Page 28 of Bitter Lies

“Let’s call it shopping.” He tugs on the handle, opens the door, and exits the vehicle. Laying his forearms on the roof of the Jag as he stoops so he can see me. “Don’t look so glum. I promise this’ll be worth our time.”

Flinging open my door, I yank the ticket from the valet’s hand. “If there is one scratch, I’ll cut your limp dick off, understand?”

The color drains from the poor kid’s face as he nods and in a shaky voice, says, “Yes, sir. I’ll park it in the back.”

Silas slaps the roof, getting the valet’s attention. “Ignore him. He’s on his period.”

Flipping Silas off, I stomp my way down the sidewalk toward the small gallery across from Portman Square. When he brought up the exhibition earlier, I tried steering him away, knowing this was the art exhibit Isabel was taking her grandmother to.

After last night’s texts, I told myself to stay away. It’s the smart move. The only move. For both of us.

When her team drove off, I paced the sidewalk before calling the one person who could give me the answers I needed.

“Need information about a woman. Just helped her protection detail get her out of Silas’s newest club. Her name: Dr. Isabel Lopez. She’s a physician at John Radcliffe.”

Before I could say more, he cut in. “Wait. How did you meet this woman?”

“That’s not important.”

“Aiden, if I ask you a question, I expect⁠—”

“Three weeks ago, in Oxford. She was at a bar with my cousin. Jen saw me and demanded a ride home. Because they were pissed off their arses, I offered her one as well.”

He grunted, telling me he was about to interrupt.

“Let me finish. Her detail followed us. Things got a little out of hand when she did what I told her not to. After that night, I left her alone.” I groaned, knowing the longer I talked, the worse this sounded. “Today I saw her at Rico Lopez’s. Trent invited me last minute, giving me zero chance to research. Fast forward to babysitting Silas at his club during a meeting with Cort Theiss. Silas prowled the club first and found a group that caught his eye. Her group. Now tell me what I want to know.”

“You got yourself mixed up with Princess Isabel?” His voice, strained with suppressed anger, showed this was not good. “And you were unaware of who she was when you first met her?”

I remember the woman holding the gun to my head, ordering me to back away from the princess. I’d planned to look into it, but between Silas and Trent, I’d been busy. Not to mention, I’d already decided not to follow through. Never planned to see her again.

“Yes. She works with Jen, my cousin. A friend. I had no reason to care who she was. She wasn’t exactly on the agenda. Shoot me.” I mouthed off, knowing very well that pissing this man off could come back and bite me in the arse later. “Who is she?”

His long pause warned me I’d regret that. “Ever heard of King Antonio?”

“Yes. My SBS unit and a special ops crew from Hermosa Islas teamed up a few years ago. One of my last missions. Why?” I didn’t follow, and I frowned.

“She’s his baby sister.” His snicker took me by surprise. “You okay?”

Those words came close to knocking me on my arse. Luckily, there was a wall behind me that broke my fall. “Bloody hell.”

“Word of advice. Think very hard before you do anything stupid.”

A momentary pause punctuated his speech before he went on with what he had to say. “I’d tell you to drop it and forget about her, but I’ve been there, man. My wife was off-limits, or should’ve been. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and knew I was done for. I’m not sure where your head is, but I get the impression you’re deeper than you want to admit.”

I flat-out lied. “I can walk away. No problem.”

“Well, let me give you a few things to think about if you can’t.”

As he became more serious, a sense of impending doom washed over me, causing me to hold my breath, aware I was fucked ten ways to Sunday.

“Watch what you tell her. The more she knows, the more danger she’s in. The faster it complicates things for everyone. Her brother isn’t about to just let his baby sister date a criminal. Not one working for the Doyles.”

He’s not wrong, but I don’t tell him that.

“You bring her into this now, it becomes a problem. My problem.” He let that sink in before he said, “So, I’ll ask you this once… Is this just a fling, a fun little fuck? Because if that’s the case, go fuck someone else, someone who won’t make my life a living hell for the next several months.”

I didn’t respond. Which told him all he needed to know.