“Well, it’s one thing to break the law for you, but another to do it outside of your orders. Is that why O’Brian is missing?”
He claps his hands. “You are smarter than I gave you credit for. O’Brian was a liability. Not that I care what he does with his women, but I can’t have him making my crew look like pussies. Of course, that fighter… what’s his name, Tine? He won’t be causing me any more trouble.”
He doesn’t know Flint is still alive. Or that Flynn Tine is actually Flint Ifrinn. I’m relieved. I may not come out of this alive, but I know he and his brothers will make Ronan and his family pay.
“You seem impressed with yourself.”
He shrugs. “It’s all in doing business.”
“Was the Ifrinn fire business?” I’m dead anyway. Might as well learn the full truth before I go. He took my phone but tossed it on the table with my purse and other belongings. If the recording is still going, it’s being stored in the cloud.
“What is your interest in them?” His head cocks to the side. “What have you learned? Have you spoken to any of them?”
“I thought they were all dead?”
He watches me again. “The Ifrinns were too soft. The business needed real leadership.”
"Did you watch it burn? Did you hear them screaming?"
Pride lights up Ronan's face as he leans closer, clearly unable to resist the opportunity to boast. "You want to know how we did it? How we brought down the mighty Ifrinns?" His voice drips with satisfaction. "It was brilliant, actually."
I realize I’m looking into the eyes of pure evil as he begins his story. "The Ifrinns had guards everywhere, security systems, the works." He waves his hand dismissively. "But I knew that place inside and out. I’d been there before, you know. My father was brilliant too. Made Ifrinn think he was his closest friend and ally. I did the same. Making friends inside the house.”
"Inside?"
His grin widens. "Sweet little Jenna. The groundskeeper's daughter." He chuckles darkly. “She knew every secret passage, every weakness in their security. Her mother had worked there for years."
I don’t recall seeing the name Jenna anywhere in my research. But my focus had been on business, not the home staff.
“Did she die in the fire?” I ask.
He snorts. “She works for me. Her reward. I could probably have her come kill you. She’ll do whatever I ask. She’s in love with me, you know.”
I shake my head, wondering who could possibly be in love with him. Another psychopath, maybe. “So you and her?—”
He lets out a laugh. “Hell no. Sure, it might be nice to tap her, but she’s just the staff.” He says staff like he’s talking about pond scum. “But she did me a solid, so I keep her around.”
“How was she able to get around all the security?” I suppose a groundskeeper’s daughter would know all the ins and outs of the property.
"She showed us the old servants’ tunnel. Can you believe it? The mighty Ifrinns, brought down by a maintenance passage they'd forgotten existed." His eyes gleam with satisfaction. "All those fancy security measures, and they never thought to check what was right under their feet."
The horror of it strikes me. How many innocent people died because of one person's betrayal? For what? To win Ronan’s heart?
I think of Flint, of the pain in his eyes when he spoke of his family. Now I understand why finding the traitor means so much to him.
“How nice of her.”
Ronan falls silent, his self-satisfied smirk fading as his gaze fixes on me. The air grows thick with tension, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he contemplates what to do with me.
"You know," he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "I almost admire your determination. Most reports are too afraid to go snooping around my family."
I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. The way he's looking at me now reminds me of a cat playing with its prey before the kill.
"The question is, what am I going to do with a nosy reporter who knows too much?"
“I don’t know anything that isn’t already suspected.”
He arches a brow.