Chapter Nineteen #2
Liam nodded. “Charlotte Finch used to be a cop. She was a bright shining star of the NYPD and moving up the ranks pretty damn quickly—until she was accused of being a dirty cop and thrown off the force. There wasn’t an official trial for some reason, but right after that she disappeared.
Two years later, Charlie Moreaux shows up in this shitty little bar in New York City, running high-stakes poker in the back room. ”
“ Was she dirty?” If she was, it would have broken her dear father’s heart—and she’d be useless to him, because John Finch seemed the type to cut ties if he thought his daughter was on the wrong side of the law.
Aiden flipped through the file Liam handed him, raising his brows at the list of her accomplishments.
She hadn’t just been a cop—she’d been a good cop.
Beneath that sheet was a short report about her time in the academy.
Good grades, one hell of a shot, and adored by both her instructors and peers.
Must have been quite the kick in the teeth to have them turn on you at the flip of a coin.
“She’s not dirty.” Liam hesitated. “Though I can’t be sure without more info. But if I were a betting man, I’d say that Charlotte stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have and paid the price. Her former partner got a promotion. And there’s this.” He passed over a photo.
Aiden studied the two men. One he knew far better than he’d like to. Dark hair, lean build, predatory gaze—Romanov. The other…“This is her partner?”
“Yeah.”
Which meant it was possible—probable even—that Romanov had some of New York’s finest on his payroll and, when the starry-eyed golden girl had found out and refused to fall in line, he’d had her discredited.
It’s what Aiden would have done.
Killing cops was bad for business. It was easier to have the ones who wouldn’t take bribes framed and removed, since there was little that honorable cops hated more than finding out one of their own was dirty.
No one would believe what a dirty cop said, and no one was going to be forming a posse to avenge them.
It was a nice bloodless way to tie up loose ends.
I bet John Finch just loved that shit . “She still have contact with her father?”
“Hard to say. He spoke out in her defense at first, but after she left the force, he shut the hell up.”
Aiden considered what he knew of John Finch.
It was quite a bit these days. The man was from a long line of cops who firmly believed that the ends justified the means.
He hadn’t flinched at using Teague to further his investigation, and gave no regard to what the O’Malleys—or Sheridans or Hallorans, for that matter—would do to him if they found out he was a rat.
They would have killed his brother—worse than killed him.
And John Finch would have just kept on living, doing what he did best—turning people against their friends and families.
Part of him still couldn’t believe that his little brother was a fucking informant to the feds.
The O’Malleys did a lot of terrible things, but they held family above all others. To betray family…
He hadn’t confronted Teague yet. He didn’t trust himself to even see his brother’s face without losing control.
If Teague was still just his brother, it wouldn’t have been an issue.
But he wasn’t just Teague O’Malley anymore.
He was married to the head of the Sheridan family, which made any interaction Aiden had with him a potential political incident.
They’d barely avoided a war up to this point, and he wasn’t going to be the reason that changed.
But he was only holding off the inevitable and he knew it. Eventually he was going to have to see his brother face-to-face and tell him exactly what Aiden knew.
Anger tried to choke him, but he fought it, focusing on the man he could make pay. John Finch. If he simply removed the fed, another would take his place. No, Aiden needed leverage to get Finch to back the hell off of his own free will.
Aiden had no illusions about what kind of man he was. He’d do unforgivable things to uphold his family’s power and keep those closest to him safe. He had done unforgivable things.
He was about to add one more to the list. “Let’s go meet this Charlie Moreaux.”
Approaching her on her own territory was a mistake.
Even with Liam at his back, she would have home-court advantage.
So they took up a spot just outside the door and waited.
They’d timed their arrival to coincide with last call, and sure enough it didn’t take long before a scattering of people filed out of the bar, some weaving on their feet.
Fifteen minutes later, a woman exited alone.
Aiden didn’t need Liam’s nudge to know that this was Charlie Moreaux, formerly Charlotte Finch.
