“Where the hell have you been?” Connor griped as Cian strolled into the private balcony at Banshee at midnight.

“Nice to see you too,” Cian muttered as he slid into the booth where his three brothers sat, and sank back into the cushions, exhausted.

“You look like shit,” Liam noted as he held his empty tumbler aloft and gestured for one of the waitresses to get him another.

“Thanks, nice to see you too,” Cian answered.

“Sharla!” Liam called out after the girl who was on her way to get his drink. “Grab the whole bottle and an extra glass for Cian.” She nodded and went on to the bar.

“We’ve been waiting for forty-five minutes,” Connor continued. “You left without taking anyone with you. What the hell is up?”

Cian sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes for a moment. “Nothing. There was a little dustup at one of the dispensaries—the one on Lake Street, an easy walk right here in the neighborhood. I thought it’d be nice to get a break, go outside. And yeah, get away from the guys for a few minutes—so sue me.”

Liam scowled. “I told you owning those medical MJ shops was going to be more headache than it was worth.”

“Sixty-seven million dollars,” Finn interjected. “Since the authorization passed the legislature, legal cannabis in Illinois has grossed sixty-seven million dollars. Those three little shops of ours made a three-hundred percent profit in the last eighteen months. It’s worth it.”

Liam flipped his younger brother off, and Finn just smirked and shook his head. The brawn and the brain of the family often tussled in wars of words, and Finn invariably won. Luckily, Liam might be rough, but he wasn’t cruel, and he loved Finn as much as he did Cian or Connor. Cian sometimes thought Liam said the things he did in part to give Finn the platform for demonstrating his intellect. Finn didn’t get a lot of attention from their father, nor was he particularly popular with the men. When Liam set him up to shine, Cian doubted it was by accident.

The waitress placed a large bottle of Connemara whiskey down on the table and handed Cian an empty tumbler with a look of sympathy. Sharla had been at the club long enough to know when Cian was having a rough night.

“So what’s the big emergency?” Cian asked as Liam poured him a generous amount of whiskey and pressed the bottle into his free hand.

Connor’s brow pulled down over his eyes, and Cian couldn’t help but remember that same look on his face when he was a tiny boy, running to get Cian’s help when Finn or Liam had teased him to the point he’d snapped. The ten years between them made Cian feel more like Connor’s father than his brother sometimes. He remembered every moment of the kid’s life—the good, the not so good, the completely ridiculous. Something in his chest lightened a touch when he thought about Connor and Jess somewhere far, far away—safe, happy, in love.

“Jess and her friends were at Club Destiny celebrating a birthday when Alejandro Vasquez showed up.”

Cian sat up straighter. “What?” he ground out.

Liam nodded. “I vote we head out there tonight when they aren’t expecting it, take four or five of the boys, and slam some heads together. Even if we don’t get to Vasquez himself, we’ll make an impression, show him he can’t come onto our turf and mess with our women without consequences.” As the family’s head enforcer, Liam enjoyed a good rousting whenever he could work one in.

Cian’s mind started turning, as it always did. “Did Vasquez touch her?”

Connor shook his head. “No. Finn was there and watched her until I came with Ricky and a couple of the other guys. They escorted Vasquez off the premises, and I made it clear to Jimmy McGuire that he’s not to let Vasquez in the door next time.”

“So Jess is okay?” Cian asked, taking a long swallow of his whiskey and relishing the way it burned all the way to his empty gut.

“For now,” Connor answered. “I left Ricky with her, and he’s sticking until we figure this out.”

“So you think Vasquez was just playing games?” Cian looked at Finn.

“Hard to say,” Finn answered. “He definitely knew who she was, didn’t approach her directly but made a point of chatting up some of her friends. He had a couple of his guys with him, and they kept a close watch on Jess and her party, but once they saw me, they stepped it back.”

“We have to do something,” Connor announced, looking each of his brothers in the eye one by one. “He’s gunning for me, and he’s going to use Jess to do it.”

“Exactly,” Liam agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s why we need to head out there tonight. Make a clear statement we won’t put up with this.”

“I’m not going to war with the Vasquez family over this,” Cian announced. “We have more than enough on our plates right now with these new web sales. We don’t need to be in a street fight on top of it all.”

“I don’t care about whether we go to war or not,” Connor interjected, “but I won’t have Jess harmed. Not when it’s my fault we’re here at all.”

Cian looked at Connor, one eyebrow raised. “It wasn’t your finest moment.”

Connor hung his head. “I know.”

