Liam #2
I scrub a hand over my face. She’s out of this. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“You don’t tell her anything, do you?” Ryan asks suddenly.
“About what?”
“Any of this. What we’re planning. What you’re feeling.”
I shoot him a look. “She’s got enough to deal with.
I’m not hiding shit from her, so quit giving me that look.
” Jesus. I’m the only person who has told her anything about clan business, so his accusation pisses me off.
I continue with my defense. “She hasn’t asked about the money.
If she did, I’d tell her. I don’t lie to her, Ry.
I’m not about to drag her deeper into this when she’s finally starting to recover from all the trauma this account caused. ”
“Or maybe you don’t want her to see the side of you that’s like Da,” Ryan says, voice calm, cutting straight to the bone. “Ruthless when it comes to our enemies.”
I freeze, then laugh, but it’s humorless, because he’s echoing my thoughts from only a moment ago. “You really know how to ruin a conversation.”
Ryan clicks another window open, showing a string of test transactions. “The first wave of leaks will go live after midnight. It won’t hit her account. Not even close.”
“Good.” I pause, then ask, “What if they notice the pattern?”
“They won’t,” he says. “But if they do, they’ll chase the wrong leads. And by then, I’ll have everything mapped.”
“I’ll follow up with more instructions then.”
“You know I’ll do what you need, Liam,” he agrees. “But, I still think you should talk to Da. And Taryn.”
I lean back, watching the screens flicker. For the first time in days, I feel like we might have a shot at beating the Greeks without spilling blood.
Taryn’s face flashes in my mind, her wary eyes when she looks at me sometimes, like she’s not sure if I’m her husband or just another made man.
I want to protect her. I want her to trust me.
She should know I have her back. I have since the day we got engaged.
Like I told my brother, it’s not lying if she doesn’t ask about it.
She obviously wants to move on. I’m not going to stand in her way.
“I have to protect her, Ry,” I say the words in such a low voice, I’m surprised he hears me.
Ryan studies me for a long moment. “You’re different with her.”
I blink. “What?”
“You laugh more. Real laughter, not the fake crap you use on everyone else.”
“She’s funny,” I say defensively. “And I’m not always fake.” I can’t deny that sometimes I am. I do what’s necessary.
“She makes you better,” he continues, his voice calm and irritatingly certain. “You like her.”
I lean back, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. I like her. Maybe too much.”
Ryan’s gaze doesn’t waver for once. “You’re falling for her.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Maybe. Shit. No. I’m not. I can’t… Not yet… It’s too soon. She’s not there. She might never be.”
I don’t tell him how I can’t stop thinking about her.
About how she looks in the morning, her hair messy, wearing one of my T-shirts.
Or the fire in her eyes when she argues with me, like I’m both her greatest enemy and the only person who can keep up with her.
She’s under my skin. And yeah, it’s too soon to feel the way I do.
But I can’t help it. Don’t want to help it.
Ryan interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t worry. The new transactions will have them chasing shadows, and her fund’s covered.”
“Good,” I say. “If we need to set up additional leaks, we’ll do it. Taryn doesn’t need her fund anyway. She doesn’t need her money. My wife can depend on me.”
Ryan shoots me a look. “You sound like Da when you say that.”
I tense. “This isn’t about control. It’s about protecting her.”
“Protecting her by lying to her?” Ryan says, raising a brow.
“Don’t,” I warn. “I’m not lying to her.”
He shrugs. “I think we just differ in our definitions. Regardless, you care about her. That makes you reckless.”
“I’m always reckless,” I grin. “It’s part of my charm.”
Ryan shakes his head and returns to his screen. “Charm is overrated. Data engineering is the answer to this particular problem.”
“And between the two of us, we have both,” I quip.
He ignores me, already lost in the code again. Watching Ryan work is like watching someone speak a language I don’t know—and somehow, I still trust every word.
The door clicks open. I look up, grinning, but the expression on my wife’s face stops me cold. Taryn is in jeans and a pale sweater, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, but her shoulders are tight, her jaw set.
“Hey, beauty,” I say gently. “We were just—”
“I’m going to spend the night at Elizabeth’s,” she says abruptly. “I can’t go to dinner tonight.”
I blink. “Spend the night? Everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay.” Her teeth clench before she takes a breath. “She’s going through something. Needs me.”
Her voice is clipped. Guarded.
“Alright,” I say carefully. “Text me when you get there.”
She nods but doesn’t look me in the eye. I start to get up, but she’s out the door before I can say anything else.
Ryan glances at me. “She’s upset.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I just don’t know why.”
I know she cares about her friends, but this is different. I stare at the door long after she’s gone, an uneasy weight settling in my chest. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.