Despite her white blond hair, painted-on jeans, and downright sinful good looks, her blue eyes were a cop’s.
She stopped when she saw them, taking both him and Liam in, in an instant.
“If you’re looking for trouble, you’ve got the wrong woman. ”
She shifted, and his gaze flicked to her right hand. “I suggest you don’t pull that gun on me, bright eyes.”
Charlotte frowned. “Who the hell are you?”
He weighed his odds of telling her the truth, and decided it was in his best interest to start things out correctly. “Aiden O’Malley. A pleasure.”
“Wish I could say the same.” She narrowed those gorgeous blue eyes. “I know that name…Isn’t New York a bit of a jaunt from Boston? I wonder what Romanov thinks of your trespassing.”
If he’d had any question about who she blamed for her downfall, the answer was in the way she practically spat the Russian’s name. Perfect . His initial plan had changed the second Liam had mentioned her potential connection to Romanov—now, a new plan solidified. Two birds, one stone .
He kept his hands at his side, doing his best to be nonthreatening, and went in for the kill. “Dmitri Romanov is no friend of mine, and with your help I can bring him down.”
She snorted. “I’ve heard that one before.”
“Maybe other men have promised. I can deliver.”
She cocked her head to the side, her long hair spilling over one shoulder.
The sheer lack of pigment in her hair drew his attention to her blood red lips.
While she considered him, he returned the favor, taking in her fitted white T-shirt and jeans that hugged every curve.
And then there were those heels, the same color as her lips.
The woman looked like…Fuck, if he was going to be honest, she looked like sex, with her smoky eye makeup and her stillness and the way she watched him like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to shoot him or fuck him.
“No.”
Aiden took a step forward and caught himself, retreating immediately.
Crowding her would only result in her doing something like going for the gun she must have in the back of her waistband.
He couldn’t bully her into agreeing. She had to do it because she wanted to or it wouldn’t work. “Give me a chance to change your mind.”
She hesitated, and he waited, giving her time to think about it.
Charlotte finally glanced at the door to the bar and lowered her voice.
“Look, I don’t know what you think you know about me, but even if you had the ability to take Romanov down, I can’t do a damn thing to help you.
I don’t have contacts in the force anymore.
I’m just a woman with a gun who’s better than average at poker. ”
“That’s not all you are, and you know it.
” She was the daughter of a fed with a specialty in organized crime, and her record when she’d been a cop was downright impressive.
Every sign pointed to her having a keen mind and the ability to think on her feet.
The woman was practically built for undercover work.
And getting her to work with me will be a knife in her father’s heart .
He set the thought aside, refusing to allow it to show on his face.
He had to play this slow, because if she’d been a good cop, that meant she was going to want to check him out—which was a big fat black mark against him.
There was no way she wouldn’t equate him with Romanov, and getting into bed with one devil in order to take out another would reek of desperation.
Something he counted on.
Because if Charlotte Finch really wasn’t a dirty cop, she’d do damn near anything to clear her name and punish the one who’d orchestrated the whole thing.
Moving slowly, Aiden pulled out a card and held it out. “If you want to meet up and talk someplace more…neutral…give me a call. I think you’ll like what I have to say.” He waited for her to take it, reaching out to snatch it like he was a snake who might strike at any time.
She read the card, her brows raising. “There’s no such thing as neutral territory in New York. And I’m sure as hell not coming to Boston.”
That’s what you think .
Aiden gave a smile that made her take a step back despite his best efforts to be disarming. “The ball is in your court. You can toss that card in the nearest Dumpster, or you can call that number and let me help you right all the wrongs that Dmitri Romanov has done to you.”
Her lips parted, and the tiny part of him not locked completely down and under control wondered if she’d taste as good as she looked. Charlotte hesitated. “I’ll…think about it.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He had her. She might not realize it yet, but he did. Now it was only a matter of playing his cards to maneuver her into exactly the right position to maximize her benefit.
And to maximize the knife to John Finch’s throat once he realized his precious daughter was in bed with Aiden O’Malley.