“Hope Vasquez’s sister was a good lay, that’s all I can say,” Liam muttered.

Cian tipped his chin up at Finn across the table. “What do you think?” he asked. Cian had never felt the need for a consiglieri to consult with. His father still had his eye on the business, and with three younger brothers, Cian was always being scrutinized. But when he did want someone else to chime in, it was Finn he went to.

Finn MacFarlane was soft-spoken, thoughtful, sensitive, even in the midst of a brawling, testosterone-fueled pack of Irishmen. If analysis needed to be done, it was Finn who would do it. If a creative solution was sought, it was Finn who would provide it. And if anyone had a chance at making something of themselves outside the violent, gritty world the MacFarlane boys had grown up in, Finn was the one who did.

Finn cocked his head at Connor the way he always did when thinking about something, mulling it over in his oversized brain. “Why don’t you negotiate?” he asked.

“Negotiate what?” Connor asked. “We going to offer up Jess if he’ll stay out of our territory?” He scoffed in disgust.

Cian held up a hand to quiet Connor, his gaze never leaving Finn’s. “Continue.”

Finn gave him a small smile. “If we knew something that was useful to Vasquez, we could use it as a peace offering. Trade it for his promise that he’ll forgive Connor’s indiscretion. He’s been insulted, and he needs to have his pride assuaged. Once that happens, he’ll get over it and move on.”

“Ass-wayjed?” Liam snorted. “What does that even mean?”

“He needs to feel like he’s had a win after Connor embarrassed him,” Cian clarified.

“That’s all fine and good,” Connor added, “but we don’t have anything to trade.”

A smile spread across Cian’s face. “Actually, we do.”

“What’s that?” Even as he asked the question, Liam’s attention diverted to a waitress walking by whose short, tight skirt revealed the lacy tops of thigh-high stockings. His lips turned up in delight.

“Word is there’s a rat inside Vasquez’s organization, and the feds are going to nail Vasquez with the rat’s help.”

“How do you know these things?” Connor asked, shaking his head.

Cian shrugged. “Pop has a lot of contacts, even some inside the FBI.” Luckily for Cian, it was true, and he frequently had information that seemed to come out of thin air, so this tidbit fit right in with his typical patterns.

“Then go to Vasquez with it,” Finn said. “Suggest a deal. Make him promise he’ll let Connor off the hook.”

Cian mulled it over for a moment. He’d have to meet with Vasquez without the feds finding out. Not a simple task, but certainly not impossible. If it would get Vasquez off his brother’s ass and protect Jess, it was definitely worth it. In addition, if it queered the deal between the Vasquez rat and the feds, it might make Cian valuable to the FBI again, give him some more leverage than he currently had—which was next to none.

“Okay. But we need the meet-up to be absolutely confidential.”

“And how do we know one of the men he brings with him isn’t the FBI informant?” Connor asked.

Liam reached out and snagged the hand of the waitress he’d been eyeing, his attention lost once the details of a plan didn’t involve brawling or women.

Cian shrugged. “Only one way—neither one of us brings men.”

That got Liam’s attention, and he slapped the waitress on the ass to send her on her way.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” he growled.

“Hear me out,” Cian said, one eyebrow raised at his brute of a younger brother.

“I don’t need to,” Liam said. “There is no way you’re going into a meeting with Vasquez without guards. He won’t agree to it anyway, so it’s pointless to talk about.” He put his tumbler down with a little more force than was strictly necessary, looking pleased that he’d wrapped up the issue.

“He will agree,” Cian said simply. “He wants respect after Connor disrespected him so badly, but he doesn’t want a war any more than I do. Everyone knows the feds have been amping things up the last two years. No one wants to draw attention to things right now. A war would do just that. Vasquez is an asshole, but he’s not an idiot.”

Liam scowled and shook his head. “I can’t let you meet without backup. I won’t let you meet without backup.”

Cian’s eyes narrowed, and his voice grew soft but cold. “You think I can’t handle myself? As if you haven’t seen me do what’s necessary before? I’m in charge of this family. It’s my job to make sure the rest of you are taken care of. This will get Connor in the clear again, protect Jess, let the two of them finally relax. If you think I’m somehow not capable of doing my job here, you’d better say so now.”

Liam’s gaze on Cian was sharp, knowing. “I never said that. I know you can handle yourself.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Cian looked at Finn. “You set up the meeting. Explain we want to make things right after what Connor did. And make sure there’s no way the feds can trace either of us when it happens.”

Finn nodded. “Consider it done.”

Connor let out a long, slow breath. “You sure about this?

