"The network and the studio helped keep his behavior from the board. I don’t think Aidan would have let that go on if he’d known. Especially not when you were at risk." His gaze turned curious once more. "Your security seems to be a priority of his."
"There’s no point in fishing with me. I’ve got three siblings. I know how to keep a secret."
He snickered, but his eyes turned, in a word, googly. "Do you really think your dad will play for me?"
The question had me blinking a second, my brain whirring as I tried to process why he was asking me that exactly, and then I remembered. I’d told him Dad would set up in the corner and play any song Conor wanted.
"I don’t see why not. Although he hates New York. That would probably be the hardest thing of all—getting him to come here."
Conor wafted a hand. "I have houses all over the States. I could go to him."
My lips twitched. "Houses or safe houses?"
He waggled his finger at me. "Houses."
Lifting my arms and cupping my elbows, I bit my lip as I tilted my head back to look at the screens.
"Before the exposés, this was the most useful thing I’d ever done in my life," I told him softly.
"Useful? That’s a weird way of phrasing it."
"Is it? I’m a celebrity’s daughter. I’m Dagger Daniels’ spawn. Everyone knows me, at least, they think they do. Everything I’ve gotten, they think came from my connection to Dad. No matter how hard I work, no matter how much I try, everything will always be because I’m my father’s daughter." I cut him a look. "Don’t get me wrong, it comes in handy sometimes.
"I’m pretty sure the only reason the network didn’t sue is because of Dad, well, and Aidan, but that wouldn’t have stopped Wintersen I don’t think. And I’m not saying that I feel sorry for myself, because I don’t. I have a great life and a lot of that is because of my father, but it was just... good to be able to go in there and destroy that smirk.
"All these months later, it still triggers an adrenaline rush like no other."
"He quit soon after, didn’t he?"
I nodded. "His wife petitioned for a divorce too. I regret hurting her, although having to be married to that bastard must have been a punishment in and of itself."
Conor asked, "You don’t think he’d hate you enough to send someone after you?"
I snorted. "No."
"He lost everything," Conor pointed out. "Career, family, reputation, his whole life because of what you did."
"He deserved it. He ruined a whole host of lives before I came along and served him some justice." I scowled at him. "Are you on his side?"
Conor snickered. "Me? No. I’m just trying to figure out who’d want you dead. That’s all."
"It’s to do with the exposés, surely?"
He dug his spoon into his carton of frozen custard. "Yes, it’s more than likely, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t check out every avenue, wouldn’t I?"
Begrudgingly, I admitted, "I guess."
"I’ll admit I know it’s a dead end. I’m just giving you shit."
I frowned at him. "How do you know that?"
"Because Wintersen’s gone missing."
"What?" I sputtered.
"He’s gone missing," Conor repeated.
Unease filled me at the way he was looking at me. Like he expected me to understand what was happening.
I swallowed. "Aidan?"
Conor winked. "I reckon, don’t you?"
Jesus.
I turned to look at the screen, at Wintersen’s puckered up face, trying to think that the bastard was dead because of me, trying to reconcile that Aidan had protected me more than I even knew, and my mind tripped on it. Stalling on the thought that two men had died because of me.
I wasn’t sure why he would go to such lengths to protect me. Just as I couldn’t understand why I’d never been able to forget him.
Nothing about us made sense, but that didn’t stop the rightness that filled me at the thought of him. Never mind the inherent relief I’d felt at seeing him again.
Not just because he represented safety, but because it had been too long, and it made my heart happy to be in his presence once more.
Weird, for sure, but maybe I needed to start embracing that weirdness.
Weird kept me alive, after all.
"Did Thomas suffer?" I whispered, needing to know, needing to compound the guilt.
"Stab wound to the heart. The guy was a pro." Conor’s tone was wooden, emotionless. Somehow, I knew that the colder he sounded, the more he actually felt.
He’d called Thomas by his first name. Not just by his job description.
He’d cared.
"His poor family." I bit my lip and with a final glance at what had been the cherry on the sundae, a video that had gone viral, a video that had taken down a whole host of execs on the TVGM board, that had triggered the #MeToo movement in my old place of work and that had single-handedly destroyed my TV career, I stepped back and away without another word.
Dipping out of the room as quickly as I’d dipped in, leaving Conor to his investigations, I moved further down the hallway.
Guilt and remorse entwined, powerful enough to almost steal my breath.
"Poor Thomas," I whispered to myself, unable to believe that my actions had led to an innocent man being murdered.
Was it wicked to hope that the O’Donnellys had made the bastard pay? That they’d hurt him? Badly? It wouldn’t bring Thomas back, wouldn’t make up for his widow’s grief, wouldn’t change the fact his kids would be raised without their father, but there had to be some justice, didn’t there?
Some karmic, cosmic vengeance?
The need to see Aidan hit me harder than before.
There was no safety within these walls, not even within his embrace, but he made my brain stop overworking. If anything, I reverted to a giggling teenager when I was with him, and as bad as that was, as embarrassing, right now, with a man’s blood on my hands, I needed that.
As I padded down the hall, trying to seek out Aidan’s location, I had to admit the penthouse was massive. Big enough to make me jealous even though it was far too much real estate for one man.
Did Conor get lonely? Haunting these halls by himself?
He’d said that he was taken. By whom? I’d never heard anything in the gossip columns about him dating anyone, and the O’Donnellys were hot news in Manhattan.
On the hunt now, I opened a few doors, found some bedrooms, a really cool home theater that looked like it was never used with huge sofas planted in there, and another room that appeared to be some kind of aquarium. One wall of fish, that was pretty much all I saw.
Grimacing at the sight and wondering why he was obsessed with water, I ducked back into the hallway and carried on my way.
When I heard grunting, my body quickened. It really shouldn’t have. I wasn’t this dumb, wasn’t so overly hormonal that they had control over my brain, but damn, that sounded like sex.
Curious by nature—hell, that was one of the reasons I was damn good at what I did—I continued onward, unsure if I wanted to see a show or not. Bypassing a stuffed bear in mid-roar—God, who had taxidermy anymore?—I found a gym, and swiftly realized I was about to get a free show anyway.