12. Chapter 9 - Hillary
“ W hat do you have for me?”
Blackbird’s brilliant blue hair was a stark contrast against the dark room, even with the backlit computer screen. Her cherubic face widened into a devious grin. “This next batch is hella interesting.”
Blackbird had been working with me for three years. In the four years I had been working on my little side project, she was the best hacker I’d hired by a mile, so I’d put her on my permanent payroll.
Of course, before handing someone the keys to my most private business dealings, I had done some investigative work o f my own. When she came up squeaky clean—well, other than her highly illegal hacking activities—I invited her to work for me exclusively. She was worth her weight in gold—which, honestly, wasn’t saying much since she wasn’t even five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet.
“Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow at the screen as I sat in front of the bank of monitors in my private den. “Do tell.”
“Sending the files over now.” She bit her lips in concentration as she sent through a standard packet of information using our secure servers.
“Care to give me a quick synopsis?” I asked. This was her favorite part of our monthly meet up. The private gossip in these files was unparalleled. Since neither of us could share it with anyone else…
She rubbed her hands together with another shark-like smile.
“So, Kellan, as you requested, is in town on an official investigation for the FBI—something about an international fraud organization. His FBI phone records don’t show a whole lot, but his private number has been in contact with the twins and Antonio more than usual in the past two months. His GPS also shows that he’s been out a lot at night— late at night—down in the Crocks.”
This report disappointed me, but I was unsurprised. It was hard to keep tabs on a man like Kellan; his security rivaled mine on the best of days. There was nothing particularly new there, other than a continued relationship with his demon brothers, and the unleashing of his own demons on a few petty criminals.
If Antonio was pulling more strings than usual, I’d have to watch Kellan’s back. He was careful on his tightrope, but it didn’t hurt to have an extra spotter. Even if he was currently at the top of my shit list.
“Aaron recently purchased a massive warehouse at the edge of the Crocks—one that was abandoned years ago. He bought it through a shell corporation that’s owned by another shell corporation, which is solely owned by Aaron Rodriguez himself. He left quite a complicated paper trail for this one, so I’m guessing he doesn’t want anyone to know about it. Or why.”
She cleared her throat and continued.
“One of my sources said there are whispers that Veronica and Vicente are moving into new underground territory, but no word on whose authority—keep your eye on this one. Alvarez is gaining traction through the dark web, and I’m seeing his stuff everywhere.”
I let out a long breath through my nose and steepled my fingers in contemplation. That Alvarez was making headway wasn’t a shock. It was a terrible oversight on my part that it had taken this long for me to see how quickly he was moving into our territory, no longer a ‘devil-from-afar’ that was of no consequence.
I hated Antonio and the Carlos Cartel, least of all for the hell his son had put my friends in my hometown through years ago, but he was the devil I knew, the devil I was planning for. Aaron’s sex clubs paid enough of a tithe that the truly depraved side of the flesh economy didn’t pay well here.
I was foolish enough to think the reprieve could last in a greedy world of the powerless and powerful. Kellan had admitted he had a part in that, and while I loathed he kept me in his sights but couldn’t bother to call, I knew with certainty I could trust him.
I wanted to trust Aaron now, like I could when we were children. Granted, trusting him would mean I wasn’t using my underground sources to investigate him and just take him at his word, but I was finding it hard to do that.
I’d had to make a choice, many years ago, about who I would stand for. I had risked the wrath of Camden and chose myself. Aaron pretended to be in control of his empire , but he was a pretty mouthpiece for his parents. This merger was meant to get him out from under the Vs influence, and they were clinging to him like vicious little spider monkeys. It was time for his choice.
Regardless, I would need to make tactical moves against Alvarez, and quickly. First, I would need to know which player mattered more—Marco, Daniel, or Diego. We were all pawns in our parents’ pockets, and it would shock me if Alejandro didn’t have his sons running the day-to-day dirt. Drugs and weapons were someone else’s problem—let Kellan take on those battles. I could only give myself to the girls.
It wouldn’t take long before the pervasive claws of darkness overtook everything in its path, and I’d sold my soul one too many times to have another power-hungry asshole bulldoze my sanctuary of safety.
Blackbird, completely unaware of my inner turmoil, continued.
“A woman has been visiting your father for a few weeks now—every Sunday evening. He met her online. His profile states that he has agoraphobia. I’ll spare you from the details of what they’ve been up to.”
The snort escaped before I could stop it. Trust Camden Lane to pretend to have a debilitating fear of leaving his home to get the sympathy card and his dick wet, rather than owning up to being under house arrest for the rest of his life. You couldn’t make this shit up.
“But you want to hear the juiciest part?”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Yes. Out with it.”
“Okay, so Lauchlan O’Donnell.” She paused dramatically, which meant it truly was a juicy piece of information. “Lauchlan O’Donnell is an enigma. He has a very legitimate online profile, but it's all fake. Fake phone records, fake birth certificate. The Lauchlan you know doesn’t exist.
“ But, using facial recognition software, there is an Irish man matching eighty percent of the mystery man’s facial features, which suggests a family member. His name is Liam Donovan. The obituary was in the Connacht Tribune last May.
“What’s interesting is that Liam was featured in a European expose after his death. Apparently, he was one of the most successful, uncaptured con artists of his time. And he had an unnamed heir—a son in his late-twenties. Sound familiar?”
Huh. So Lucky O’Donnell—definitely not his real name—came from a family of Irish con artists, had just moved to America, and had suddenly taken an interest in me, one of the wealthiest women in the country.
How coincidental.
Was I naturally suspicious of anyone trying to get into my skirt? Undeniably, it wasn’t the first time I had put my hacker on a digital recon mission to check out my men of the hour, and it wouldn’t be the last—but with my security, training, and my need for a great orgasm, it wasn’t something I spent much mental energy on.
Being rich and successful made me a target. For overenthusiastic affection, or vitriol. It just depended on the day and the flavor of the week. This news was surprising, surely, but not shocking.
Lucky intrigued me in a way most men didn’t. You could read most people’s motivations within the first five minutes of meeting them. For men in my circles, their readings were very predictable: power, wealth, dominance, control. Usually, a combination of the four. Lucky was evidently playing me, but I had read none of those motivations in his words and actions.
What was his end goal?
Anger was probably the appropriate emotion to be feeling, but the fluttering tingle of excitement in my belly overro de any sense of indignance. It had been a while since I’d played a proper game of chance.
If Lucky thought I was his prey, he was sorely mistaken. It was time for the hunter to become the hunted.
I caught the time on my monitor—Marty would be here any minute with our afternoon schedule.
“Great work, Blackbird. I’ll send your next batch of tasks at the first of the week.”
“Thanks, boss.” She smirked her apple cheeks and the blue screen went black.
I stood, smoothed my skirt, and locked up my fortress. With an extra bounce in my step, I walked down the hallway to brew a fresh cortado.
I loved games. And Lucky was about to learn just h ow much.