“Yeah. It has to be him and me, one on one. He’ll appreciate the fact that I’m the head of the family. It shows him more respect.” Cian put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, noticing the look of worry on his handsome face. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was safe. Finn’s instincts are right, Vasquez needs to feel like he got his due somehow. I doubt he cares a lot which way he gets it.”

At least that was what Cian hoped. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be around to get his brothers out of the family business, and that would be Cian’s greatest failure.

* * *

Lila nervously swiped at the screen of her tablet, as she sat alone at the long wood table. The back room of the old pub Robbie MacFarlane owned smelled of stale beer and peanuts, and she could hear the voices of the bartender and the waitress on the other side of the door. The pub itself was nearly empty. A few older Irishmen had been playing dominoes when she’d walked in, and what looked to be a commodities broker of some sort was drowning his sorrows in the corner.

Most of the coordination for the Rogue-MacFarlane project had been done by her and Finn, so she’d only met with Cian a total of three times, and she hoped she’d answered or anticipated all his concerns. He made her uncomfortable—in good and bad ways. He was dangerous, she knew—she’d asked around. But he was also smart, straightforward, and seemingly a very savvy businessman. While part of her was afraid of what he’d do if she failed in her assignment, another part didn’t want to disappoint him. It was a confusing mixture of feelings and one Lila was unused to.

The door to the room swung open, and in strode the man himself. He wore his usual dark colors, but dressier than the last few times she’d seen him—his suit was obviously custom cut, and his high-thread-count dress shirt was snowy white. As he entered, he shot his cuffs, rolling his powerful shoulders and giving her a glimpse of polished platinum cuff links. As she stood to greet him in her black wool jumper dress, black wool knee-high stockings, and red-and-black Mary Janes, Lila felt like a little girl in comparison.

“Lila from Rogue,” Cian said, his voice like velvet, sending shivers down her spine. “You’re early.” He grinned, and her heart raced.

She narrowed her eyes, pressing her lips together, hoping he couldn’t tell how discombobulated he made her feel.

“I take my work very seriously, Mr. MacFarlane,” she answered.

“I’ve never doubted it,” he said, also serious. He gestured for her to retake her seat, then chose the one next to her, rotating his chair so he could look at her full on. She fussed with her tablet screen, unable to meet his gaze.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he told her softly. “My father only cares that the job gets done. He’ll not understand any of the details, and my brother Finn says you’ve done an excellent job preparing the systems.”

She nodded, finally looking at him, but then away again just as quickly.

“I’m not nervous,” she lied.

He rested one arm on the table, leaning into her space, his head tipping toward her in an intimate gesture.

“I’ve missed our coffee dates,” he said, his voice gravelly and deep. Lila felt everything inside her become heated and pliable.

“They were business meetings, not dates,” she corrected primly.

“Call them what you will, I enjoyed them. Much more than any other business meeting I’ve had.”

She couldn’t help the smile that snuck across her face then, along with the blush she felt heat her cheeks. Cian chuckled softly but pulled back, turning his chair to the table as the door opened and several other men entered.

Lila looked up to see an older man with white hair followed by two younger men and Xavier. She could have picked out the MacFarlane patriarch in a crowded room. He was somewhat rough, but wore authority like a second skin, every mannerism dripping with the assumption that his orders would be followed. He was shorter than Cian, but she could see the resemblance immediately. Robbie MacFarlane still cut a powerful figure, his physique solid, his blue eyes sharp, his clothing casual but immaculate.

Behind him was a much younger man, very like Cian in appearance, but with darker eyes and a certain lightness to his demeanor that Lila doubted Cian had ever worn. The final MacFarlane brother, Finn, was thinner than Cian and an inch or two shorter as well. His hair was in need of a trim, but beneath the floppy bangs were eyes the most beautiful shade of green Lila had ever seen.

Cian stood as the men worked their way into the room and selected seats at the table. Only when his father had sat did Cian sit back down as well.

“Pop,” he began. “I’d like to introduce you to the Rogue staff member who will be presenting the system to us. This is Lila Rodriguez. Lila, this is my father”—he gestured toward the silver fox—“and my brother Connor”—the one with darker eyes. “You know Finn, of course.”

Lila smiled and nodded to the head of the table on her left. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. MacFarlane.”

He gave her a charming smile and an extra dose of Irish brogue. “They make computer geeks much prettier than they did in my day,” he joked, but his blue eyes were cold, and a frisson of discomfort crawled down her spine as he reached out and patted her hand where it lay on the table.

