Page 181 of Ruthless Claim

But right now, Valentina is warm against my side, her breathing going slow and steady in the quiet room.

They tried to take this apart and spent months, if not years, engineering exactly the right lever to use against me.

They found my guilt and my pride and my particular brand of stubbornness and aimed all of it at my marriage, hoping to break it.

They came close. They came frighteningly close.

But she’s here. We’re here.

And she said eventually.

24

VALENTINA

Five weeks pass and we find absolutely nothing.

I know this not just because Cillian tells me everything now but because I’ve been doing my own digging.

I have money and contacts, along with a mob boss brother who answers my calls on the first ring when it matters and a sister-in-law who has become my primary intelligence source because Emma, bless her, cannot help herself.

“Leo says the offshore accounts match what he knows about the Corsicans,” Emma tells me on day five, Seraphina babbling in the background. “But when he tries to get more information, it all falls apart. He’s furious.”

I tug on a lock of my hair in frustration. Every time we follow one thread, it seems to disintegrate. Whoever hired Claire is good at erasing their tracks.

“He threw his laptop yesterday in anger,” Emma continues.

I pause. “Cillian did?” I ask, sitting up straighter. I really hope he didn’t—Macbooks are expensive, although the thought of me worrying about expenses is hilarious given how rich we all are.

“No, Leo did.” Emma pauses before humming thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Cillian has though. He’s always had a temper.”

Eight days after the shooting, I call Sonny. Emma had convinced him to look up anything information about Claire, insisting that Cillian was the one who wanted it but was too busy to ask himself.

Emma had targeted Sonny specifically because he had always had a soft spot for her and Emma wasn’t above using that to her advantage.

Sonny walks me through everything he found and lost, and I listen and ask questions and take copious notes. By the time I hang up and look at my notepad. All I have are question marks.

Connor has even decided to investigate this as well, throwing enough money to fund a small country. I find this out when he personally calls me. How the hell he got my phone number is beyond me.

“I’m taking over this investigation,” he had told me, as if this was the greatest thing I’ve ever heard.

I’m grateful he wasn’t in front of me as I rolled my eyes. “I appreciate that, Connor,” I tell him politely. I do not appreciate it. I wish he would go the fuck away and let us figure this out.

“I’ve allocated significant resources to finding whoever is behind this.” He pauses, clearly waiting for me to be impressed. “Significant resources.”

I fantasize about wrapping one of Cillian’s ties around Connor’s neck and squeezing. “That’s very reassuring,” I say, trying my hardest to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I’m not sure it’s working.

Connor huffs. “I don’t tolerate attacks on this family.”

My smile is poisonous. “Neither do I.”

He pauses. I don’t think Connor Brennan is accustomed to women agreeing with him in ways that somehow don’t feel like agreement.

“I’ll keep you informed,” he says, sounding a little annoyed.

God, can he go away now? “Please do,” I respond before hanging up. I grit my teeth in irritation. Significant resources. As if we haven’t been doing the same damn thing day and night since Claire and Finn disappeared.

Cillian had hired a private investigator, but all his leads were coming to dead ends.