Page 15 of Bitter Lies

As we round the corner, the gallery door comes into view. It’s where Rico took us to inspect the painting. It’s quite impressive. Climate-controlled, sensors on the walls and floors. After seeing the collection housed there, I understand why the Lopez’s guard it like they do.

Breaking into that room undetected will require the skills of a professional. Mine are amateur at best… but I might know someone.

Reaching the end of the hall, we turn left. A door opens behind us and instinct has me glancing back.

I stop dead, unable to move. The air electrifies, bringing my senses to an alertness I can’t ignore.

Seconds later she steps out, and the moment her eyes lock on mine, the air shifts.

What the fuck is Izzy doing here?

Surprise hits her just as hard. Her lips part, her body going still, like she’s caught in the same pull. Then an older woman hurries over, stealing her attention.

Just like that, our connection breaks, giving me the chance to walk away.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Trent grumbles from the front door. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just doing my job. Memorizing.” I grab the door and nod him through, forcing my focus back where it belongs. “Let’s go. I need to pick up Silas in an hour. You know how he hates it when I’m late.”

Chapter 7

Isabel

After answering my grandmother’s question about lunch, I turn. He’s gone.

What the hell is Aiden doing here?

The question won’t leave me alone. Circling back again and again. Dragging with it the memory of his intense chocolate eyes on mine.

I want answers, and I want them now, which is why I march my way toward my grandfather’s office and knock on his closed door. He tries to ignore me, but I’m persistent. I know he’s inside.

I came here earlier to question him about the emerald but stopped when I heard voices.

Was he meeting with Aiden? Why?

Irritation prickles, not at the situation, but at how easily my focus keeps drifting back to him. His handsome face, always deep in thought. The way he confidently carries himself, owning the room. The dark shadow of stubble lining his sharp jawline. He’s a man who demands attention, and dammit, he’s captured mine.

After my third round of knocking, my grandfather finally opens the door. He doesn’t look happy, but that’s not my problem. “What the hell is so damn important? I’m very busy, Isabel.”

“The man who just left. Who is he?” I don’t wait for permission. As soon as space allows, I slip inside.

“That’s not your concern.” He exhales sharply, the sound laced with annoyance. “By all means, come inside and have a seat. It’s not like I have other commitments.”

Taking a seat, I get comfortable, planning on staying long enough to get answers. “It’s my concern when you bring men like him here. Now tell me who he is and why he was here.”

“Mr. Doyle was here to discuss a business venture he wanted my help with.” Realizing I’m not leaving, he takes a seat behind his desk and picks up his cigar. “I turned him down. He left.”

So, Aiden was here with Silas Doyle. The rumors Jen didn’t believe must hold some merit.

That should be enough to shut this down. There’s no world where my family would approve of me involved with a man tied to the Irish mob.

And yet…

I can still feel the way he looked at me. The way my body responded like it knew something my mind hasn’t caught up to yet. I’m intrigued by him. Enough to wonder just how far I’ll let him push me.

I should walk away. Find someone else. Someone safer. But deep down, I already know… no one else will make me feel the way he does.

It bloody fucking sucks bollocks.