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“I’d rather not find out what it’s like to work with them in this instance. I don’t want any bottlenecks,” Bryce says.
“There’s only one thing you need before the Croatian police is willing to move in on Brad.”
Bryce’s blue eyes narrow in on his brother. “What’s that?”
“I need undeniable confirmation it’s Brad Hyler and not someone who looks like him,” Liam says. “Right now, you have circumstantial evidence— Elijah Michael is in Croatia. It could be any Elijah Michael. I need it to be Bradley Elijah Michael Hyler. The guy is traveling with two passports and two different names. This needs to be bullet proof.”
Bryce ponders on his brother’s request. “We have people trailing him. We should be able to figure something out.”
Liam leans into his desk, placing his elbows against the surface, intertwining his fingers together. “It has to be above board.”
Bryce lifts his hands in truce. “There will be no broken bones or bloodied nose.”
“Promise? I’m putting my neck out for you.”
“I never renege on my word,” Bryce says. The tension in the room reaching new heights. “You know that about me, Liam.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a jab.
Smoothing out the floral purple dress I selected for the meeting, I lean against my seat, my eyes shifting to Bryce’s ex-wife.
Through her perfectly elongated eyelashes, she’s staring right back at me.
She sizes me up, her resting bitch face firmly in place.
I return the favor.
You don’t have a right to shoot daggers at me. You cheated on him.
“What about the money Brad stole,” Liam asks.
My attention snaps to him.
“We haven’t been able to track it down yet,” Bryce says. “The fact he’s been operating under two names and two different passports, complicate things. My team is backtracking his steps since he left New York. I have a member of my team dedicated to piecing together Brad’s history. She confirmed it’s a puzzle witnessing pieces. Conclusion, we’re not there yet, but we’ll get there. When we do, can you freeze his assets?”
Liam nods. “I can make the necessary calls.”
“Good,” Bryce says.
“The man should be castrated,” Liam says.
“We agree on that,” Bryce says.
“I had a similar case about six months ago,” Sibyl says, “and I was successfully able to cut the idiot’s money supply. The French police nabbed him, stranded in Monaco without any money, with a crushing casino tab.” She shakes her head, her lips twisted. “I hate scumbags.”
I wouldn’t want to be going up against her.
“Anything else?” Liam asks.
Bryce shakes his head. “Not for now. Thanks, Liam. I appreciate this a lot.”
“Don’t mention it, Bryce.”
“Can I ask a question?”
Liam adjusts his glasses. “Of course.”
“Why did you agree to help? We’ve been estranged for years.”
