I pick up the cold metal, turn it over in my hands. The woman who saved my life tonight. The federal rat who's been playing me for weeks.
"You lying bitch."
She backs against the wall, hands raised. Smart move. I cross the room in three steps, slam my palms against the wood on either side of her head. Cage her in.
"How long?" My voice comes out rough, dangerous.
"Eamon—"
"How fucking long have you been gathering evidence against my family?"
Her gray eyes don't waver. "Three weeks."
"Three weeks of lies. Three weeks of you spreading your legs while planning to destroy us."
Color floods her cheeks. "That's not what this was."
"No? Then what was it, Agent Quinn?" I lean closer, my body pressing hers against the wall. "Professional duty? Taking one for the team?"
"The mission had nothing to do with sleeping with you."
"But you did it anyway."
"Yes."
Her honesty hits harder than any lie would. I grab her wrists, pin them above her head with one hand. Feel her pulse racing under my thumb.
"You know what we do to rats in my world?"
"Kill them."
"After we make them suffer." My free hand traces her jaw, deceptively gentle. "You've seen what these hands can do, haven't you?"
She shivers but meets my gaze. "You won't hurt me."
"Why not?"
"Because you care about me. Despite everything."
The truth cuts deep. I want to snap her neck. Want to fuck her against this wall. Want to make her disappear forever. Want to keep her here where I can protect her.
"Tell me about your assignment," I growl. "All of it."
"FBI sent me after Agent Henderson went missing. My handler is Riordan Byrne. Target is RICO charges against your family."
"What evidence do you have?"
"Photos. Audio recordings. Financial records."
My grip tightens on her wrists. "Recordings of what?"
"Conversations at the pub. Some with you."
Every late-night talk. Every moment I thought we connected. All recorded for prosecutors.
"Where are they now?"
"Encrypted servers. Byrne has access."
