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“But you knew he did?”
“Yes.”
“Does he work for the Wren Project?”
“No, as I said before, I don’t believe so.”
“And he doesn’t work for you either?”
“No. We’ve worked together on some things, but he does not work for me. Brody goes his own way, and I truly don’t know who he reports to—if anyone.”
This was like pulling teeth, and Jazz was getting tired of it. Kate was going to share only what she wanted. No matter how many times Jazz asked, nothing would be revealed that Kate hadn’t already planned in advance to reveal.
“All right, last question. Why did Kevin Doyle have me kidnapped? What did he want with me?”
“You’re the only living heir of Ronan Byrne.”
“So? What does that mean?” She let loose a derisive snort. “They want me to be some kind of crime family moll?”
“No, I don’t think they considered you to be anything other than a pawn. They likely have someone they want you to marry, to bring all the fractured pieces of the organization back together.”
“That’s it? I’m just supposed to be some kind of superglue for them?”
“That’s one way of putting it, but that’s not the biggest reason they want you.”
“Then what is it?”
Kate’s gaze turned to Xavier. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell her.”
“We had other things to discuss,” Xavier said.
“Very well. When Byrne died, his will was explicit and ironclad. Only his heir could inherit his fortune. You were named as his secondary heir and were supposed to get his fortune when you turned eighteen. That’s why they stuck you with Arthur Kelly. But then you and Brody disappeared. Now that they’ve found you again, my guess is that they want to use you to claim the inheritance and build the organization back up.”
“So Byrne knew he had a daughter?” Eve asked.
“Yes. I’m not sure how—maybe he kept tabs on Eliza. Regardless, he named Jazz in his will.”
Jazz would examine that “kept tabs on Eliza” information later. She needed to concentrate on other things now. “So this inheritance is so immense that it’s worth kidnapping and torturing me to get it?”
“It was to Kevin Doyle, and I’m sure there are a few more just like him. So yes.”
“How much?” Jazz asked.
“A little over a hundred million dollars.”
After a jaw-dropping second of astonishment, Jazz had no choice but to burst out laughing. The little girl who’d once gotten excited when she’d found a half-eaten hot dog on the street that someone had thrown away was actually a multimillionaire. Jazz remembered devouring that hot dog and thinking nothing could ever taste better. And only a few miles away, a fortune had been waiting for her.
“Wait,” Serena said. “When an heir isn’t located within a certain number of years, the money is normally turned over to the state, isn’t it?”
Kate’s smile was both grim and slightly admiring. “In most cases, that’s very true. However, Ronan Byrne was not your average, everyday person making out his will. He locked it in a way no one could touch it.”
“But how—” Serena said.
“Byrne had more politicians, judges, and lawyers in his pocket than anyone I’ve ever seen. If he wanted to make it happen, it happened.” Kate looked at Jazz and said quietly, “The money is yours to claim.”
Jazz had had her fill. No longer wanting to even think about Ronan Byrne, Kevin Doyle, or any other freak affiliated with the Irish mob, or all the dirty money waiting for her, she sent Serena a look. “I’d like to leave now, if that’s okay.”
Her eyes bright with warmth and sympathy, she said, “Let’s go.”