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Page 13 of Dublin Charmer (Emerald Isle Mafia #5)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nyx

T he sound of movement in the hall has me standing at the ready, my fingers curled around the shaft of the syringe, my heart hammering against my ribs.

What does it say that Finn didn’t search me last night when I was unconscious?

Either he’s more of a gentleman than the men I’m used to dealing with, or he’s not very good at what he does.

My instincts tell me it’s more the gentlemanly thing.

Still, that’s his mistake because I’m getting out of here.

This syringe is all I have and even though all it will do is make him relaxed and a little loose-lipped, I’ll make it work for me. One good jab to the neck, and I’ll have leverage. He doesn’t know what I’m threatening to inject into him. It could be toxic.

The lock clicks and I fight to seem relaxed. I’m facing the door and am ready to lunge and force my way out of here when the door swings open.

My plan instantly crumbles.

Finn isn’t alone. A mountain of a man stands in the doorway—leather-clad with tattoos snaking up his neck and a jagged scar cutting across his face. His eyes sweep the room with predatory focus, landing on me with a look that says he could snap my neck without blinking.

I recognize him from Gravely’s files: Sean Quinn, president of the Dublin Devils MC.

There’s no way I’ll be able to get the upper hand on Finn with Sean within arm’s reach of knocking me out.

I slip the syringe behind my back, forcing my face into neutral.

Finn saunters into the room after his brother, carrying a tray with silver domes over the plates. I don’t know what the morning’s offering is, but it’s making my mouth water.

Behind him trails a young woman with long dark hair. She looks like she might be a couple of years younger than me and is clutching a stack of folded clothes.

“These should fit you.” She extends the pile toward me, but my hand remains behind my back, clutched around the syringe. “I had to guess your size based on seeing you through the monitor screen, but they’ll be close.”

The girl hesitates at my lack of response, then sets the clothes on the table. “I’m Piper, by the way. Formerly Piper McGuire.”

“McGuire? As in the enemy of the Quinns?”

She chuckles. “Yep. That’s them. I defected.”

Huh, I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. Billy never mentioned a daughter, but what do I know?

“My family sold my virginity to the Bratva and beat me to a pulp when I had the nerve to object. I realized then that the people running the south side of Dublin are barbarian assholes.”

Gravely definitely is, but I have had little interaction with her family.

“You may not realize it yet, but you’re much better off being here with the Quinns than you were working for Billy-fucking-Gravely.”

I blink, processing this unexpected confession while trying not to give anything away.

“All right, beautiful. Let’s be on our way.” Sean’s voice is deep and graveled, but when he looks at Piper, there’s nothing but adoration and devotion in his eyes.

Whoa, he’s got it bad.

Before I form a response, Piper hurries back to him, ducking under his protective arm to exit out into the hall. The look that passes between them speaks volumes—possessive, intimate. Sean pegs his brother with a look and when Finn nods, he slips out, leaving Finn and me alone.

The door closes with a heavy thud.

Finn has set the tray down on the table and frowns at last night’s untouched dinner. “Nyx, seriously, ye need to eat. I swear we won’t poison you or drug ye—well, again. Yer here now and that’s in the past.”

I scoff. “Right. Drugging me is so ten hours ago. Forgiven. Forgotten.”

He chuckles. “Granted, I may have taken the path of brutes and criminals, but I needed to get ye away from Gravely and to stop ye from coming at our system.”

“Mission accomplished.”

He shrugs, pulls out one of the two chairs, and drags the dessert plate off last night’s tray and onto the table. With casual indifference, he picks up the plastic spork, slices off a piece of chocolate cake and takes a bite.

“Ye don’t know how badly yer missing out. Cora makes the best chocolate cake in Dublin.” He gestures to the fresh tray with his fork. “Breakfast is just as good. Come eat while the food is hot.”

“Go fuck yourself, Quinn.”

His expression doesn’t change. He simply takes another bite of cake, his gaze never leaving mine.

I glare back, furious at his calm, at my helplessness, and at how desperately I need to get back to Gio. Every minute here is another minute my brother suffers.

With a frustrated growl, I snatch the clothes from the table and storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I lean against it, finally releasing the syringe from my cramping fingers. It clatters into the sink.

I stare at my tired, hollow-eyed reflection. My hair is a rat’s nest from not taking it down and last night’s party dress is now wrinkled from sleep. I need to get control of this situation somehow. I’ve got to get off my back foot and start playing an offensive game.