She heard Cian clear his throat on her other side, and then Connor was leaning over the table from where he sat on his father’s other side. He extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila,” he said. She shook his hand while Finn gave her a sweet smile and a nod of his head.

“So,” Robbie said, turning his attention to his eldest son. “Let’s see how you’re going to earn the family more money.”

Lila felt Cian stiffen beside her, but she kept her gaze forward. She’d dealt with enough alpha businessmen in her line of work to understand Robbie was going to be a jerk now. From what Xavier had told her, Robbie had a heart condition that had necessitated his retirement. Cian was officially in charge of the family business, but Robbie was the man behind the curtain, keeping tabs, manipulating events, and still very much the source of approval that any new undertaking would require.

But it wasn’t Cian who answered Robbie. It was Finn.

“I can tell you how it’s all going to work, Pop,” he said, leaning into the table.

Robbie raised a brow, his head swiveling slowly toward Finn’s side of the table.

“Finn has managed all this,” Cian said quickly. “He developed the shipping methods, and he’s met several times with Lila and Xavier about technical details I don’t understand.”

Finn continued to look at their father, his face calm and determined. Lila could feel the tension in the room, and watched as Robbie leaned back in his chair, his barrel chest expanding as he took a long, slow breath.

Across from her, Connor’s gaze was pinned to the tabletop. At the opposite end from Robbie, Xavier was otherwise engaged with his phone, obviously leaving Lila to dangle along with Finn.

“So, let’s hear it,” Robbie finally said, and the room gave a collective sigh of relief.

Finn launched into an explanation of the internet sales, with asides from Lila regarding technical security measures. Cian and Connor chimed in with details about the packaging and distribution.

When they were done, Robbie looked at Cian. “You really think this’ll work?”

Cian nodded slowly. “I trust Finn’s judgment.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Robbie fired back.

Cian’s gaze checked left to Lila, and she gave him a sympathetic smile. His father’s disdain for Finn was obvious.

“It’ll work,” Cian answered evenly. “And it’ll earn. A lot.”

Xavier finally piped up from the far end of the table. “We sell body parts on the internet,” he said. “This is simple by comparison. As long as your people handle the packaging right, this will work.”

“It’s certainly in your best interest that it does,” Robbie shot back. “You’re getting a hell of a cut.”

Xavier leaned forward, his eyes pinned to the older mobster. “If you’re not earning six figures a month in the first three months, I’ll cut my percentage in half. How’s that?”

Robbie smirked. “Big words from a small man.”

Xavier gave him a cold smile. “I know my business, Mr. MacFarlane. This will work, and it will earn. We’ll both get very rich from the arrangement.”

Robbie gave one sharp nod, then stood abruptly. “All right, then. Do it. Cian, you watch this one personally. I come to you with questions, I want you to have the answers.” Then he turned to Finn. “This goes south, it’s on you, understand? And I can tell you right now, they’d have you for lunch at Menard.” He chuckled darkly, the mention of the state’s largest maximum-security prison turning Lila’s gut cold.

“I’ll handle it all, Pop,” Cian interjected before his eyes met Finn’s across the table. “I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know about it.”

Finn didn’t respond, leaning back in his seat and seeming to shut down after having presented the entire project in great detail.

Before he turned to leave the room, Robbie gave Lila another of his charming smiles and lifted her hand as though he was going to kiss it. “Lovely meeting you,” he said. “You make sure to let me know if my boys don’t treat you right.” Her skin crawled, but she gave him a weak smile in response, and then he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

“Holy shit,” Connor breathed as he laid his head down on the table.

Finn smiled. “It wasn’t so bad. He didn’t throw anything.”

“Or punch anyone,” Cian added darkly.

“I have to be somewhere,” Xavier said, as though no one else in the room had spoken. “Lila, after you wrap this up, can you check on the backup servers? I don’t have time today.”

“Sure thing,” she answered.

Xavier left, his head down, still frantically tapping at his screen. Even for him, he’d been weird and rude, and Lila wondered what he was working on or what had gone wrong at Rogue.

She turned to find all three MacFarlane men looking at her. It was disconcerting. They were all very attractive, but at least two of them were also dangerous as hell. She doubted Finn would harm a fly, although his intellect was dangerous in its own way.

“So, do you have any more questions?” she asked, looking around at each man one at a time.

“You did great,” Finn said kindly. “I think we’re ready to go as soon as we have a couple of practice runs with the packaging and the dogs we’re borrowing.”

