Page 60 of Wilde and Deadly

Rowan’s pulse kicked up. Atlas Frost wasn’t just a name in the criminal underworld—hewasthe underworld. Smuggler. Broker. Black-market financier. He had his hands in everything from corporate espionage to weapons deals. And while his businesses weren’t always legal, they weren’t alwaysillegaleither.

Wilde Security had even used him in the past.

Hell, for that matter, so had her father.

She turned to Davey. “So is Frost trying to destabilize WSW to move into the security sector?”

Davey rubbed a hand along his jaw. “That’s not his style. He only deals in information and money. He’s a computer nerd?—”

“Hey,” Benji said, offended. “We nerds can be plenty dangerous.”

They both ignored him.

“He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty,” Davey finished.

Rowan frowned. “Then why would he put out a contract on you?”

Davey’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” He looked at Benji. “You’re sure about this?”

Benji held up his hands. “Hey, I just follow the money. And it all leads back to Frost. What he wants with you two, how should I know? I’m just a computer nerd. But if you want to pay me a bit more… let’s say… $500? I can tell you where he’s gonna be tomorrow night.”

“Nice try,” Davey said, pulling out his phone. “But I already know.”

Rowan arched an eyebrow. “You do?”

Davey nodded, tapping at his phone screen. “The Arctic Preservation & Climate Resilience Gala. It’s being held at the Plaza tomorrow night. Frost never misses a charity event. He likes to rub elbows with New York’s elite.”

Benji huffed, snapping his laptop closed. “Well, there goes my leverage.”

Davey glanced up from his phone, a slight smirk on his lips. “Looks like you’ll have to settle for the original deal, Benji-boy.”

Benji grumbled something under his breath as he shoved his laptop into its case.

Rowan ignored him and looked up the event on her phone. “It’s black tie, invite-only. We’ll need a way in.”

“Luckily, I have an aunt who loves a party and a rich uncle who loves her enough to indulge her. If Uncle Reece doesn’t already have tickets, he can get them for us.” Davey lifted his phone to his ear, his expression unreadable as he waited for his uncle to pick up. After a moment, his face shifted into an easy smile. “Uncle Reece? It’s Davey. Listen, I need a favor…”

As he walked a few paces away from the loud dryers, Rowan turned back to Benji, who was now shoving his laptop into a ratty backpack with unnecessary force. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash she owed him.

“Hey,” she said, catching his attention. “You did good, Benji. This is the lead we needed.”

He paused, then snatched the envelope with a slightly mollified expression. “Yeah, well, just remember our deal. I want that protection detail set up ASAP.”

“We got tickets,” Davey said as he came back. “If you want protection, you need to come with us now.”

Benji glanced at the still-rumbling dryer. “But my hoodie…”

“Forget the damn hoodie,” Davey snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Unless you want to be wearing it in your casket.”

Benji's eyes widened behind his glasses. He swallowed hard, then nodded. “Right. Okay. Let me just...” He fumbled for the dryer door, yanking it open and grabbing his damp hoodie.

Rowan rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Benji clutched the hoodie to his chest. “What? It’s my lucky hoodie.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Davey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just move your ass.”

They hustled Benji out of the laundromat and into the backseat of Davey’s vintage Mustang.

---