Gio’s face flashes in my mind. I close my eyes.

“I’m coming, little brother,” I whisper. “Don’t give up on me.”

Finn

Nyx disappears into the bathroom with the stack of clothes Piper put together for her and I stab another bite of chocolate cake into my mouth. The girl’s got fire, intelligence, and a sharp tongue. But underneath that defensive shell, there’s something driving her, something worth understanding.

It’s not corruption or greed…it’s something else.

And as confident as I was when I told Tag I would handle it and get the information we need, now, I’m hoping that’s true. Because, as much as I protest that I’m in this family business like the rest of them, I don’t have nearly the same amount of experience interrogating people.

Not that Brendan and Bryan’s interrogation expertise has any bearing here.

Because it doesn’t.

No, Tag is the strategic one, and I focus on how he would handle this. He would find out what she wants or needs and then work out a path to help her get it and win her over. There’s no world in which working for a brutal bastard like Billy Gravely is better than working with my family.

I just need to convince her of that.

The bathroom door opens, and she emerges in dark jeans and a navy cotton knit that hugs her curves. The outfit is casual, but she’s no less beautiful than she was all dressed up to impress.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.” I gesture to the covered plates. “Come eat.”

Her eyes narrow. “Not hungry.”

I lift the silver dome cover and reveal a full English breakfast: bacon, sausage, poached eggs, roasted tomatoes, fried mushrooms, baked beans, and toast. Steam rises from the plate and the savory scent fills the air between us. She doesn’t look the slightest bit interested.

Either she’s not a big breakfast eater, or she’s an award-winning actress.

But she really needs to eat.

“How about this—I’ll share your breakfast with you and take a bite of everything first to prove it’s safe.”

She crosses her arms but doesn’t immediately shoot me down.

Progress? Too soon to tell.

I pick up a plastic spork and sample each item on the plate. “Sorry about the plastic utensil. Can’t have you stab me before I convince you I’m not the enemy, now, can I?”

A ghost of a smile flickers across her face. She drops into the chair across from me and picks up the other spork. “Do you honestly think a spork will keep you safe from me if I intended to stab you?”

“Hostile.” I take a spoonful of Cora’s baked beans and cut off the end of one of the sausages. Without an ounce of hesitation, I eat that and then go for some eggs and bacon.

It’s a minor victory when she picks up the piece of toast and cuts the tomato in half. “Why bring me here? What do you want?”

I finish chewing and swallow. “We needed you away from Gravely and for you to stop messing with our network. I work really hard on network security and having you mucking about to breach my protocols isn’t cool.”

She scoffs. “But if you could break into his network, you’d totally do it, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, aye. Without a doubt.”

A frown line appears in the center of her forehead. “So, what’s the difference?”

I hold up my spork and grin. “Glad you asked. The difference is that we’re the good guys and you’re working for the wrong team. It would be in your best interest and ours for you to cut ties with Gravely and join Team Quinn.”

She blinks at me, her mouth open to take another bite of toast. “Just like that? I should wash my hands of Gravely and switch sides.”

“You asked me what we want—that’s it. Plain and simple.”

“Only nothing about anything is plain and simple.”

“Gravely is a fucking monster. You realize that, don’t you?”

She rolls her eyes and picks up the mug of coffee, seemingly unwilling to get into Billy Gravely as a topic.

Grand, then I’ll try something else. “I’ve been looking into you and what happened to your father. You might not be aware of this, but families like ours have deep-rooted ties and loyalties to other families. My da respected the Rossi family a great deal.”

Her hand freezes halfway to her mouth, her gaze hardening. “I don’t know what you think you know, but…”

“I know about your father getting taken down in the Rossi takeover in 2017. I know Antonio was highly respected in our circles. It couldn’t have been easy for you and your brother to disappear and go on.”

She sets the spork down, her face carefully blank. “You know nothing about anything.”

“Emilia, listen. Whatever is going on with you, we can help. The Specter was respected as the best hacker the Rossi family ever had. Obviously he passed down his skills. You could have a place here with us. You and your brother, Gio.”

Her entire body tenses.

The shift is subtle but unmistakable—like a cat preparing to strike.

Whatever is going on with her has to do with her brother. “Where is he? Are you two still close?”

She pushes away from the table. “We’re done here.”

“Emilia—”