“You’re borrowing dogs?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Connor said, his eyes alight with excitement. “A friend of the family has access to a couple of retired drug dogs. We’re going to run the packages by them, see what they can find.”

Cian chuckled, his laugh gentle and rich. Lila fought the urge to lean into him. “Connor wants one of those dogs for a pet. He’s got a serious hard-on for German shepherds.”

“They’re amazing, man. Have you seen some of the things they can be trained to do?” Connor asked. “I’d get one to bring me beers when I was watching a game, and maybe hide Jess’s underwear so she couldn’t get dressed when she was at my place.”

Finn snorted. “As if you’ll ever get Jess naked at your place again in this century.”

“Okay!” Cian’s voice was firm. “That’s enough. We have company, and business to wrap up.”

Connor had the decency to flush. “Sorry, Lila,” he said, smiling sweetly.

“It’s fine,” she answered, not able to help grinning at Cian’s younger, lighter double. “I can see the appeal of the dogs.” She winked at him.

Cian did his throat-clearing thing again, and Connor stopped smiling and sat up straighter, his brows drawing down.

The next few minutes were spent wrapping up. Lila gathered her belongings and said her goodbyes before heading out to the front of the pub.

Things had changed since she’d gone into the meeting. The place had filled up with an eclectic mix of older neighborhood types and young men who looked like they were in the MacFarlane business—big guys, gun holsters apparent on some of them. Irish accents were scattered throughout the voices around the room.

She ignored some of the appraising looks she got as she made her way through the room and exited, turning the corner around the side of the building once she was outside, heading to the parking lot off the back alley.

It was a chilly night, and Lila’s breath misted in the air. Though she’d spent her whole life in Chicago, she’d never been a big fan of cold wind. She pulled her scarf closer around her neck, shivering lightly in the damp night. As she got to her little Nissan Leaf, she had to dig through her bag for the keys, cursing herself silently for being so nervous when she’d arrived that she hadn’t put them in the usual pocket.

She heard him only a split second before his arms closed around her, one across her chest, pinning her arms to her sides, and the other around her throat, cutting off the air she so desperately needed.

Lila kicked and thrashed, jamming her heel into his shin and stomping on his foot a couple of times, but he was much bigger than her, and she knew, as she gasped frantically for breath and clawed at his arm around her neck, she wasn’t going to win.

“Shh, baby,” an accented voice hissed in her ear. “Don’t fight me, and it’ll go a lot easier for you.”

She stilled, her heart pumping at ten times its normal rate.

“You be a good girl for Ramon, and I’ll make sure they lube up before they pull the train on you.”

Lila panicked, thrashing wildly, making pitiful squealing noises with the little air she could pass through her constricted windpipe. But the man only squeezed harder, and she saw stars on the edges of her vision as everything went darker and her throat began to close completely. Then a new voice came from behind her, and the click of a gun being readied.

“Take your hands off her.” She recognized Cian’s voice, but it carried a deadly quality she’d never heard before. He spoke softly and carefully, but menace laced every word.

Her attacker loosened his hold.

“I said, now,” Cian emphasized.

Then the man released her completely, and Lila slumped against her car in front of her, gasping for air, shaking like there was an earthquake rolling through her.

Behind her, she heard Cian giving instructions to her attacker. “On the ground. Facedown. Hands behind your head.” His voice was like ice, and she heard the other man swearing in Spanish.

“Que te jodan, hijo de puta irlandés.”

Lila’s father hadn’t spoken a lot of Spanish to her growing up, but even if she hadn’t understood her attacker, she’d have gotten the gist of what he was saying from the harsh tone in his voice. She heard the man grunt as something struck him, and finally turned to see Cian standing in his expensive suit, one foot pressed on the other man’s neck, a cell phone in one hand and a gun in the other.

“Out back, now,” he barked into the phone. He slid the device back into his pants pocket, then looked up at Lila. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a touch gentler.

She nodded, but when she tried to speak, she coughed, and only a rasp came out. “I think so.”

Cian’s brow drew down farther when he heard her. “Pull down your scarf,” he commanded. She didn’t even think before she followed his instructions. His expression went from cold to red-hot anger as he looked at her neck. He dropped to his knees, planting one firmly in the man’s back, digging the gun into his head. The man hissed out another profanity.

“Things just got a lot worse for you, my friend,” Cian snarled. “Vasquez send you?”

“Fuck you,” he spat in English.

The back door to the pub slammed open and Connor and two other men came jogging across the parking lot, guns drawn. Finn followed a minute later, talking rapidly on the phone to someone named Liam. Lila vaguely remembered Liam as the fourth MacFarlane brother.

