Page 107 of Reckless Vow

He raises his eyebrow slightly, but keeps looking at me with a murderous expression. “Why do you think I took this meeting?”

I drum my fingers on my thigh. “Because I threatened you.”

I was desperate when I didn’t find him in New York, so I pushed for a meeting, suggesting I would expose his past to the media. A bluff.

I know little about his past, nothing tangible. I really took a risk with my threat to expose him.

“You have nothing on me.”

“Yet here I am.”

He scrutinizes me in silence, while an imaginary clock ticks off what feels like hours, not minutes.

“So I can say to your face that if you ever threaten my wife’s peaceful mind again, I will destroy you.” His promise is definite, and I have no doubt he means it. But if he finds the piece of shit, it’s all worth it. “With pleasure,” he adds.

Perhaps I went too far, threatening him. I have a feeling not many people dare to, but I doubt he invited me here just to deliver this threat.

Especially since I can hardly outsmart his skills. Which stinks a bit.

“What’s brought on your desperation?” he asks.

Ah, so it was curiosity that got me the invitation.

“A woman was assaulted. My woman.”

Not that I have a claim on her, but that’s irrelevant now.

Saying the words is like swallowing acid. They burn my throat and down my esophagus, slowly spreading into my already nauseated stomach. I haven’t eaten since I left Lisbon. Well, since breakfast with Chloe.

The calories in whiskey are not nutritious enough, but I’ll deal with that later.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m listening.”

I summarize all I know from Brook’s retelling, which isn’t much.

“That’s all?”

Art Mathison is the best when it comes to security and surveillance. Rumor is he got his billions as a hacker, but now deals in legal contracts only. Well, some are questionable.

Besides being the cyber security consultant for my business, he also takes care of the odd surveillance and information gathering project here and there.

Some of the people I deal with need encouragement before deciding what’s best for me and my business.

I’ve known the man for years, and never have I heard him say more than two sentences. He rubs me the wrong way with his entitled attitude, but he’s the only person who can get the job done.

Besides, the lack of information is a thrilling challenge for him, I’m sure. But I’ll indulge his bullshit for now. This isn’t the time for a pissing contest.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have more.”

“The victim—”

“Brook Lowe.”

“Is the subject we stopped following six months ago.”

“That’s correct.”

He cracks his knuckles. “Old flame?”

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