Weeks ago, Andrés Marin's right-hand woman had brought him a demand. Chi didn't push him often, but when she did, she didn't let up until he saw things her way.
"We need a tech expert, sooner rather than later. A proper hacker. Imogen has hired every bloody mercenary in London except you, along with paying off half the police force. If she's going brawn, we'll have to go brains to stay independent, let alone control the city. We have to play smarter. And now, Andrés."
Andrés had glared bloody murder at her for mentioning his mercenary past but she'd been right; she usually was, especially when she pushed. She was his number two for a reason. He'd ordered a search the next morning, having worked too hard to break away from Imogen Quinn's criminal organization to be pulled back into it through inaction.
Imogen had hit London's underworld hard after being dishonorably discharged from the British Armed Forces. He should know. She'd been his first boss when he arrived in the UK with nothing but a talent for organization and the skills he'd picked up during a stint in the Venezuelan Navy.
When they'd first gotten started, Imogen had been content with driving out rival gangs and buying off the police while pretending her security firm was only consulting for the rich and famous. She'd gone on to flood the streets with a new drug, Bliss, the use of which was swiftly becoming an epidemic.
Nobody had been able to finger her for it, but Andrés had been contacted about a transportation deal recently. He'd followed the chain of connections and knew who was behind the offer. It was Imogen's latest attempt to get under his skin and force him back.
It wasn't her only attempt. Her bribed political clout was blocking him from making the deals he needed to grow his company as she tried to drag him back into organized crime. Five years had passed and she was still enraged by his defection, taking it out on his assets since she didn't dare come after him in person.
Andrés's company, Surefire Industries, officially manufactured industrial electronics - a front for the unofficial business, custom weapons development. His smart weapons were nearly ready to go up for auction; his research and development team had catapulted that side of the business from a small custom shop to one with the potential to break into the big leagues.
Imogen couldn't have known about the weapons but her influence blocked him all the same, preventing him from making the preliminary steps in his new enterprise. She had to be shut down before she consolidated even more power. That meant following Chi's advice and taking Imogen out in a way that wouldn't involve bloodshed on the streets of London.
Finding a hacker good enough to be worth the risk and malleable enough to be managed was slow-going, though. They seemed to be an independent, anarchical group as a general rule and he needed to be assured of complete control. The search became damn near impossible when Andrés added his requirement that the candidate should be motivated by something other than money.
"Keep looking," he ordered his IT director after rejecting the latest batch and returning the tablet full of candidate profiles. "We can't afford to settle on this."
"Look, Marin, if we could -"
"I'm not adjusting the parameters," Andrés said. "This is too important. The wrong person will have access to our most sensitive data and I can't risk them going to the authorities or being bought off by Imogen. So stop. Asking."
Annoyance flared when Tchernov opened his mouth anyway. The man took the hint swimming behind Andrés's gaze and shut it. After a few swift taps on his tablet, he held out the device. "There's one more."
Andrés stared a moment longer, more to wrestle his temper into submission than to cow the IT manager further, then took the tablet.
He grunted in surprise at the profile. The picture at the top showed an attractive young woman, her complexion darker than his own bronzed tone, with dark hair cut in an angled bob, a blue streak in her bangs, and bright brown eyes. She grinned at something out of frame, cheeky and irreverent. A motorcycle helmet was tucked under one arm and a leather satchel hung from the other shoulder. Livia Hayes, 24, employed by the Delphi Commission.
"She's young," he said, annoyed by the stir of attraction rising in him and trying to create some mental distance as he skimmed the notes.
Tchernov shrugged. "Something of a prodigy, by all accounts."
"Your reservations?" Andrés prompted.
"She's a complete wild card. I can't figure out what motivates her. Her salary is shitty and she has several reprimands from what I could gather. Nothing keeping her at the Commission and several reasons to leave, but she stays. She'd be difficult to control and her government connection makes her a risk."
Pursing his lips, Andrés considered the profile a moment longer. "See what else you can find out." He couldn't risk having his careful plans upended, but Hayes seemed to be the most promising option yet. "This one is a step in the right direction. If you can't find another candidate we could approach with more certainty, we'll try her. There has to be something she wants enough to keep her mouth shut."
"On it, boss." Tchernov saw himself out of Andrés' office.
Sighing, Andrés stood to look out the window behind him. London lay spread below, stone and steel and glass in a contrast of visual textures next to the dull ribbon of the Thames under cloudy skies. With a view like this, it would be easy for a man to believe he'd succeeded in his ambitions.
