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It’s Eli who sucks in a breath before spilling out a whole-ass monologue about the damn hacker who did the trafficking website, about the attempts to hack his servers, about the crash that put his stepmother and father in the hospital only a few months ago.

All the while I feel like I’m playing catch up. Every question that pops into my head is answered a few sentences later until he’s done—at least I think he’s done.

I wait a few seconds to see if any of them will say anything more.

“Okay, why are you telling me about this?”

Iris takes over then.

“The only people who know my dad uses Eli’s company to store the most sensitive files of Crawford Inc. are the people in the Turris.”

She gives me a moment to let that sink in, and I gotta give her credit because I fucking need it.

“Are you saying one of us figured out who Gotcha is before Eli? That they hired them to take out Michael just so they can go snooping in the files of your company?”

What the fuck could they want?

The answer bursts out of me before I’ve even fully processed it.

“They want a property.”

“Bingo.” Beatrice looks surprised I figured it out.

“Seems you’re not just a pretty face,” Iris says and even manages a teasing smirk.

I feel one tugging on my lips too, but add a wink.

“Come on now, you know you’re the prettiest of them all, gorgeous.”

She snorts before letting out a real laugh and we all follow. It’s a kind of pressure release. We laugh louder than I’d say our comments are worth, but come the fuck on. We’re talking about serious shit here.

And it seems we all remember at the same time, since the laughter dies down gradually but fairly fast.

“Okay, so I obviously didn’t do this, but how are you sure?”

I wonder what the selection process was like, and while the faces of every Chair and Heir of the Turris flash through my mind, I have a pretty good idea of who their suspects might be.

“After Jim died,” Iris answers. “We all talked about it. Richard saying you were the one who had Jim killed at the meeting and your response was enough for us. We know you don’t care enough about your family’s legacy to go to these lengths for a property.”

I snort, mostly at my own internal joke.

If they only knew how much I do care about my family’s legacy . . . but they are right.

“I want Barclay Arena,” I point out. “I’d be stupid not to, but I’m not crazy enough to murder anyone for it, or attempt a murder.”

“Exactly.” Beatrice nods once as if the matter is settled.

But it’s not.

Eli brings it all back.

“The biggest question right now is, who in the Turris has not only the means to pay and hide Gotcha, but also who is, as you say, crazy enough to attempt to kill Dad and Lyla for a property. But I think the answer will be obvious once we find out how in the hell they found Gotcha in the first place.”

It’s obvious this has struck a chord with him, and I can’t blame him.

If someone in the Turris got one over me by knowing more about hockey than me, I’d have a chip on my shoulder about it too.

Hacking is Eli’s thing.