Page 120 of Dublin Beast

“Agreed,” Tag says. “Stay on it, Finn. When you’ve verified the addresses, we’ll put men on the buildings and figure out how and when to strike.”

Finn reclaims his laptop and grins. “When I’m done, we’ll not only send a fucking message—we’ll carve it into Gravely’s bones.”

I blink, taking in my kid brother. “Dark but articulate.”

Brendan cracks his knuckles beside me and chuckles. “I admire the commitment, though.”

* * *

Gravely’s days are numbered, but instead of the usual adrenaline spike I get after a planning session like that, all I feel is this low pull in my chest, a string tethering me to something softer.Someonesofter.

Harper.

I climb the stairs two at a time, boots heavy on the stone, but slow at the security door leading to the main floor. The laughter of our ladies stops me.

It’s still odd to hear.

Mam died when we were kids and Da raised five boys. There has always been the echoes of cursing, pounding on each other, and horsing around but feminine laughter never filled our halls.

Not until now.

Since Laine’s arrival eight months ago, things have been changing for the Quinn brothers.

Changing for the better.

I follow the soft cadence of voices, low and engaged, and pause outside the library door. The rich scent of wood polish, hazelnut coffee, and fresh baking seeps out to greet me.

Cora has been in her glory with a houseful to take care of again and she’s practically bursting at the seams, waiting for the arrival of Baby Q in January.

Harper’s voice floats to me first. “Jamie Rowan is the frontline enticement. He’s hot, confident, and slick when it comes to building confidence. Him having a digital trail on all the socials lures women in with images of parties and good times.”

“If he’s smart,” Laine says, her lawyer side coming out to play, “he’s ensured none of the women in the online photos went missing. It would be too easy to tie him to the disappearances if the authorities saw a pattern.”

“Assumin’ the authorities aren’t in on it,” Piper says.

“Oh, I’m sure some of them are,” Harper says. “Which is why we have to make sure when this story breaks, there’s no way it can get buried. The women who have been caught up in this deserve to have this ended.”

“Then we’ll have to expose all the players,” Piper says.

“Exactly. I’m pretty sure there are other scouts on Eddie Mason’s payroll, but we also want to take down the people holding the women, the men buying them, and everyone who has knowledge that this is going on and who has done nothing to stop it.”

“I doubt they’re all careful,” Piper says. “In my experience, men playing the part of predators tend to think themselves untouchable—especially by women.”

“Then it’s our duty as kick-ass, card-carrying women, to educate them about how wrong they are,” Nora says.

“Hell yeah it is,” Harper agrees.

The room breaks into another wave of chatter, and I can’t help the smile stretching across my face. These women—my brothers’ women—have all been through fire. And here they are, rallying around Harper, making her fight their own, making her one of their own.

It’s only been a couple of days, but they’ve become fast friends. And watching her surrounded by women who are smart, dangerous in their own ways, and equally determined to take down monsters as she is?

I’ve never been prouder.

Or more fucking in love.

Laine’s a criminal attorney. Sharp as glass and twice as dangerous in a courtroom.

Piper was a McGuire. She grew up in this world—knows the politics of blood and legacy better than most men I’ve worked with.

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