“What the hell happened?” Connor said as he reached Lila and Cian.

Cian gestured for the other two men to deal with the attacker, then stood. “Looks like Vasquez sent a greeter. He grabbed Lila.”

Connor turned to Lila where she was still being partially propped up by her car. He looked ill, his face a mask of horror. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t understand why he seemed to be taking it so hard. It was obvious the attacker was tied to the MacFarlanes somehow, but that didn’t make Connor personally responsible.

“It’s okay,” Lila rasped. “I’m all right.”

Connor’s eyes grew wide as she spoke, and his hand shot out to her throat. He stopped shy of touching her, but fury crawled across his face, and then he turned abruptly, stepping toward her assailant.

Cian stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Not here,” he said, leaning in. “Why don’t you and the boys take Ramon here on a ride for a couple of hours. I’ll meet you back at the club.”

Connor nodded and pointed to the two men holding the attacker by both arms, then toward the other cars in the lot, indicating they should load him into a nearby SUV.

“Liam’s on his way,” Finn said, giving Cian a stern look. “He said you don’t move from here until he gets here with more guys.”

Connor spun to look at Cian. “What the hell were you doing out here by yourself, anyway?” he asked as the other men took the struggling captive away. Someone had produced handcuffs, so the man was partially disabled, and when they got him to the car, Lila saw one of the MacFarlane men pull a zip tie out of his pocket before looping it around the prisoner’s ankles.

Cian rolled his shoulders as if sloughing off the previous ten minutes. “It wasn’t me who was attacked,” he said calmly.

Connor and Finn automatically closed in, keeping their backs to the wall alongside the parking lot, their eyes scanning the lot, but placing themselves between Cian and Lila and the drive aisle.

“Doesn’t matter. I assumed you’d be leaving with the same security detail you came in with, but now you’re out here alone, and the boys said you told them to have the night off, enjoy a drink.”

Cian shrugged. “I was just going home. I didn’t need babysitters for that.”

Finn crossed his arms and scowled at Cian. “I’m with Connor and Liam on this one. You’re the head of the family now. You can’t go anywhere by yourself. Look what almost happened.” He glanced at Lila. “And it wouldn’t have only been your head.”

As if the remark had reminded Cian of Lila’s presence, he turned to her, his hand drifting to her throat. She held as still as if she were a bunny in the sights of a falcon. He gently stroked the bruised skin with one finger.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “They’ve obviously seen you with us before and were waiting to grab you. This is our fault.”

Lila swallowed and cleared her throat as his hand fell away. “It all turned out okay,” she said, her voice more normal now that she’d had a few minutes of air to breathe. “I knew when I took this job it was dangerous. I think I just need to get up to speed, figure out how to protect myself. I’m not used to having to think about it.”

Cian’s gaze snapped to Connor. “I want a man with her twenty-four seven until we get this Vasquez thing resolved.”

“I don’t need—”

He glared at her. “Yes. You do. It’s not open to discussion. If I have to get Xavier to insist on it as part of your job requirements, I will.”

She stared at him. In all her years of dealing with sexist computer nerds, she’d never had a man try to control her like this.

She snorted, turning and digging through her purse for her keys. “I’ll let you know,” she said. “Right now, I just want to go home and get some hot tea on my throat.”

She heard Cian murmur some instructions to his brothers, then feet moving away. She finally found the damn keys and dug them from the bottom of her bag, punching the key fob to unlock the doors. She’d never leave someplace at night without her keys in hand again. Lesson learned.

“Lila from Rogue.” Cian’s voice was soft as he leaned against the side of her car, his arm resting along the doorframe so she couldn’t open it. “I know your job hasn’t ever put you in this kind of situation. I may be a MacFarlane, but I’m not blind. What you do is illegal, but it’s never put you in this world. This world isn’t virtual. It’s very real and very dangerous.”

She couldn’t look at him right then, her reserves of adrenaline were fading fast. She just wanted to get away from him, go home, break down on her own time, in her own way.

“You need protection.” His tone left no room for negotiation, but Lila wasn’t the type to accept what she was told to do. She would never have become a hacker if that had been the case.

“I can protect myself.” She turned to face him, arms crossed in defiance. She’d lasted all those years with her father. He’d been a responsible addict, but all the same, gambling was a dark and gritty world. She’d made it out. She could handle this herself, like she did everything in her life.

He smiled sadly. “From men twice your size with guns?”

“I’ll get my own gun.”

