Page 5 of The Devil's Price

"Thank you," I offer as she plops a heaping spoon of potato mash on my plate as she passes by me with the dish. Her swollen belly makes the perfect perch for the dish, arm wrapped around it. I see the way Declan adores her with his eyes too. Again… I would be so lucky…

"Have you spoken with my da?" she asks me, spooning more potato mash onto Maeve's plate, then Ronan's. Her eyes flick up to see me every few seconds, and the concentration and worry etched there pain me.

"Briefly today. He sends his love. He's waiting on his grandson's arrival." I wink at Declan, the months-old topic of discussiongiving his forehead a pinch. He wants a boy. Isla swears it's a girl.

"Granddaughter," she corrects, and she switches to the bowl of green beans. Declan helps himself to a portion of round cutlets and passes the plate to Ronan, maneuvering so that Isla will have less work. He's sneaky like that.

"Is he good? I mean, in good spirits? Is he healthy?" For a woman who nearly lost her father forever after being kidnapped by one of our sworn enemies, she's substantially calm. No other woman alive would be so strong and put together.

"He's down, Isla, but it's to be expected. If he gets off on the murder charge, he still has to face some hefty accusations with what they found in his barns." I wince as her eyes flash almost to black. She never knew her father was a mob boss her entire life until the circumstances of her arranged marriage to Declan revealed it. She's a tough cookie and part of this family now. And she's one of the reasons we are fighting so hard to get Mick out of this situation.

He's blood now.

"Dear," she sighs as she sets the bowl down after her pass around the table with green beans. She rubs her belly and perches next to her husband, and the conversation around the table turns to a lighter discussion. Maeve baby talks with Xander and Isla tears up at the idea of the babies being the best of friends, but I'm inside my head now with all the scheming and planning.

I will make sure Isla's father comes home. He's part of this family and he deserves for us to fight for him just as if he were my brother. Ronan seems agreeable to my idea of seducing the truth and some justice for Mick out of Ms. Siobhan Gallagher,and so I will pour all my efforts into that. But it doesn't mean I'm going to neglect other avenues.

Somewhere, there is a witness who saw it all. Mick knows the man and has told us as much. But he's been hiding so well, we can't find him despite turning over every rock in this God-forsaken city. It's my plan B. Find that witness and make him come forward.

In the meantime, I'm sticking with plan A, and I'm hoping to skim a little off the top just for myself, if Siobhan Gallagher is the sort to put out.

5

SIOBHAN

The sparkly gold material of this slim-fitting dress hugs my curves, making me itch as I fix the diamond drop necklace from evidence lock-up around my neck. Liam, still vehemently opposed to the idea of my going to dinner with an O'Rourke, holds the small listening device in hand as he watches me, eyes trailing over my body.

"This is a horrible idea, Sib." He's not fooling anyone by playing nonchalant. He's not just concerned about my well-being. He's jealous. The flash of envy in his eyes that drink me in gives him away like a bad cough during cold season.

"It's perfectly safe. You send Garda in all the time to do stuff like this." The long chain of the drop necklace dangles across my cleavage, the diamond perching on the inner curve of my right breast. I fluff my hair and glance at the small wire, no bigger than a pencil. The recorder, transmitter, and antenna are all compact enough to be neatly tucked away in something I could wear in my hair or taped to my chest.

"You're not trained for this," he says stiffly, and I see his eyes raking my bare flesh. The V in this neckline exposes far moreskin than I'm used to showing around colleagues, but I'm not a shy woman, and I'm not a pushover. This is my choice, not Liam's.

"I'll be fine. Now, where do we put that?" Tipping my head at the listening device, I finally meet Liam's gaze as he tears it away from my tits to place it on my face.

"I could get in trouble for this. Make sure those diamonds get back to me tomorrow. It's a cold case, but if they go missing, they'll be noticed." As he speaks, Liam slides the thin strap of my dress to the side. It's impossible to wear a bra in this thing, and almost my entire left breast is exposed as he slides the strap down my arm.

I reach up to cup it, keeping my nipple covered while he uses some sort of athletic tape to adhere the wire to my skin. As if he's done it a million times, he works deftly and in seconds replaces the strap to hide the wire. Then he turns to his computer on the desk behind him. The Garda station is empty this evening, except for a few higher-ups who are working late at the other end of the building. Everyone else is out on patrol or home with their families.

"Say something," he orders as his hands work on the keyboard, bringing up review screens on the monitor in front of him. He lowers himself to his seat to continue working while I test the device.

"Test… one, two, three… Test." Nerves tighten the muscles in my belly. My hands shake slightly, but I hide that from him by folding them together. This could be the best thing to ever happen for me when it comes to my career. Getting close to an inside man will grant me the opportunity to learn first-hand about the inner workings of the Irish Mob. I could gain enoughclarity and evidence to take them all down from the inside. Dublin would never be the same.

"You're alive." Liam looks up at me with a frown on his face. "I can't believe you're doing this."

"I'm not marrying the man," I say, swatting at him. "You'll see. I'll be able to get a lot of good information from this. Even if it doesn't provide a clear path to victory in this present case, I'll hopefully get enough to go after the O'Rourkes."

Every time I say the name O'Rourke, I taste bile in my mouth. I owe this to Trevor. If not for him, maybe I wouldn't be taking this risk, but he was cut short before he even got a chance. I need to do this.

"I just don't like it." There those eyes are on my tits again. The man needs to get his head out of the gutter.

"I'll bring the wire back tomorrow with the diamonds." Reaching for the small black clutch with my wallet and a small revolver tucked away—one Liam doesn't know I have—I turn to go. I know he's not going to actively sit there while I dine with O'Rourke, but the software will be transmitting and recording the entire event.

"Be careful, Sib." Those are the last words I hear as I breeze out of the Garda station into the cool night air. The cab I hired to drive me across town awaits me, engine on, thick exhaust puffing from the tail pipe. It's a bit chilly, so I hustle my steps and climb in. The driver reeks of cigar smoke, but I'm pleased he doesn't speak to me the entire drive.

At the restaurant, I slink out of the cab and toss a few extra dollars to the cabby, who grunts in appreciation before zipping off down the street. I focus on the bright lights of the restaurantmarquee. The place looks fancy for sure. When Finn called my office this afternoon to tell me he'd send the driver to pick me up and to remind me to be ready, I told him I'd hail a cab and meet him. I had no idea we were talking Michelin-stars.

I can see through the large panes of glass along the front of the building that everyone inside is wearing black tie apparel and feel thankful I listened to my younger sister, Clara, who insisted I wear something high-fashion. She was right. I owe her big time.

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