Declan and Finn stand in the center of the room, their faces unreadable as they speak in low voices to Theo King.
And King of London he will be, if we have anything to say about it.
“Theo, meet Conan. Our youngest brother,” Declan says.
I stride forward and hold out my hand. He shakes it firmly.
“You boys did a good job with this,” Theo says, his thick British accent smooth enough to mask the menace underneath.
It gives me chills.
I remind myself he isn’t Arthur.
He’s the key to Arthur’s final downfall.
“Our pleasure,” I say, grinning.
“Now, when can I take out their leader?” I ask, rubbing my hands together.
Theo smirks, brushing a hand through his black hair.
Everything about him is too perfect—the clean shave, the polished loafers, the tailored black suit.
The only giveaway is the tattoos on his neck and the scars across his knuckles.
“Patience isn’t Conan’s strong suit. But this time I agree with him,” Finn adds, voice low. “We need to act with haste to eliminate Arthur.”
I glance at Finn, surprised.
He never backs me up on this shit.
I nod once in gratitude.
Theo tilts his head, studying us.
“We have one final card to play back in London. Once that’s in place, I’d be more than happy for you to come and finish the job.”
“How soon?” I press.
Declan shoots me a look.
I know what he’s thinking.
You’ve got a baby on the way. Slow the fuck down.
“Within the year,” Theo says calmly. “Declan and Finn have filled me in on the details. I understand. But if I negotiate this carelessly with the King elders, we risk everything. I’m going for a full London takeover. That starts with eliminating Arthur’s father, Charles.”
I blow out a slow breath. He makes sense.
“That’ll cause war,” I say.
Theo’s grin is all teeth. The kind that makes a man’s blood run cold.
“I know. And that’s where you come in.”
“You think the elders will go for your plan?” Declan asks.
“You give me the shipping routes and distribution lines here, then yes. It proves we can work with the Quinns instead of the Bowens.”