He sighed, his eyes dark. His gaze turned to something almost tender, and he leaned toward her so that for a brief moment, she thought he might try to kiss her. And honestly, she didn’t know what she would do if he tried.

Then he pulled back, his voice changing to a firm tone.

“You’ll get a gun, I’ll teach you how to use it, and then you’ll learn self-defense. How to fight. Even at your size, you can hold a guy off long enough to scream for help. If you won’t take a guard, then at least you’ll be better prepared if anything like this happens again.”

She wondered how in the world he’d find time to run an organized crime syndicate and still give her shooting lessons, but she shrugged. “Fine, I’ll let you know when I have the gun, and I’ll sign up for one of those self-defense courses at the Y.”

Cian snorted. “I’ll have a gun delivered to you tomorrow morning, and you’ll learn self-defense from me at the gym my brothers and I fight at.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shot off a text. “I’ll have someone here to drive you home in just a few minutes.”

Lila felt her exhaustion morphing to dismay.

“Look, I realize you’re used to having everyone follow your orders, but beyond our joint project, I’m not your employee. You can’t just…” she sputtered for a moment, “make me do things!”

Cian’s fingers were warm on her jaw as he forced her to look at him. She’d never known a man who would just touch a woman like that. In the law-abiding world, it would be sexual harassment. In the geek criminal world, the only touching would be done via computer.

And maybe it was that shock, the dismay and surprise, that caused her to stand still, allowing him to hold her jaw between his powerful fingertips. Whatever the reason, Lila didn’t move as Cian gazed at her, his expression deadly serious.

“I am used to people following my instructions. And do you know why they do?”

Lila swallowed uneasily. Now was when he was going to tell her something about concrete shoes and Lake Michigan. She was certain of it.

“Because it’s how they stay safe,” he finished. “I don’t know why you chose the life you have, but it’s time you realized it’s dangerous. I’ve never known anything else. I was raised to do what I do. It’s in my blood, my DNA.” He blinked once, and she saw deep sorrow there for a split second. “I’ve never had a choice. The good thing about that is I’m an expert. I know how to stay safe. How to stay out of jail. How to stay alive.” He smiled briefly and released his grasp on her face. “Now you get to benefit from all my knowledge.”

Lila thought about the differences between Cian’s life and hers. She’d spent so much of her life operating on the wrong side of the law in cyberspace—starting as a teen to gain her father’s attention, continuing on for a brief stint in college to impress professors, then realizing she could earn more as a black hat hacker than she ever could going legit, and deciding to do it to please herself instead of anyone else. Through all of it, she’d considered herself a bit of a badass. She liked the little thrill of being a criminal. She imagined it was what her father felt when he gambled, and as much as she didn’t like to admit it, she still yearned to connect with him somehow.

But she was quickly coming to realize that in all those years, she’d never lived like Cian MacFarlane. Her father’s gambling was child’s play compared to what Cian had seen every day. Her dark web jobs were the tip of the blackmarket iceberg, and Cian lived on the ocean floor. His world was full of guns and blood, men who’d “pull a train” on a woman, and drugs that weren’t simply units stored on a server, but crates stored in a warehouse. He’d killed. She knew it. And it crushed her to realize the truth. Lila was a child playing pretend. Cian was the real deal.

A set of headlights pulled up a few parking spaces away, and Lila saw Connor and Finn get out of the SUV they must have been waiting in. They went and spoke to the occupants of the new vehicle, then Connor waved to Cian.

“Your ride is here,” he said matter-of-factly. “Give me your keys, and I’ll have your car brought to you in a bit. One of my guys will stay outside your place tonight, and I’ll be by first thing in the morning—my idea of morning, not yours.”

Lila’s skin prickled with something. Awareness? Fear? Acceptance? Whatever it was, she knew it was major. The feeling had started the minute she heard about this assignment, and it had grown exponentially every time she saw Cian MacFarlane. As she obediently trudged to the waiting sedan and climbed into the backseat behind two big Irish mob goons after handing her car keys to Cian, she knew nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

* * *

By nine a.m. the next morning, Cian had spent an hour training Lila how to kickbox. She’d impressed him, her lithe frame moving with ease through the maneuvers he taught her. She’d been wary, of course, and sullen when he picked her up at her row house in the Logan Square neighborhood. But once he’d gotten her in the ring and begun showing her some basic moves, she’d approached it with the same quiet determination she’d shown in her work.

He’d tried not to notice the way her breasts looked in the thin tank top she’d worn, nor how delicate her bones were when she kicked those long legs out. But more than that, he’d worked to ignore how her dark eyes focused on his face when he talked to her. The quiet way she asked the smartest questions he’d ever heard. The serious demeanor she adopted as she watched Liam demonstrate the right way to punch.

