Page 44 of Forbidden Daddy
17
ROMAN
The oak table in my private meeting room had seen a lot of blood over the years—both literal and metaphorical. Tonight, it would see more.
I stood at the head, watching my inner circle file in with faces that revealed nothing. Connor, as steady as ever. Tommy, pale and jittery from too much caffeine and paranoia. Joey, still sporting a faint bruise on his jaw from where I’d laid him out for disrespecting Cassie. Sean, my bodyguard, limped with the controlled tension of a man who lived on constant alert. Fion O’Brien, scarred and silent, commanding respect through pure presence.
And Declan. My consigliere, my trusted advisor, the man who’d stood by my side through every crisis—until recently.
"Gentlemen," I said, my voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation. "We have a problem."
The room went silent. These men had followed me through wars, had bled for the Creed name, and had proven their loyalty repeatedly. But someone in this room—or someone with accessto our most sensitive information—was selling us out to our enemies.
"The warehouse trap wasn’t random," I continued, spreading surveillance photos across the table. "Neither were the intercepted shipments or the federal raids. Someone with inside knowledge has been feeding intel to hostile factions."
Tommy leaned forward, his laptop already open. "I’ve been running digital forensics on all our communications. Encrypted channels, burner phones, everything. The breach isn’t electronic."
"Meaning what?" Connor asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.
"Meaning it’s human intelligence," Declan said smoothly. "Someone close enough to our operations to know the timing, locations, and personnel. Someone we trust."
The accusation hung in the air like gun smoke. I watched each face, cataloging micro-expressions, looking for tells. But these were professional killers—if one of them was the mole, they would not give themselves away with nervous twitches.
"Who had access to all compromised operations?" I asked, feeling like we were going through the same motions over and over again.
Fion pulled out a manila folder, his movements deliberate. "As far as I can tell, eight people knew about the Baltimore warehouse, the shipping routes, and the Torrino meeting that got ambushed."
"Names," I demanded.
"Everyone in this room," Connor whispered. "Plus Cassie."
The mention of her name made my jaw clench. I’d already had this conversation with Declan, but hearing it in front of the others made the implication feel heavier. More dangerous.
"The girl’s clean," Joey said, surprising everyone. This from the man who’d called her a slut less than a week ago. "She doesn’t have the background or connections for this kind of operation."
"Doesn’t she?" Sean spoke up, his voice carrying that gravelly tone that came from too many cigarettes and not enough sleep. "Five months as your assistant. Access to your office, your files, and your conversations. Perfect position to gather intelligence."
My blood pressure spiked. "Cassie isn’t the problem here."
"How can you be certain?" Declan asked, his pale eyes studying me with uncomfortable intensity. "With respect, Roman, you’ve been... distracted lately. Making decisions based on emotion rather than logic."
Several heads nodded around the table. The betrayal hit deeper than any physical blow.
"Explain that comment," I said, my voice deadly.
"The marriage," Tommy said, his fingers nervous on his keyboard. "Bringing an outsider into the family. Changing security protocols to accommodate her presence. It’s creating vulnerabilities."
"She’s making you soft, boss," Sean added, and I saw red.
"Say that again." I leaned forward, every muscle coiled tight. "I fucking dare you."
Sean held my gaze, stubborn as a bulldog. "You’re making exceptions, taking risks you never would’ve taken before. The men are starting to notice."
"What men?"
"All of them." He gestured around the table. "We’re concerned about your judgment. About whether you can still make the hard choices this business requires."
The room erupted in murmurs of agreement. I watched faces I’d trusted with my life nodding along with Sean’s assessment, and something cold settled in my chest. These weren’t just concerns about security—this was a challenge to my authority.
