Page 294 of Lodestar

“Joking aside, we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Agreed.”

Her mouth turned taut. “Can one of the guards drive Katina back home tonight?”

“Of course.” With her fingers still knotted with mine, I squeezed them gently, pulsing them twice in reassurance. “We can end them this week.”

“Wewillend them this week,” she rumbled, her gaze dark as it locked on mine before it darted away.

As she frowned, I twisted and saw that Aoife had stumbled into the room, her features blanched. “Aoife? What is it? What’s wrong?”

She staggered over to the couch and passed her cell to me.

Concerned, I flicked a look between it and her then read the text conversation.

“Need to meet,” Star repeated, her confusion clear. “From…?”

Aoife’s eyes clenched.

“Your father,” I answered for her.

“We’ve started talking but he…” Her mouth worked. “Wecan’tmeet. For obvious reasons.”

Considering what we’d just been discussing…

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I commented.

“Me either. Fuckers,” Star agreed grimly. “It stinks of leverage. This is either a trap or they’re trying to offset guilt by shifting most of the upcoming news cycle on the president’s secret love child than on them.”

Aoife blanched at our rundown, sagging back into the couch with wide, scared eyes that made me want to hurt Smythe and Foundry more than I already did.

“That’s a grandiose assumption seeing as they kill first, ask questions later,” I remarked.

“DeLaCroix was arrested, Reinier’s disappeared, and there’s an Interpol department being established as we speak… They must think we don’t want their blood, just their asses in a jail cell.”

There was no arguing with that logic so I shot her a smirk. “How foolish of them.”

Her dark eyes turned flat. “Perfect, more like.”

9

STAR

“Mr. President,it’s an honor to meet you.”

Davidson, two steps inside the hotel room, froze at the sound of my voice. “Who are you?”

“I’m here on Aoife’s behalf.” I arched a brow at him from my seat in one of the suite’s armchairs.

“She didn’t want to see me?”

“She didn’t feel like being at the center of a media storm. Not sure I could blame her.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “And who are you?”

“My name’s Star Sullivan.”

Davidson rested his hands against the back of an antique sofa and leaned into it. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

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