Page 20 of Bitter Lies

“Relax, Aiden. No need to get worked up. You had your chance and let it slip. If you don’t act soon, I will. Show her what it’s like being with a real man.”

Given my current state, it’s suicidal of him to push me like this.

“She reminds me of someone I once knew. A wildcat in bed. Makes me wonder if she’d be the same.”

Before I can grab his throat and choke the life out of him, he walks away. One second longer and I’d have done it. Then I’d have marched downstairs, thrown Izzy over my shoulder, and gotten the hell out of here before the shitstorm erupted.

Once the murderous thoughts fade and I regain control, I follow him. By the time I catch up, he’s already seated across from the man we were supposed to meet almost an hour ago. They’re in a roped-off area, drinks all around, watching the crowd below.

Seconds away from joining them, a tank of a man steps in front of me, his hand pressing into my chest. “This is a private meeting.”

“Move before I end you,” I warn, in no mood to explain.

His first mistake is shoving me back like he’s in charge. “I said this is a private meeting.”

His second is putting his hands on me again.

Which is how he ends up on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, my gun pressed firmly against his forehead.

“Touch me again, and I’ll put a bullet through your brain.” Leaning in slightly, so he sees how serious I am. “Next time, know your place.”

“Aiden, put the gun away. You’re scaring my customers,” Silas snickers from his seat, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Jesus, man. Don’t take your anger out on the man for doing his job. All you had to say was you were with me.”

“I shouldn’t have to say shit. He should know.” With the safety back in place, I tuck my pistol into its holster under my coat. “Hire better help, Mr. Theiss. Someone with a brain bigger than an acorn.”

Ignoring the gormless fool scowling up at me from the floor, I take my seat beside Silas. If he’d done his homework, he’d know every player involved. That’s what a bodyguard worth a damn does. Not throw their weight around like a babbling idiot, thinking they can intimidate anyone who walks in.

Putting him to the ground like that does wonders for my mood, taking the edge off the tension still lingering under my skin.

Sweat beads on Cort Theiss’s upper lip, a sign he’s rattled. Leaning forward, I grab a bottled water off the small table and toss it to him. “Drink that and relax. Then tell us what it is you think we can do for you.”

Unscrewing the top, he gulps down a third before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I’ve got a few antique pieces I’m looking to sell. Perfect for your collection, Mr. Doyle. Could even bring in a few buyers willing to pay double what I’m asking.”

“Then why sell them to us?” I ask as Trent’s words not to trust him echo in my head.

A man willing to sell an item below market value only adds to that distrust. There are only two reasons for it.

“I’m not legally authorized to sell them.” He takes another drink as if the words leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“But if we buy them from you, we can?” Silas lifts his left eyebrow, unconvinced. “Explain.”

Dabbing a napkin on his forehead, Cort clears his throat. “You’d have to wait a few years, of course. Forge the papers. Make it look like an auction purchase. I know it’s⁠—”

I lean forward, letting my warning land. “Be careful. People have lost their lives for less.”

“I didn’t… I was…” Cort stammers, his hands shaking so fiercely as to slosh the water in his bottle. “Do we have a deal?”

With his ankle over his knee, Silas relaxes. Tapping his finger against his leg, he adjusts his glasses, then pulls a lighter from his pocket. Flicking it, he stares at the man dripping with sweat.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Playing with his water again, Cort nods before taking a drink. He should’ve waited because I know what’s coming, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to choke.

“The rare diamond displayed in your store.” Silas waits for the full impact of the truth to dawn on the other man. “I want it.”

“What?” he coughs, his fist pressing into his chest as he gasps for air. “I can’t⁠—”

Silas stands and buttons his jacket, and I follow suit. “Then we’re done here. Have a nice evening.”