His older brother didn't waste time. "You still at Silver Quail?"
"Yes."
"I'm ten minutes out." Rowan's tone held the unmistakable command of someone used to being obeyed. "We're serving a warrant on a resident connected to a fraud ring. The task force is staging near the east gate."
Of all the nights, of all the hours... Rowan arriving now wasn't coincidence; it wasn't luck. It was timing—brutal, perfect timing.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he asked quietly.
"Because I didn't know until an hour ago," Rowan replied. "This case finally cracked, and Silver Quail is tangled deeper than I expected."
He absorbed that silently. A fraud investigation running parallel to everything happening in his own home. Arrogance layered on top of corruption; it fit too perfectly. Vivian had always acted untouchable—the kind of arrogance built on a foundation no one was supposed to examine.
Rowan continued, "Are you outside or inside?"
"Inside. My daughter's asleep."
A brief pause. "She okay?"
He looked at her again—peaceful now, but wounded in a way no child should ever be. "She will be."
Another beat of silence. Rowan understood what those words meant.
"I'm coming to you first," his brother said.
He hung up without ceremony.