Page 6 of Dublin Charmer (Emerald Isle Mafia #5)
CHAPTER SIX
Finn
I stalk into the war room, pissed that Tag called us down for a meeting on Christmas Eve when our family and food are upstairs and waiting.
Well, if I’m being honest, I’m not thrilled about what’s coming upstairs either.
I love my brothers but standing witness as the twins propose to their lady loves while my ego is still bruised from Ginny’s rejection doesn’t appeal.
I’m the last to arrive and find the other four in the festive spirit, shooting the shit.
Tag is seated at the head of the table, Sean to his left, and Bryan and Brendan across from him. Brendan’s got his leg propped up on a chair and has a bald patch and a bandage on his head.
“Look who’s home from the hospital,” Tag announces, gesturing to Brenny.
“How you feeling, brother?”
“Like I got shot.” Brendan grins. “The docs say the knock to the head was the worry, but I suffered no brain damage.”
Bryan claps his twin on the shoulder. “You’d have to have a brain for it to get damaged, dumbass.”
Sean snorts. “You realize you two share the same genetic makeup, right?”
Bryan waves away the insult. “I took the lion’s share of the brains.”
“That means I got the brawn,” Brendan says.
“You fucking wish.”
I chuckle. “It’s good to have you back, Brenny.”
“Aye, it is,” Tag says. “So, let’s get this done and get upstairs to celebrate. Who wants to go first?”
Sean leans forward. “Piper confirmed with her brother that this wasn’t a McGuire hit. In fact, Gravely’s making enemies left and right on the south side.”
Tag steeples his fingers. “I’ve been stuck doing damage control. All medical costs for our guests and the catering staff have been covered, and I think I’ve smoothed all the ruffled feathers. The last thing we need is more bad blood.”
“What about the cops?” Bryan asks. “Is this going to come back on us?”
Tag shakes his head. “From what our man on the inside says, we’re clear. Too many witnesses spoke up to say Gravely’s men struck unprovoked.”
“Because Gravely’s gone fucking rogue,” Sean adds.
Tag casts a look at me. “What have you learned by digging into the hacker’s network?”
“Not a damn thing,” I snap. “It’s not like I can just start opening files. It’s delicate work. I’ll let you know when I have something and if I don’t—I don’t.”
Tag’s eyebrows shoot up. “What’s got your knickers in a twist? You’ve been a right moody shite since yesterday. Did the gunfight shake you up that bad?”
“Fuck off. I’m just as much a Quinn as any of you arseholes. A firefight isn’t going to faze me.”
“Then what is it?”
I blow out a breath. “If you must know, Ginny and I…had a moment at the party. I thought maybe...”
The laughter starts with Bryan and spreads like wildfire.
“Wait,” Bryan wheezes, “is that who those earrings were for? After one shag?”
“Christ, Finn.” Tag shakes his head. “You’re too eager, little brother. And she’s what, seven years older? She used to babysit you.”
“And what about the ten-year age gap between Sean and Piper?”
Tag waves it off. “Look, let me give you some advice. Ginny’s a great girl for a good time, but she’s never wanted our lifestyle. Don’t take it personally.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what she said.” Tag’s words sink in, and I eye him suspiciously. “Wait. Have you slept with her?”
He shrugs. “Back in the day, after Siobhan. We tangled up a few times.”
Sean snorts into his whiskey. “She’s got a thing for Quinn boys all right. Had me after one of Da’s parties years ago.”
Bryan and Brendan exchange looks, then burst out laughing.
“What?” I demand.
“We thought we were the only ones,” Brendan says. “We hooked up before Bryan and Yasmine got serious.”
“Both of you?” My voice cracks.
Brendan lounges back, smirking despite his injury. “It’s a twin thing, kid. The ladies love a fucking tag team.”
I throw my hands up. “Un-fucking-believable. So I’m what, the last Quinn notch on her bedpost?”
“Don’t be bitter,” Tag says. “She’s just living her life. Besides, you’ve got bigger things to worry about. That hacker’s still out there.”
“Fine.” I slouch in my chair. “But next family meeting, can we maybe discuss who else has shagged their way through Dublin? Save me some embarrassment?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Sean grins. “Now, about Gravely...”