He frowned. He had climbed higher than the boy he'd been had ever dreamed possible, but it wasn't enough. He still hungered.
For all he'd intended to run a legitimate business, he was certain he could manage London's underworld better than Imogen had since he'd left. She was fumbling opportunities and making enemies, wasting everything he'd once helped her build before seeing her for the petty tyrant she really was, getting out, and going legitimate.
Disgusted by the entire situation, Andrés threw himself back into his chair. "Get your mind back in the game, Marin," he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. "You don't have time for this."
He had two meetings to attend and three reports to review before the end of the day, plus one to submit. Then it was over to Perdition, the shithole strip club and bar where he did his off-the-record work, to fulfill his secondary role as an information broker for a couple of hours before meeting Zoë Lefevre for dinner.
Zoë. Andrés didn't like the woman, but bedding the London Dockmaster kept her in his pocket and more amenable to his suggestions than bribes alone. Business was booming and he had a few delicate shipments that would benefit from being overlooked at customs. If he played sugar daddy a little longer, she'd help him with that.
***
"I need another ten," Zoë said, lower lip pushed out in the pout he knew she thought was cute.
Andrés put his fork down, glancing around at the crowded restaurant. No-one was close enough to hear. "We'll talk about it later," he replied.
"But -"
"Later," Andrés insisted. Zoë stuck her lip out further before taking another bite of chicken. What could she possibly need another ten thousand pounds for, on top of the fifteen I already gave her?
They finished their meal with talk of the shipping industry and left. Zoë skimmed a hand down his flank to grip his cock through his jeans as they waited for a taxi.
Andrés sighed inwardly. Normally, he liked knowing he was desired but this was just so...desperate. It wasn't him she wanted, at least not as much as she wanted his money. He knew that, accepted it as part of doing business and keeping his shipments moving with increased efficiency and minimal inspection, but the artifice grated.
Outwardly, he gave her his second-best smile. "Looking for anything in particular?" he asked. Have to keep her sweet.
"I think you know," she purred. From anyone else, it probably would have been sexy but Andrés decided he'd had enough of Zoë. He needed that shipment through, but he'd find another way. This arrangement needed to end. He just had to figure out how to extract himself with the minimum impact to his business.
He was still working on the how of it when they got back to his Chiswick flat. Not his main residence, just a little thing he held on the side for liaisons like this. It wasn't the first time Zoë had been here but the way she waltzed in and dug in the fridge for a beer irritated Andrés.
He'd never invited her to make herself at home. They came here, had sex, and he made her leave, every time. She upset the careful order and control he maintained over every aspect of his work and private life. It was unbearable.
Zoë sipped her beer. "A key would be nice if we're going to see more of each other," she said. Long years of practice kept Andrés' internal disgust from showing on his face as he replied, "We'll have to see how things go."
"Always playing hard to get," she pouted. "Maybe this will change your mind." Setting the beer on the counter, Zoë knelt in front of him and undid his belt.
She might as well. He pulled out one of his seductive smiles when she looked up at him. It's the only way I'll be in the mood tonight. Andrés leaned back against the counter and tried to focus.
He was about to come when she pulled back. "Let's finish this upstairs."
Andrés gritted his teeth and forced another smile. Keep her sweet, I need that shipment in sooner rather than later and I need it to clear with no questions asked. She tried to kiss him when she stood and Andrés tilted his head to nip her neck instead. He was here to fuck, not for intimacy.
When they got upstairs he found a condom and tried to think of someone else. Zoë was eager, which helped; his imagination did the rest.
He slid into her slowly, face buried in her neck to avoid the kisses she tried to plant on his lips. When she pushed against him to roll them over and ride him he allowed it, filling his hands with her breasts and pinching the nipples. Not as hard as he wanted to, but hard enough that she gasped.
When they had both finished he carefully withdrew, holding the top of the condom around his cock before tugging it off, knotting it, and flushing it in the adjoining toilet. Not eco-friendly, but there was no way he was risking Zoë getting pregnant. The woman was crazy enough that she'd try it.
He threw himself onto the bed next to Zoë and closed his eyes, hoping she'd take the hint and fuck off. A long, manicured fingernail traced its way across his chest. "So...about that ten grand..."
Fury ignited in Andrés. He ground his teeth and exhaled slowly, seeking patience, before standing and going to the closet. He shut the door long enough to uncover and unlock the hidden safe, withdraw a stack of notes, and lock it again.
"Here," he said coldly, tossing it at her when he came out. She caught it, grinned, and ran a thumb over the stack to ruffle the bills. "And what about that key?" she asked with what Andrés was sure she intended to be an innocent smile.
