Page 67 of Brutal Truths

My client doesn’t care. He’s bent on changing your mind.

Give me his name.

Can’t. You know this. What harm could come from a meeting with him? Invite him to your gallery where he can truly admire it. He tosses out an outrageous number that you laugh at, thinking he’s kidding. When you realize he’s not, you roar with laughter for another reason. The last person who refused to take his meeting lost everything.

Is that a threat? Do you know who I am?

I do. So does he. Take the meeting.

Before I can read more, Silas makes a grab for his phone. I taunt him by moving it just out of his reach, buying myself time to close the message before giving it back.

“Stop acting like children. You’re both getting on my last nerve.” Trent’s voice slices through the tension then refocuses us on the reason we’re here. “Tell me what you know about this Rurik. Why did you agree to meet with him?”

I turn away from Silas’s glare, suspicion written all over his face, and lock in on Trent. His voice is calm, and that isn’t something to take lightly. It might fool others, but not me. I know him. The calmer he appears, the more his internal frustration simmers and boils. Not a great combination with a man like Trent.

I’ve watched him put a bullet in a man without altering his expression. I’d much rather deal with him pissed than like this. He doesn’t need to be here to make it happen. One word, and Silas will pull the trigger for him.

I usually bend the truth with him, but today, only honesty will suffice. “There’s not much to tell. I know nothing about him. Didn’t even know the man existed until Isabel named him as her abductor.”

The only sound coming through the line is one I’m familiar with. The steady hum of tires against pavement—the same thing he’s hearing from us when we fall quiet.

“What does he want?”

“What does he want?” I repeat the question, knowing he damn well knows what this man wants. “Isabel. He wants Isabel.”

His breathing picks up slightly. Most wouldn’t notice, but I do.

“Why?”

The line between the truth that I know and the version I’m about to give him blurs. “Hell if I know. He didn’t exactly say during our less than five-minute conversation. He told me his name. Demanded I meet with him. Advised me to bring her with me.”

A light chuckle crackles through the line. “At least you’re consistent where she is concerned. Where is she?”

“Safe.” He’s not getting more from me.

His tone shifts again, turning harsh. “And where is that exactly?”

We veer off the main road onto a bumpy dirt service track, the ride turning uneven before coming to a stop.

“I’m not telling.” My voice stays level. “Like I said earlier, her being at your little club would be shit for business. She’s safe. Knows nothing about her grandfather’s business dealings. She can’t help you buy the Botticelli now that it’s gone missing. She’s no concern of yours.”

“I’m the one who will decide who’s my concern and who isn’t, not you,” Trent tells me before shifting back to the problem at hand. “You realize this meeting could be a trap, right? If he’s the man I suspect, he won’t let you walk out of there alive.”

That thought has crossed my mind. I took Isabel from him while he was gone. It shouldn’t have been that easy, which makes me think he expected it.

Why would he take her and then let someone else get her back so easily? I haven’t figured that out yet.

Maybe he didn’t expect it. Thought he’d covered his tracks well enough to keep anyone from finding her. My team is the best. It would have taken me longer without them.

If Trent knows something, I want it. “And who is that? Who do you believe Rurik is?”

He dodges my questions. “A man with a death wish. One I trust you will grant him for assuming he can outthink a Doyle.”

The rest he keeps locked down. By holding onto that information, he ensures that if he’s mistaken, nobody will be the wiser.

“You want me to kill him.” It’s not a question, and I say it like I already knew he would, because I did. Messing with a Doyle family member undoubtedly brings consequences.

“I do.” There’s a devilish edge to his voice. “Get the information you need from him first. Then have Silas hand him the envelope I sent. Once he’s read it, put a bullet in his head before he can put one in yours.”