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twenty-seven

Davey stepped through the doors of Wilde Security Worldwide’s headquarters, the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. The familiar hum of activity filled the space—agents moving purposefully, voices crackling over comms, the low murmur of strategists dissecting mission details. But today, the tension in the air was different. Tighter. Sharper.

Rowan and Sabin flanked him as they moved toward the tech room, their expressions mirroring his own urgency. They didn’t need to speak; the stakes were clear. Brody O’Connell’s betrayal had left them scrambling for answers, and if there was one person who could break through the layers of deceit, it was Daphne.

Daphne was already at her workstation, multiple screens casting a cold glow over her face as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She barely glanced up as they entered.

“You’re late,” she muttered, not breaking her rhythm.

“Traffic,” Davey deadpanned. “What do you have?”

Daphne exhaled sharply, tilting her head as if debating how much to say before settling on the truth. “Brody didn’t even try to hide some of this. It’s like he wanted someone to find it. Just… not until it was too late.”

Davey frowned, stepping closer to watch the lines of code and decrypted files flashing across the monitors. “Explain.”

Daphne tapped a few more keys, pulling up a folder labeled Red Hook Operations. “Some of this data was buried under layers of encryption, but other files? Practically sitting out in the open, like breadcrumbs left behind. He had kill orders, personnel tracking data, even a few financial transfers that scream ‘black ops.’”

Rowan crossed her arms. “That doesn’t make sense. If he’s been a successful mole for all these years, why would he suddenly get so sloppy?”

“Because he knew we’d come looking,” Daphne said, her voice tight with frustration. “And if we found it, that meant we were already playing the game on his terms. But here’s the kicker—he wasn’t just setting Cade up as a distraction. Everything in here is pointed straight at Liam. If you didn’t believe him about Cade, then he had it all set up for Liam to take the fall.”

“So when I met with Cade to hear him out, he knew his first plan had failed and grabbed Liam?—”

“His backup plan.” Rowan nodded. “But he hadn’t expected Sully to grab Atlas Frost.”

“And he knew Frost would give him up.” Sabin let out a low whistle. “So now he has Liam—a witness he needs to get rid of before he can disappear.”

“You have to prepare yourselves for the possibility he already killed Liam,” Rowan said gently. Davey’s vision blurred for half a second, but then Rowan was there, gripping his arm, grounding him. “I know what you’re thinking, but we don’t know that yet. Until we do, we keep moving. Liam needs us.”

Davey nodded stiffly, forcing himself to push past the doubt clawing at his mind. His chest tightened, the burn of frustration settling into something heavier—fear. He dragged in a slow breath, steadying himself as the thought of Liam already being gone twisted like a knife in his gut. The idea of losing another brother, another member of his family, was a weight he didn’t know how to carry. He didn’t like playing by someone else’s rules. Especially not someone who had been under his command. Brody had been one of theirs—a trusted asset, a man who knew how Wilde Security operated from the inside. That made him dangerous. Potentially desperate.

And desperate men made the most reckless choices.

That was what scared him the most.

“We need to find?—”

The door opened, and Davey broke off, turning to tell whoever it was that this was a private meeting, but the reprimand died on his tongue.

Elliot.

He looked like hell. He was still pale, and he was moving more slowly than usual, but the glint in his blue eyes was pure defiance.

Dom followed him in and gave a helpless shrug. “Sorry, Davey, I tried to stop him. But you know how stubborn he is. I figured it was either let him walk in here or tackle him, and I’m not in the mood to wrestle a stubborn jackass today.”

Elliot smirked. “Please, Dom. You couldn’t take me on my worst day, let alone now.”

Dom scoffed. “Yeah? Keep talking, and I’ll put that theory to the test.”

Sabin snorted. “I’d pay to see that, honestly.”

Davey sighed. “Are you done?”

Elliot lifted his chin, his usual smirk flickering for just a second before hardening into something more serious. “Not even close. But for now, yeah. So, fill me in.”

