WELL…SHIT. WHEN I’d heard the crash of dishes earlier, both East and I had bolted to the kitchen, ready to break apart a fight.
And now? King, Theo, and I had finally found some common ground after King’s apology. That was all Theo had wanted. Acknowledgment. To hear that King knew he’d fucked up and that he appreciated and trusted Theo the same way Theo had.
Wasn’t this a “Kumbaya” moment?
King took his phone from Theo, but instead of bringing it to his ear, he did something I’d never seen him do even during our time together—he answered the call on speaker, letting us in on the conversation.
“This better be good news,” he said.
The sound of Alessio breathing heavily like he’d just run a marathon was all I could hear until he said, “I got him. I got the motherfucker.”
My entire body froze.
“Did you hear me?” Alessio repeated. “I said?—”
“You fuckin’ got him.” A smile curled Theo’s mouth as his eyes met mine.
“Is that Theo?”
“Damn right it is,” Theo said. “Shep’s here too.”
“Good. Saves me a call.”
“Yes, yes, we’re all here, now tell us what you found.” My words came out a little demanding, but fuck, he’d said he found the guy, so I was allowed to be impatient.
“He’s a Libertine, all right,” Alessio said. “Aristide ‘Ari’ Moreau, better known as Aris Danforth.”
“Wait a goddamn minute.” King scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head, like he was wondering if he’d heard right. “Ari Moreau? The French investor?”
“More like a high-level hacker from Chicago. His whole persona is bullshit.” Alessio still sounded out of breath, and it made me wonder if he’d chased the fucker across the city.
“Where are you now?” I asked.
“Where I always am. Why?”
So at Libertine in his cave of computers and tech gadgets. Good. “Just making sure you didn’t take matters into your own hands without backup. You sound a little…winded.”
“You’d be fuckin’ celebrating too if you finally caught the asshole who’d managed to slip by you for weeks.”
Theo grinned at me and mouthed,Was he dancing or fucking?
I snorted and shook my head, knowing there was no way it was the latter. Alessio had been too focused on cracking this mystery to evenconsiderenjoying himself. He hadn’t even gone to confession nights, which we all knew were just an excuse to see Father Vitale—even if he refused to acknowledge the priest when we were there.
“You’re absolutely sure?” King asked.
“Positive. I’ve been tracking his online presence over the last two days to make sure he’s not communicating with anyone.”
“And?”
“Looks like he used to be a two-man show, but when you offed his brother, he went solo.”
King cursed. “Okay. So we need a plan. Obviously he’s aware that things went to shit in Brazil, otherwise he’d have Theo tied up in a storage unit?—”
“Don’t fucking remind me,” I growled.
King grimaced. “So what would we do in that situation?”
“If things went to shit?” Theo said.