Lila Rodriguez continued to fascinate him, and Cian continued to actively ignore that fact with everything he had.

“Where are we going?” she asked yet again as he bundled her into the back of a car and Danny started up the engine.

He narrowed his eyes as he pointed to her seat belt, indicating she needed to put it on. She huffed out a breath in exasperation and did as he directed.

“Is there another word you want me to use for 'shooting range'?” he asked sarcastically.

He saw the tension in her jaw.

“Maybe I have more important things to do.”

“Nothing’s more important than learning how to protect yourself from guys like that one last night,” he countered.

She was stubborn, little Lila. Cian had had her checked out, of course—the daughter of a Korean-American schoolteacher and a Puerto Rican cardsharp, Lila had come by her risk-taking proclivities honestly. While her mother had been the stable provider, her father had been the one who lived to outsmart the opposition, just as Lila did as a hacker.

But even with her father’s less than savory ways, her parents had been married Lila’s whole life, and her father seemed to be well skilled at taking risks without actually risking what mattered. They owned a home and two cars. He’d always managed to pay his gambling debts, never been in jail, and somehow managed to cheat others out of their money and wind up friends with them at the end of the night.

Meanwhile, Mr. Rodriguez’s tiny daughter was turning Cian’s entire day upside down.

“You want me to get her set up on the range?” Danny asked as he held the door open for Cian and Lila to exit the car.

Cian knew he ought to just let Danny take care of it. His main guard was perfectly capable of teaching Lila to use a firearm. It would give him a chance to check in on how the interrogation of Vasquez’s soldier was going and make some plans for what to do next.

But he’d be damned if anyone else was going to spend that time with her—showing Lila how to load the gun, hold the gun, shoot the gun. Cian was certain if Lila was playing with guns, it ought to be his gun she was playing with. He cleared his throat when he realized where those thoughts had taken him.

“No, it’s okay,” he told Danny. “You can set up on one of the other targets if you want to get some practice in. Or take a break, whatever. I’ve got this.”

Danny looked at him with an amused expression, then nodded before walking them inside.

Once they’d secured a private lane, Cian opened up the duffel bag he’d brought and pulled out the Glock 26 he’d chosen for her.

He held the gun out, and she gingerly lifted it, holding it in both hands, barrel pointed at the floor.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not loaded.”

She didn’t look convinced, and he smiled. “It’s called a Baby Glock because of the smaller size. It should fit your hand better than a full-sized gun and has less recoil. But it’s a nine-millimeter, and it’ll take down anyone you need it to.”

She grimaced and turned it over in her hand, looking at the dull black surface and textured handle.

“It loads with a clip.” He pulled one out of the bag and showed her how it snapped into the handle. “And all the safeties are built in, so you don’t need to worry about disengaging anything or about it going off accidentally in a purse or something.”

“So, there’s not an off switch?” Her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline.

“There is, but the gun sets it for you.”

She looked skeptical.

“Here, let me show you.” He explained the safety action of the gun, how each component engaged and disengaged as the trigger was pulled and then popped back into place.

“But what if the trigger gets bumped by something in my bag, or jolted by a bump when I’m driving?”

“Come here,” he said, holding the pistol out in front of him. He beckoned her to stand slightly in front of him and stepped behind her. “Take the gun.” She did. “Hold it out in front of you. Look along the top of the barrel and on to the target. Got it?” She nodded. “Now pull the trigger.”

There were a few seconds of silence, as Lila pressed her finger against the trigger. Nothing happened.

“Harder,” he said as he leaned down and put his lips to her ear.

The gun fired, and Lila squeaked, taking a small step back and landing against Cian’s chest. “Oh my God,” she muttered as he chuckled.

“Okay,” she conceded. “So it takes a lot to pull the trigger.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling as she turned to look at him. “It’s somewhere in the neighborhood of five pounds of pull weight to fire it. Not so much you can’t do it fast and accurately, but not so little you’re going to set it off resting your finger on it or having something bump it in your bag.”

She looked at him that same way she had earlier when he’d been teaching her self-defense tactics. Dark eyes, serious expression, mysterious things that swirled beneath the surface. She moved him in some way. He didn’t know why or how, but she did, and the fact was, he had no room in his life for someone who moved him.

He took a deep breath and stepped back, then gently pulled the pistol from her grip. “Now,” he said. “Let’s teach you how to really use this thing.”