Davey hesitated, studying his brother. The stubborn determination in Elliot’s face didn’t quite mask the exhaustion underneath. He shook his head. “You need to go home and?—”

“If you say rest, I will punch something. All I’ve done is rest while this whole shitshow is my fault.”

“Ah, mon ami ,” Sabin started, his tone softer now, but Elliot held up a hand, stopping him before he could say more.

“No, it is. I brought Brody into our lives, into our company. I vouched for him, so he’s my responsibility. I’m not sitting on the sidelines for this, so fill me in. Or…” He started toward one of the computer stations. “We can waste time while I fill myself in.”

Davey exhaled through his nose. He could argue—should argue—but it was a fight he wasn’t going to win. And so he filled Elliot in on what they knew.

Elliot nodded as he listened. “And Sully’s in the wind?

“Yeah, Sullivan took off as soon as Frost dropped Brody’s name as the mole.”

“That makes Sully a problem for Brody and for us,” Elliot said. “Sullivan knows him like nobody else. If he leaves Sully alive, that’s like exposing his jugular for an attack.”

Davey stilled, the pieces clicking together. Brody had run out of moves. He had no exit strategy, no contingency plan. Sully, knowing the truth, meant Brody couldn’t just disappear—he’d be hunted. Which meant he was more desperate than ever. A dangerous, cornered man.

Before Davey could respond, Daphne let out a frustrated growl. The entire room stilled as she shoved away from her desk and turned to scowl at them.

“What is it?” Davey asked.

“I need quiet to work. You all hovering isn’t helping.”

Rowan arched a brow. “You’re kicking us out?”

“Yes. Leave. Now.” Daphne pointed to the door. “Give me space, and I’ll have something real for you. Until then, go breathe or eat or fuck or whatever it is you do when you’re not making my job harder.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. Then, Rowan cracked her knuckles, and Sabin let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I don’t have a choice on breathing, but I could eat or fuck or both.” He smirked, casting a glance around the room. “Any volunteers?”

“No, thanks,” Dom said. “You’re pretty and all, Cavalier, but I prefer females.”

Sabin spread his hands, utterly unbothered. “Me, too. But we’re short on time, and Daphne told us to fuck. I’m nothing if not efficient.”

Daphne groaned and rubbed at her temples. “Get. Out. Seriously. Before I throw something at one of you.”

Sabin headed for the door but stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, Elliot.” He grinned again, but this one was not from the playful, joking Sabin. This was the predator’s grin, and it was all sharp edges. “And Brody’s not going to like what’s coming next. I can promise you that.”

Elliot scoffed lightly, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t change the fact that I handed him the keys and welcomed him in.”

Davey knew the weight of that guilt, had carried it before. “You can beat yourself up about it after we get Liam back.”

Elliot didn’t answer right away, but the tension in his jaw loosened slightly. He gave a short nod, then gestured toward the door. “Let’s let Daph do her job so we find this son of a bitch.”

Everyone followed him out, but Davey hesitated.

Daphne glanced over at him. “That means you, too, Davey. I can’t work with you looming like the world’s most stressed-out gargoyle.” Her gaze slid to Rowan before returning to him. “I wasn’t joking earlier with the breathe, eat, fuck comment. This might take a while, and you need to relax.”

Breathe. Eat. Fuck.

Right.

The last two weren’t happening, but he could manage the first.

He exhaled, but the unease still coiled tight in his chest. The feeling of helplessness gnawed at him, an itch beneath his skin that no amount of planning or strategizing could soothe. Stepping back went against every instinct, but right now, he had no choice. He reminded himself that waiting—letting Daphne work—was action in itself.

“All right. I’ll be in my office. Let me know the moment anything pops.”

As they left, Rowan weaved her fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The warmth of the gesture anchored him, a quiet reassurance that he wasn’t carrying this alone. He didn’t acknowledge it, but he didn’t pull away either. And for the first time since the sniper attack at the cafe, he let himself take a deep breath.