Page 112 of Protecting Peyton

“I understand,” Lucas answered. “Jordy will go through that in a moment, but first, I want to discuss another item. Most of you know I’ve been wanting to expand our operations.”

Peyton returned her hand to mine, and I squeezed back. “Patience,” I whispered.

My eyes swung to Yates. How was taking him on as a client expanding our operation?

Yates’s expression didn’t give anything away.

Lucas’s hand swung to Yates. “I’d like to introduce Yates Sinclair.”

True to her unfiltered form, Grace was the first to gasp. “The billionaire?”

Yates raised a hand. “Just Yates is fine.”

Serena waved. “Hi, Yates.”

“Hello, Serena,” he replied.

Duke wrapped an arm around his woman, maybe to hold her down. “You know him?”

“He and my dad have done some business,” she answered.

Yates nodded.

Other jaws just dropped open.

Peyton’s grip on me tightened. She was apprehensive.

After a second, Lucas continued. “We are here to welcome Yates into the Hawk family. He is the cousin we never knew we had.”

Cousin? I was slack-jawed because it didn’t compute. It took an aunt or an uncle to have a cousin, and Lucas had neither.

A quick check of Jordy and Duke’s faces confirmed they already knew about this guy, so the obvious questions about his lineage had to have been asked.

Yates explained, “I was adopted, and in looking for my birth parents and the rest of my family, we…” He motioned between himself and Lucas. “…discovered through DNA that my mother was Lucas’s mother’s sister, his aunt.”

It still didn’t explain how nobody had ever mentioned the aunt, but DNA evidence cinched it. I could relax that this wasn’t some weird misunderstanding.

“You should all welcome Yates into our group. He refuses to change his name, but he’s a Hawk now.”

That drew laughter from the crowd, and Peyton pulled her hand from mine to wipe it on her jeans.

“Names aside,” Yates said. “We are of the same blood, and I’m happy to call Lucas, Jordy, Duke, Bret, Emily, and Alice, all family.”

“You forgot Mom and Dad,” Duke prodded.

“Yes, Aunt Carol and Uncle Henry as well,” Yates amended.

“With that out of the way,” Lucas said. “There is another item. Yates has a small corporate cybersecurity group that we are going to merge into Hawk. So, we’ll be in business together as well.”

Change could be unsettling, but I didn’t detect any concerned faces among the group.

Yates looked around the room. “I happen to think corporate cybersecurity is a lucrative opportunity, and I don’t have the time or expertise to manage it properly. It deserves the attention Lucas and Jordy can give it, and it augments Hawk’s other capabilities.”

Jordy beamed and buffed his nails against his shirt.

The doorbell rang again, and I rushed to get the door.

A rideshare car left the curb as I opened the door. The man with the suitcases and battered leather briefcase looked every bit the grizzled detectivefrom a TV series. He was partially balding, his hair a mixture of the original red and some gray, a paunch around the middle, a badge clipped to his belt, and a bulge beneath his rumpled suit that said he liked an old-style shoulder holster for his weapon. “Sergeant James O’Connor, Boston Homicide,” the man said jovially, shoving his hand forward. “Mr. Hawk?”