Page 98 of Twisted Redemption
“More direct?”
Alex nods. “David has all the information we need. So let’s get it from him.”
“Torture,” Dominic says, raising his eyebrows at Alex to clarify.
I sputter. “Seriously? We’ve already had to cover up Tristan’s murder. God knows if we’re going to get away with it. And now you want to add kidnapping and torture to that?”
Alex whirls on me, his glare pinning me to where I stand. “I want my sister safe. I want Sophia safe. And I’ll do anything to make sure that happens. We want to shut down his operations quickly? Let’s pry the information from his mind. We can wear masks. Record the whole thing. That should light a flame under the FBI’s ass.”
“Sounds risky.”
Felix shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”
Of course. The Grayson name holds a lot of power in this country. My father took his reputation and fortune and founded Grayson Security. It’s grown to become one of the most trusted companies out there. But my uncle—Felix’s father—took a different path.
He built his empire in Chicago, starting with hotels before moving to less-legal income streams. At least, that’s what we’ve suspected. And Felix has confirmed it with every little admission he’s given, including this one.
For his sake, I’m glad he came to Philadelphia to work for Grayson Security. Whatever his father had him doing, it doesn’t sound good.
“Or we could just get the FBI to do it for us.” I shrug. “With Tristan gone, they’ll go after David and pin everything on him.”
“Except they haven’t yet,” Alex says. “And Tristan has been dead for two weeks. They obviously need a bigger push.”
My eyes meet Dominic’s. I expect him to agree with me, but his gaze is hesitant. Contemplative.
“Where would we do it at?” he says, turning to face Felix and Alex.
Felix slows the spinning of the chair. “I know a place. Completely secure and off the grid. No one will find us.”
I sigh, leaning against the desk. I can’t lie—torturing Brooke’s ex does sound appealing. Watching him bleed, hearing him scream, denying his pleas to stop. It would be satisfying as hell.
The only thing stopping me is Brooke. Would she be able to forgive me? Sure, she doesn’t give a shit about David—practically told me that herself—but that doesn’t mean she wants to see him hurt. Not like that.
I’m already keeping one secret from her—Francis’s murder. I can’t keep another.
“No,” I say. “We should have enough evidence to sway the FBI now that Tristan is out of the picture. Let them handle it. It’s what they do.”
My brother, my cousin, and one of my closest friends all look at me. There must be something in my expression that convinces them, because I know it wasn’t my words.
“Fine,” Dominic says.
The other two nod silently.
“That settles it, then. We can reach out to who we spoke to beforehand. What was her name? Agent DeSanto?”
Dominic nods. “I’ll get in touch with her.” Then he stands. “I need to get home. We done here?”
“Sounds like it,” Alex says, his tone unnecessarily agitated. God, the man needs to get laid.
Felix strolls out of the office first. “Text if you guys need anything,” he calls over his shoulder.
In the living room, I find Brooke curled up on the couch, a closed fantasy novel in her lap. She’s frowning at her phone.
“Hey.” I lean over the back of the couch and press a kiss to the top of her head. She jumps, angling her phone away from me before locking the screen.
“Hey.” She turns, bringing herself up to her knees and kissing me. “You guys done?”
I nod. “Let’s go home.” I desperately need to fuck you.