“Are you okay?” Izzy’s one simple question was all it took for me to slip out of sated and happy and into fucked in the head.

“Considering Juliette’s brother works with Carter Dominick at The Sapphire Hotel, and Juliette and Colin were at Rebecca Dominick’s wake when I was there in 2019, and I briefly met my son there and didn’t know who he was . . .” I stood and dragged my hand through my hair, angry all over again that I was robbed of time with my son. If only I’d stuck around the wake a few minutes longer, I might have bumped into Juliette.

If. Fucking. Only.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy said softly, “but . . . what?”

I backtracked and started from the beginning, managing not to lose my cool. “I don’t want to talk about that, though,” I said at the end of a lengthy monologue.

I’d talked more in the last twenty-four hours than in twenty-four years. I was shocked I hadn’t downed the entire bottle instead of only having a few drinks.

“Please,” I begged, sensing my sister wouldn’t be able to let this go. “Just not now.”

“Okay,” she said on a winded exhale. “Um. Well.”

“We did track down more information about Lennon and Jamie. Nothing enlightening, which is why we waited for you to call when you were free,” Hudson spoke up, clearly realizing Izzy wasn’t ready to talk. “Jamie is twenty-six. Has a few priors in Dublin, but nothing serious. Their mother is currently in rehab in Ireland, and their dad is in prison. Twenty more years left on his sentence.”

“Great, he’ll make an excellent father-in-law for my son.” Sarcasm didn’t suit me well.

“I can also confirm Dylan Kelly’s in the Caymans, and he is their uncle,” Hudson let me know. “I pulled his cell phone records, and while Dylan hasn’t checked in on his sister at all, he is in regular contact with their father. Which has me wondering if Daniel O’Brien never met his boss because his boss⁠—”

“Is in prison,” I finished for them. Shit. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone ran a criminal enterprise from behind bars.”

“But why run their business in New York and not Dublin?” Izzy asked the question on all of our minds. “Adds a whole other layer of complexity.”

“And a layer of protection,” I pointed out.

“True,” she acknowledged. “We’ve outsourced help to see if anyone in Ireland knows the real story about their father, Brian Cormac.”

I had to sit back down for this. “You’re going to tell me you put in a call to The League, aren’t you?” I dropped my forehead into my palm, my elbows going to my thighs. “The same organization now in bed with Carter Dominick at The Sapphire Hotel.” I was swiftly back into denial mode again.