New York’s operations and involvement.”

Seb shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his designer slacks. A telltale sign he’s about to bullshit me.

“I mean, yeah, I can ask her,” he says with practiced nonchalance. “But Olivia and I aren’t exactly close. I’m done with that just like you asked.”

A snort of laughter erupts from Eli’s direction. Even Micah’s stoic expression cracks with amusement. I fix my brother with a pointed stare, one eyebrow raised.

“Not close?” I echo. “That’s interesting, considering she’s been sneaking out of your penthouse every morning for the past month.”

Color creeps up Seb’s neck. “No she hasn’t. It was once, maybe twice. She needed a place to crash. You know how it is with her situation—”

“Right,” Eli drawls. “And I’m sure you’re sleeping on the couch like a perfect gentleman.”

“Fuck off,” Seb mutters. His lips twitch, fighting a smile.

Micah’s deep chuckle fills the room. “Boy, you ain’t fooling nobody. My security cameras catch everything.”

“Jesus Christ.” Seb runs a hand through his hair, messing up its perfect styling. “Fine. Yes, Olivia and I are still fucking. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” I deadpan. That boy’s going to bring more trouble our way. But if anyone can get Olivia to open up about New York connections, it’s my brother. Even if he’s being stubborn about admitting it. “Now can we focus on getting the intel we need?”

The familiar banter has lightened some of the heaviness in the room. Seb’s shoulders relax as he finally drops the act, a genuine smile breaking through his carefully maintained facade.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs. “I’ll talk to her tonight. But I’m not promising anything. Olivia’s still scared of what might happen if she shares too much about her old life.”

I nod sharply. “Good. Micah, I want you coordinating with our street contacts. Anyone connected to New York orAlessandro’s crew—I want to know where they eat, sleep, and shit.”

“Got it, boss.” He nods.