Nyx
The microwave dings. I grab my sad turkey dinner and shuffle back to my workstation.
My Airstream is dead silent except for the hum of servers and the occasional semi-truck going by on the highway in the distance.
The beauty of parking in the Airstream in an off-season storage yard is that I have no neighbors.
It also means I’m spending Christmas alone.
“Merry Christmas, Gio.” I lift my heavily spiked eggnog toward the monitor where my brother sits locked in his cell. His head is bowed over a paper plate of what looks like prison slop.
My chest aches. Last Christmas we made Papa’s lasagna recipe together, drank wine and burned the garlic bread.
I take a swig of nog, letting the bourbon burn.
The other screens show various security feeds from the Quinn and McGuire compounds and the exterior of my little home away from home.
I bet the Quinns have a massive Christmas tree twinkling with lights.
Watching them at their Christmas party, it was obvious they actually buy into all the wholesome holiday bullshit.
Which means, everyone should be distracted by festivities, and their network security should be running on autopilot.
I crack my knuckles and pull up my command console. “Time to try a different approach.”
My previous attempts had been too straightforward.
I hadn’t expected their system to be so well-guarded.
According to the intel I was given, the Quinn network security was solely run by the youngest brother, Finn.
I expected to find basic level firewalls with rudimentary encryption.
Instead, I got my overconfident ass handed to me.
Underestimating him was my mistake—it won’t happen again.
Knowing what I know now, I’ve got a new plan. Finn Quinn might sound like the name of a know-nothing punchline for a joke, but he’s no joke. The direct approach was too obvious, but what if I slip in through a side door instead?
I search for a bit, experimenting with some of their lower-priority systems, and decide to take a run at the one that handles climate control and lighting. It’s got low functionality and has likely been overlooked as a point of interest.
With my goal in mind, I craft a gentle probe, making it look like routine maintenance traffic.
“Come on, baby. Let me in.”
When the system doesn’t reject me or throw up any barriers, I rub my hands together and feel the rush of adrenaline that comes with me proving I’m the best at what I do.
But I move cautiously. No rushing this time.
I inch forward, map the network architecture, and look for weaknesses in Finn’s segmentation.
It takes a while, but eventually, I find a maintenance account with broader access than it should have. Sloppy. I conceal my interest by disguising my presence and begin exploring deeper into their network, careful to stay within expected traffic patterns.
“Let the games begin.”
Later, I’m not sure how long I’ve had my head stuck down the rabbit hole, my fork clinks against the plastic dinner tray as I finish with my dried-out turkey and lumpy potatoes. Sadly, my eggnog is badly watered down, the ice cubes nullifying the beautiful buzz of the bourbon.
Still, I’m getting somewhere.
Movement on the fourth screen draws my attention to my brother’s cell and the asshole of a guard who insists on kicking the door every time he walks past, just to make him jump. I brush my thumb over the image of my brother. “I’ll get you out of there, Gio. I swear.”
But for now…I need to keep Billy Gravely thinking he’s got me under his thumb.
I return my focus to the Quinn network.
My phone buzzes and I scowl at the caller. “Yeah?”
“Oi, is that any way to talk to your employer on Christmas Eve?” Billy Gravely’s oily voice makes my skin crawl. “I trust you’re making progress?”
I glance at Gio’s feed. “I’m working on it as we speak. These things take time if I don’t want to get caught. You lead me to believe the Quinn network was being taken care of by one of the brothers as a task divvied among the brothers. This guy has the goods.”
“Well, if you’re not up to the task…”
“No. I can do it. It’ll just take a little more time.”
“Time is something you’re running out of. Your brother would like to keep all his fingers for the new year, I imagine.”
The line goes dead and I hurl my phone across the room where it clatters against the wall and drops on my little couch.
“Cazzo!” I press my palms against my eyes and fight back the sting of tears. I won’t cry for this asshole. I won’t! He doesn’t deserve my emotions. When I look up, Gio is staring directly into the camera.
Does he know I’m watching? Does he know I’m searching for him?
I touch the screen. “Hold on, little brother. I’m coming.”