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who he is and what he does. But there is no rationality for it. He's greedy. Feels he hasn't gotten his just due in the world, so he chose to do something like this. That's it. There was no rationalizing anything."

Amelia was out of patience. "A name."

She laughed. "Sure love. The name that you're looking for is Garreth Jameson."

Next to me, East cursed. Denning frowned. "Does that name mean something to you, Hale?"

East shook his head. "We've been in the same social circles, but he's no friend of mine."

"Oh, that's right. Isn't he one of your secret society knobheads? Went to Eton and all that. All the right schools, all the right connections."

East just gave him a withering look. "Are you done? Because I think Nyla wants to hear the rest of this."

I was leaning forward, trying to piece together what the fuck was going on. I suddenly sat straighter when I realized the Collins ballerina painting we found at her storage was the original. The fake was hanging across from Lord Jameson’s office. If dear old dad was Henry Warlow and he'd been duped by his own son, when he found out, that was going to be a problem.

I glanced at East, whose focus was on the interview inside. He also understood the implications.

Garreth Jameson had known all along who his father really was. He'd been duping his father. How many pieces from the estate were in that warehouse? Thinking about it made my head hurt.

All that time we'd been chasing our tails, when all along, Denning's girlfriend had been playing us for fools. Wow. I slid my gaze to him, and his jaw was tight. His eyes narrowed, as if he was running through every scenario where he could have seen the real her and was coming up blank.

Denning had been the world's biggest asshole, but Jesus Christ, no one deserved that.

I watched Amelia interrogate Not Hazel, and she was a star. Full on, giving no quarter, take no prisoners, a fucking rock star.

"So you mean to tell us that all this time, you've been masquerading in order to determine if Interpol was getting close to catching you?"

"It needed to be done."

"What's the depth of your relationship with Agent Sinclair?"

Not Hazel laughed. "There is no depth to our relationship. Let's not get excited here. He was a mark. All of you people were marks, and I got past you. Every last one. I get it. No one wants to look like a fool. Don't take it personally. I'm just very, very good."

Amelia glanced up at the one-way glass, and Denning cursed. "I just texted headquarters. We're going after Jameson."

I jumped at the possibility.

"Oh, I want in on that."

He frowned at me. "The hell you are."

"My father is in the hospital. We have one of the perpetrators responsible. I just can't sit here and let the likes of them get away with it. If there's something I can do, anything, I'm going to do it."

Denning laughed. "No way in hell. You're still on light duty. No one is going to touch you. And with your father out of commission, I'm the lead agent in charge."

"Oh yeah, Denning? For how long? Because if it's not yet common knowledge that you gave away intel to that woman in there, it will be. Sir, you're on a tightrope. You can play big man all you want, but it's not going to happen. I'm in on this."

Denning slid a glance to East. "Control her, please."

East's growl was feral behind me. "She is not going to be controlled. That woman shot her father. That woman that you fucked when you managed to get it up. So you are going to do what she wants. Let her at least bring the case to a close."

"She needs to be on the Theroux case."

East laughed. "Theroux has nothing to do with this. That's your perpetrator right there in that room, her and Garreth Jameson. If you don't listen to Nyla, that's your career. Don't say I didn't warn you."

He wrapped his arms around me then. "Come on, let's go check on your father. I'll have him transferred to a hospital near home as soon as he's stable."

East Hale was forever born to look after me. He was going to give me everything I needed, and I would never have to ask for it. That was the kind of man I needed, and I loved him.

* * *

East

But there would be no moving the old man.

The moment the doctor came around the corner, Nyla knew. She let go of my hand, and I felt the draft of coldness settle in immediately.

The doctor was speaking, but it was Nyla I watched as he said the words, “I’m so sorry. We did everything that we could.”

Her normally strong body crumpled. I expected her to cry, to wail… something. But she sat mute and bereft.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat in the hall like that, on the floor, me rocking her, hushing her with what were meant to be soothing words. And that was how she sat until I pulled her to her feet.

By the time we returned to the penthouse in London, she was completely silent. She hadn't wanted to leave, but I forced the issue because she needed sleep, and food, and time to process. I could kill the old man for leaving her after dropping a secret like that on her. All those years, she'd known him as her father. But he wasn't. Which led to nothing but questions. And all this time he'd said nothing. Just treated her like she was never going to be good enough.

If he wasn’t already gone, I could kill him.

I winced at that thought. She didn't need that from me while she was grieving. She needed someone to take care of her, which I was more than happy to do. I was worried though.

Livy had called. Telly had come over with her wife, Carmen. Brought food. They'd sat with

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