Page 133 of Knights Game

“I recognise that man though. He approached me at the gala dinner, his name’s—”

“Terry fucking Peyton.” I sneer.

“You know him!”

“He’s my uncle’s government contact.” Jesus fucking Christ. “Come on.” I hand her the folder.

“What? Where are we going?”

“Back to the penthouse.” I message everyone to meet me at mine then dial Kara Snow from Apex security.

“Snow.” I say as the phone connects, no hello, no greeting, but I know she’s there. “I’m calling in the favour.”

“I’m listening.” Her voice is deep and raspy, I can imagine her feet tipped up on a table, her outfit black as she waits for the next call with her next target.

“Any new contracts through in the last few days?”

“Any name I should be looking for in particular?”

“Layla Johnson.”

“Hold.” The phone goes dead, and I put it back in my pocket rubbing at my temples.

“What the hell is going on?” Layla asks, arms folded.

“I’m not entirely sure. But I’m going to find out.”

I can’t stop staring at the picture of my mother and Layla’s parents, the undrunk glass of whiskey tight in my hand.

The door to my study opens. “They’ve found Alexander Lebedev,” Roman says, closing the door behind him. “They’re bringing him here.”

“Good.” I lean back in my office chair the thing that usually makes me feel settled and in control, doing the exact opposite this evening. “Make sure they use the back entrance. The women are not to see.”

“Understood.” He walks towards me, taking in my dishevelled appearance, the picture I grip furiously, “What’s going on?”

“Where’s Henry?”

“Where he’s supposed to be.” He tilts his head; I meet his penetrating stare and swallow down the amber liquor in one gulp.

“Get him here, I need him.”

“Luca.”

I throw the picture on the desk and lean back on an exhalation. “Look.”

He sits down in the chair opposite, leaning forward to retrieve it. His eyes fall on my mother’s face, and he frowns.

“The people she’s with are Layla’s parents.”

His head whips up. “This is what she found?”

I lean forward on my elbows, my chin resting on my steepled fingers. “I always knew there was more to my mother’s death than John let on. Now that picture pretty much cements it. She was killed.”

“By John?”

“Whatever Layla’s parents were investigating involved the Covenant, maybe they had something. It’s the only reasonable explanation.”

I pull out my phone.

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