My father shoots Vas a look. “You didn’t tell her that part?”
Vas chuckles lightly. “Hadn’t gotten that far.”
Liam curses under his breath.
“You want me to go on a date with the guy who had a hand in covering up my mother’s murder?” Disbelief is written over my entire face in red permanent marker. “He’s old and crunchy.”
The two men choke on their breakfast.
Serves them right.
Vas coughs, pounding on his chest to dislodge whatever is stuck. His fucking ego, probably. Devious bastard.
“With his son,” my father placates in a hoarse voice. “Jaysus. What kind of father do you take me for?”
“Eh.” I shake my hand side to side. “So-so.”
“So-so?” he repeats slowly. “I am not so-so.”
“Then where’s my pony?”
Vas snorts into his coffee cup and coughs.
“You want a pony?” he asks seriously. “I’ll get you a pony. Fuck, I’ll buy you an entire stable.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh.
“I don’t need a pony.”
He doesn’t look convinced. Shit. What if he actually buys me a stable full of horses?
Wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Except—I don’t know anything about horses.
And I am pretty sure I’m allergic to hay.
“Alright,” Vas intercedes. “Moving on.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “Why do I have to go on a date with crusty’s son?”
Leaning back in his chair, Vas fixes his gaze on me. “It’s not a date, Ava,” he assures me. “It’s a business meeting. Matthias has always vocalized his disdain for Platinum Security publicly. We need you to convince him we want to partner with him.”
“Why? What’s the end game?”
“Jameson O’Neill built his company with money stained in your mother’s blood,” Vas explains gently. “Not only that, but there is evidence that his company is working with whoever has been shipping women for auction.”
That is suspicious. Where did he come up with that information?
“Who told you that?”
“Mark’s been digging into their background and clients.” Vas waves his hand dismissively. A sure sign he is hiding something from me. But why? “If we can make him believe that you don’t have the same scruples as Matthias, maybe we can get some insight into who they are working for.”
“The Dollhouse.” Why is he repeating information? We’ve already been over this.
“We think the Dollhouse is just one facet to something larger that we can’t see,” Vas informs me. “Have you ever heard ofPotestas Omnis?”
I snort. “Impotus Omnissounds more appropriate if you ask me.”