Something about Zoë inspired cruelty. He always reined it in, kept it in check, but tonight the control he maintained did not extend to his tongue.
"Get out," he snapped. "We're not doing this. You've got your money. Go."
Zoë stared at him, jaw dropping as though he'd slapped her. "Andrés!" she gasped. "I thought -"
"Don't. Think," Andrés growled, striding around the bed and gathering her clothes. "Get dressed and get out. If you want to act like a whore, that's how I'll treat you." He shoved the messy bundle at her, shaking it when she continued to stare.
Disbelief morphed to rage. Zoë's pale features flushed nearly the bright red of her hair. "You'll regret this," she hissed, snatching her clothes and rising.
More than a hint of threat slipped back into the toothy smile he offered her. "Just remember, if you try to take me down, it will be mutually assured destruction. Try to find a brain cell somewhere."
Andrés bit his tongue before he could say the rest of what was on his mind. Chi would have a fit over what he'd said already; she'd disapproved of this whole plan of bedding Zoë for extra benefits from the beginning. He'd assumed it was Chi's general disinterest in sex that had driven her opposition but now he realized it was probably Zoë's volatility. Andrés had thought he could control the situation but it was likely unsalvageable now.
Should have listened to Chi. He rubbed his forehead. Just end it and be done with her.
Zoë opened her mouth as she jerked her jeans up around her hips, then shut it after a glance at his face. She finished dressing in silence, her green eyes seeming to throw sparks as she glared at him.
When she was clothed, Andrés gestured to the bedroom door with a sarcastic flourish. Zoë tossed her head and stomped toward the front door. Andrés didn't bother with clothes as he escorted her. "We're done, Zoë. And remember what I said," he reminded her. "Mutually assured destruction."
"Connard," she spat, throwing open the door and stalking out into the night.
In a rare fit of temper, Andrés slammed it shut behind her. Shit. He leaned against the door and counted to ten, going through breathing exercises to calm himself.
When blood no longer thundered in his ears, Andrés took one last deep breath and headed back upstairs. A shower will clear my mind. He'd need a game plan to deal with the inevitable fallout. A woman like Zoë wouldn't go quietly.
***
Andrés was combing through reports in his home office when he came across Chi's. He frowned. Chi Nonso was in deep cover, engaging in corporate espionage at IQ Security, and she shouldn't be contacting him directly. But this message had been bounced through so many dummy accounts that it was probably safe. He scanned it for malware anyway, then opened it when he found none.
< You need to try to locate a hacker called 'Glitch,' and soon. Whoever they are, Imogen is mad to get her hands on them. >
What would Imogen Quinn want with a hacker? She'd been recruiting thugs up until now. This sudden pivot concerned him. Either way, whatever the woman wanted was something he needed to block her from having.
With Tchernov hitting walls, he sent a query about Chi's Glitch to a tech expert he kept on retainer. The response came back later that evening. Glitch was relatively new to the dark web, but good. They'd had some success doxxing members of nationalist group KAP and cracking one of Trace Technology's automated defense systems, which were supposed to be unhackable. There were no public claims of responsibility, nor were there any notes suggesting Glitch engaged in the more mundane technological mischief most hackers seemed to delight in.
KAP members had committed hate crimes and Trace Tech had been accused of covering up what amounted to a war crime in Liberia. Whoever Glitch was, they seemed to follow a code, so perhaps they could be persuaded to go after Imogen.
Most important to Andrés, they seemed disinterested in taking credit for their past work. His man had had to make the tenuous connection to the KAP and Trace hacks based on rumors and ghosts in machines. There were no news stories about any of those exploits, no attempts to claim bug bounties, no social media chatter. Andrés flew under the radar and couldn't afford for it to be otherwise with those he contracted.
He leaned back and turned his chair to take in the city views, considering the angles on this. If Chi thought Imogen was going to beef up her cybersecurity, he had to cover the risk that she might have changed tactics and now be interested in taking a multi-pronged approach to her takeover of London. He needed to prepare for the fallout and then get ahead.
Livia Hayes might be some kind of hotshot, and he was still considering an attempt to lure her into the private sector, but the work his people did and the ways they got it done weren't all legal. If he made the wrong move, she had government resources and associations that would make his life and business inconvenient at best.
No. He'd try this Glitch first, if they could find contact information and frame the message right. This needed to be handled with care, an invitation to strike against a harmful element rather than a simple payday. Money would be part of the picture - it always was - but if he could get his hands on the data he needed to plan his next steps, it would be worth it. He just hoped Glitch would be up to the challenge.