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I flip him the bird and get in. The door barely shuts before Silas takes off, tires squealing as we pull away.

“I’m taking it you’ve changed your mind?” There’s a glimmer of optimism in his voice, but he’s only setting himself up for disappointment.

Once I’m buckled, I shake my head. “No. You’re only here to drop me at my place. Get in my way, I’ll make you disappear. Your dick won’t even be able to find you.”

Silas throws his head back and laughs as he takes the corner, cutting off a few cars. “You have some enormous balls talking to me like that. Now shut the feck up and tell me what my father wants us to do.”

Chapter 29

Aiden

Silas bitches the entire way to my home in Fulham when I refuse to tell him anything. I’m close to yanking out my gun and shooting him by the time we pull up to the curb. Right as I’m about to escape, his phone rings and he hits the green button on his steering wheel, pausing my exit.

“Father, perfect fucking timing.” Silas lowers his black sunglasses so he can peek over the top of them at me. “Aiden and I were just discussing our evening plans.”

“Is that so?” Trent sounds disappointed. “I assumed Aiden was working on the urgent project I assigned him.”

“I am. But your spawn is trying to weasel his way into tagging along. I’ve told him more than once he’ll only get in my way.” With a raised eyebrow, I let Silas know that I’m not interested in playing games or getting on Trent’s shit list. “I’ll let you two work it out while I collect what I need so I can get started.”

“Hang on. I want both of you to hear this first, then you can go, Aiden.” The grim, almost menacing inflection in Trent’s voice leaves no doubt in my mind—I won’t like what he has to share. “There’s a shipment coming in the day after tomorrow that I’m very interested in. Silas, I need you here so we can go over the details. Aiden, your job will be to locate the port it’s docking and then find a way to gain us access. I’ll send you the ship’s number, and you do that beautiful thing you do and track it.”

“What’s the cargo?” Silas drums out a steady beat on the steering wheel with his index finger. “Warm or cold?”

I do my best not to react, keeping my demeanor neutral.

“Cold.”

Good. Drugs I can handle. I don’t have the patience to deal with the skin trade Trent dabbles in.

“It’s time to let the Russians know their plan to enter my territory will not be tolerated. If they wanted to play this game, they should’ve come to me first. Since they didn’t, we’ll keep the merchandise until they pay my tax.” Trent chuckles, aware it will be double—if not triple—the value of the drugs.

I need to wrap this up, so I jump in. “I’ll get on that as soon as I finish this job. We good?”

“Yes. Now get on with it and report back once it’s done.” Trent’s still talking when I open my door and hop out.

Before the door even latches, Silas is gone, tires squealing as he speeds off to do bad guy shit. That thought makes me snicker, a quiet chuckle slipping free. I can’t believe I just used Isabel’s words. The woman’s in my head.

Fifteen minutes later, Bear’s in the Jaguar. An old blanket covers the backseat to protect the leather from his drool and claws. He loves going for rides, but I rarely let him ride in the Jag. No time to grab my truck; it’s a few blocks away, parked in the garage.

Silas cost me time I didn’t have. I need to finish my initial search before Isabel leaves for Oxford. Gives me a chance to ask questions if anything comes up and pass along anything important.

I want the penthouse cleaned before she returns to London, making my timeline tight. I don’t want her having to deal with that mess. She’ll have enough to manage. Besides planning the funeral, she’ll need to prepare for Alma’s return to the penthouse, coordinate the in-house nurse’s schedule, and manage her grandmother’s increasingly confused state. Taking that off her plate is the least I can do.

Bear stays alert during our drive. I’m always impressed by how quickly he senses when it’s time to work. His entire demeanor shifts from the playful dog he was with Izzy to the very disciplined canine he was trained to be. Once military, always military—even when you’re a dog.

The concrete walls of the underground garage press in as I park, the silence broken by the click-clack of my fingers as I message the only people I trust. They have no ties to Trent. He doesn’t even know they exist.

If I want it done right, I can’t do this alone. And I sure as hell won’t use Doyle men. I need a team that won’t hold me back. One who can get the job done and keep whatever we uncover private, trusting me to decide what to do with it. They’ve stood by me when hell rained down around us and always there when I need them.

I meant what I said about not trusting her guards. That’s why Teddy’s with her. He’s more than a pilot; he’s special ops. He pulled us out of places we never should’ve survived. I trust him to keep her safe, and to be my eyes and ears. He won’t let me down.

“Come on.” Opening the backdoor, Bear leaps out and sits beside me. “Good boy. Let’s go see what we can find. You remember what to do, right?”

Bear barks, his tail wagging vigorously against the concrete.

“Then let’s stop wasting time and get to it.” I snap my fingers, and the echo bounces off the walls.

Without delay, he rises, and we make our way to the lift, which will take us directly to the penthouse.