Page 25 of Bitter Lies

“Who is he?” Lawrence sounds fed up with having to repeat himself. “Did you notice the gun under his suit coat?”

From the second row, Sasha turns around, eager to chime in. “His name is Aiden Bishop. He handles security for Silas Doyle, the man you met tonight. Though I doubt that’s all he does for the Doyles.”

Lawrence leans forward, eyes wide as he stares at me. “Wait! You met Silas Doyle, the Irish mob heir? Him?”

Trinity’s head jerks in my direction, her eyes big as saucers. “Did you know this?”

Okay, so maybe not all of us knew what Silas looked like. Trinity isn’t as observant as I am. Raised in a privileged world, just not the same way I was, no one taught her why she needs to know. Probably because she’s never been through the shit my family had because of men like him.

With all the buzz on social media about his new London art gallery, I thought she’d recognized him. Apparently not. According to protesters, it’s a front for the Irish mob. Money laundering. Stolen art. The works. They’ve even taken it public, demanding justice.

Silas denies it. He claims they’re replicas—a common practice—allowing those who can’t travel the world to still get to experience them.

I’m not sure what to believe, but I’m curious.

“Yes. I recognized him from all the buzz about his new gallery,” I admit. “Sasha confirmed it after they left us.”

I hesitate, then decide to share what I know about Aiden. “Jen mentioned he was in the SBS until a bullet shattered his knee, ending his career. She thinks there’s more to it… that he wouldn’t be working for the Doyles without a good reason.”

My words don’t lessen the tension vibrating through the air. All anyone can see is a man with red flags surrounding him. What I think, see, or feel doesn’t bloody matter.

“All I know is what the intel says. I did my own digging after our first run-in.” Sasha waves her tablet to show me she’s reading straight from it. “I wanted to be prepared if he came back. Don’t look at me like that. That’s my job.”

I roll my eyes because I can. “Go on. Tell me everything you found, since you went behind my back and did exactly what I told Marty not to do.”

Sasha doesn’t look guilty. She knows she did the right thing. As head of my team, it’s her job to investigate anything or anyone that raises concerns.

“There’s some shady history I plan on looking deeper into. He has a juvenile record. After tonight, I doubt he’s an upstanding citizen. My job is to keep you safe. And Mr. Bishop isn’t someone I trust being around you.”

“I agree.” Lawrence adds his two cents, even though no one asked for it. “The man works for the Irish mob. I’m pretty sure your brothers would object.”

There’s no point arguing with them. They only see the man Aiden portrays, not the man he shows me.

“Well then. I guess it’s a good thing we were interrupted.” The sarcasm in my voice must be noticeable because Ryan speaks next.

“I don’t trust him, either. He’s bad news.”

Done with this conversation, I turn my attention back to the window.

I agree with Jen. There’s something else going on with Aiden and the Doyles. Something that doesn’t quite add up.

I can’t explain it, but when I’m around him, I don’t feel threatened. Well, at least not from the kind of danger everyone else sees.

No… what I feel is far worse. Like I’m one poor decision away from letting him strip away my control, make me give in, to see just how far he’d take things if I let him.

When I look into his eyes, what I see isn’t a dark soul. I see him.

Maybe I’m crazy.

But maybe I’m not.

No one speaks. The weight of it lingers, settling over the car like a thick fog. By the time we reach Trinity’s, the silence has swallowed us whole.

When we pull up to the curb, Lawrence gets out before her. “I’ll make sure she gets in safely. You don’t need to wait. I’ll call an Uber.”

I’m sure he will, but I’m also betting that Uber isn’t called until morning.

“Be careful.” I lean over to hug Trinity before she slides out behind him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”