Page 39 of Ring of Ruin


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“Not true, given the quality of some of the thieves they’ve sent against me.”

“I suspect they were underestimating you. I also suspect they are no longer doing so.”

I suspected he was right, especially after last night’s events. Sgott might have found some trace evidence, but they’d gotten in and out very quickly, despite finding time to murder Vincentia. That suggested they were—for the moment, at least—doing their best to avoid another confrontation with me.

It wouldn’t last. I felt that with every inch of my being.

“I take it there’s no official record of him owning this posh place, so how did you—or your father—learn about it?”

“An informant.” He shrugged. “More than that, I do not know.”

“A trusted informant? Because the suspicious part of my brain is instantly thinking trap.”

“My father said the source was reliable.”

“So why isn’t he sending his people over to check it out?”

“Because I expressed a desire to investigate.” Though his expression didn’t change, ice crept into his eyes. “They have tried to kill me twice. There will be no third time, Bethany.”

I believed him. I also believed that the Looisearch would never face the courts or sentencing. Not the legal courts, anyway. Cynwrig and Mathi were one in that aim, even if Mathi hadn’t yet admitted it.

I pushed to my feet. “I’ll have to go upstairs to grab my coat and keys. You can stay here.”

“I have no intentions of seducing—”

“And tonight, the moon will fall from the sky and never rise again.”

His smile was decidedly wicked, and my pulse rate did its usual dance. “One day, you will give in to the fire that remains between us.”

“You just can’t accept the fact that I was the one who made the break, not you.” I made a shooing motion. “Back away so I can get out.”

He made a somewhat aggrieved-sounding sigh—which was muted by the glimmer in his bright eyes—and obeyed. I ran up the stairs, hastily collected my knives, coat, and a credit card in case I needed money, then grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to Lugh. If there was one thing I’d learned over the past few weeks, it was that I needed to let people know where I was going. If things went wrong—and they often had—then at least they’d know where to start looking.

I clattered back down the stairs and met Mathi at the bottom. “Are we walking over there?”

“In this weather? You jest.”

I glanced toward the front windows in surprise. Though they were protected by the first-floor row, it was absolutely pelting down in the street beyond.

“I had no idea it was even raining.”

“That’s what you get for having your eyes glued to a computer screen half the day.”

“It’s called work, Mathi. You should try it occasionally.”

He grinned. “I was there yesterday. They don’t need me there today.”

I rolled my eyes and waved him on. “Lead the way then.”

“A gentleman never walks in front of a lady.”

“Given I’m no lady and you’re no gentleman, that shouldn’t be a problem for either of us."

He laughed, and we headed out. His driver was waiting at the rear door with a couple of umbrellas, so the dash to the car wasn’t as wet as it might otherwise have been.

The traffic was light, so it didn’t take us all that long to get across the river. Earl’s Court was a wide, leafy street filled with a mix of old and new housing stock, with those on the right side of the street possessing million-dollar views over the park and river.

Aram’s place was a handsome, red-brick period townhouse on the river side of the street. There were no cars in the driveway, but the electric gates were open.

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