LOGIN"That's what I need to find out," Jameson said. "The Colluccis don't have the resources to pull off something this sophisticated on their own. Someone had to finance this operation, coordinate the logistics, brief them on the restaurant layout.""You think they have backing?""I think it's possible. Which is why we need to get back to the compound and interrogate those Collucci men. They'll know who's pulling the strings, who's funding them, whether this is part of something bigger.""And if they don't know?""Then we figure out who benefits from destabilizing the Connelly-Vitale alliance. Who has the resources and the motivation to orchestrate something like this." He paused, his expression hardening. "And we find out if this is just the beginning.""One problem," I said."What?""You're still half-drugged. You're not interrogating anyone in this state. You need at least another hour of rest, some food in your stomach, and probably a shower to help your body process the chemicals fas
JAMESON The bedroom was tense as I dressed for the lunch meeting. Cat sat on the edge of the bed, still in her tank top and shorts, arms crossed over her chest. She hadn't spoken to me all morning. Not when I'd kissed her forehead. Not when I'd invited her to shower with me. Not even now, as I buttoned my shirt. "You're sure about this?" I asked, trying one more time. "I'm sure you're leaving me behind," she said flatly. "Because you're just getting your strength back. Because I need to know you're safe.""Mmhmm." I crossed the room and tilted her chin up so she'd look at me. "Cat, I'm coming back. This is just a business lunch." "With a family that wants to take over my father's territory." "Which is why I'm meeting with them. To see what they really want. To assess the threat level." S
JAMESONPatrick Fitzpatrick looked small in the interrogation room.That was my first thought when Declan hauled him in, zip-tied and terrified. The mid-level associate who I'd thought was solid, loyal, was now looking at the cold steel table like it might bite him."Leave us," I said to Declan."Sir—""I said leave."Once he was gone, I pulled out the chair across from Patrick and sat down slowly. Deliberately. I let the silence stretch between us, watching the way his eyes darted around the room like a cornered animal."Patrick," I said finally. "We need to talk about your Russian friends.""I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but his voice cracked."Really?" I leaned back in the chair. "Because we have evidence suggesting otherwise."He started sweating. Actual beads of sweat forming on his forehead."I swear, Mr. Connelly, I'
JAMESON"We'll find him," Declan said, studying the surveillance footage. "Give us a few hours."I wanted to argue, wanted to push forward, but I was exhausted. More than that, I was done. Done with Patrick, done with threats, done with everything except the woman standing quietly in the corner of the war room."No," I said, surprising myself. "Call it for the night. Send teams to his known locations, but nothing aggressive until morning. If he runs, we track him. We have time."Declan looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "You sure?"I glanced at Cat. She was watching me with an unreadable expression, but there was a slight curve to her lips that suggested she knew exactly what I was thinking."Yeah," I confirmed. "I'm sure. Get some rest. We reconvene at 0600."The team filed out quietly, sensing that their boss had reached his limit. I waited until the last man left b
JAMESONWe settled on the couch, and I pulled her close, needing to understand what had shifted during that meeting."Tell me everything," I said.Cat took a breath and laid it out: Viktor Volkov, the new Russian leader. More vicious. More vengeful. A direct threat not just to me, but to both families."Your father's not wrong," I said when she finished. "We do have a problem with loyalty. I've been discussing it with Declan. We've identified at least six men who were close to Isaac. Patrick Fitzpatrick is flagged as a priority suspect.""Fiona's father?" Cat's eyes narrowed."He has grievances," I confirmed. "And opportunity. Someone fed Isaac information about your schedule that day, Cat. Someone knew when you'd be on that road."She was quiet for a moment, processing."So we have external threats and internal ones," she said finally."And the two are
JAMESONThe study felt too quiet as I paced, my mind churning through the list Declan had compiled."Six men," I said, stopping at the desk. "Six men we know had contact with Isaac in the weeks before the attack."Declan nodded from his position by the window. "At minimum. There could be more we haven't identified yet.""Patrick Fitzpatrick," I said, the name tasting bitter. "Fiona's father. He was close to Isaac.""He was," Declan confirmed. "And he's not happy about his daughter's rejection by you. Grievance plus opportunity."I ran a hand through my hair. "Isaac didn't act alone. I know he didn't. Someone fed him information about Cat's schedule that day. Someone told him when she'd be on that road.""The drivers," Declan said quietly. "One of them has to have been compromised. They knew the route. They knew the timing."I nodded slowly. The drivers. Of course. The most obvious vulnerability, and Isaac had exploited it perfectly. Or rather, whoever had put Isaac up to it had exploit
CATARINAA week had passed since the coordinated strike, and I was starting to feel almost human again.Almost.My ribs still protested every movement, and the cast on my arm was a constant reminder of my limitations. But at least the swelling aroun
JAMESONDr. Sullivan arrived within the hour, his medical bag in hand and his expression professionally neutral despite the blood still staining my jacket."Let's have a look," he said, gesturing for me to sit at the dining room table.I lowered myself into the chair carefully, my shoulder screamin
JAMESONThe restaurant was neutral territory—a high-end Italian place in River North that catered to both families without favoring either. I'd been here a dozen times for business meetings, negotiations, the occasional sit-down when things got tense and needed smoothing over.Never thought I'd be
JAMESONThe whiskey burned going down, which was the only goddamn thing going right today.I sat across from my grandfather in his study—my study, or at least it should've been by now—watching him swirl his own glass like he had all the time in the world. Brendan Connelly had always been a patient







