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Gage Landon was making a scene.

Of course he was.

The security door buzzed open. Gage sauntered through, flanked by two stone-faced officers. His left eye was still purply black.

His stride faltered when he spotted Leo, surprise flashing across his face before his lip curled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gage turned to the nearest officer, a woman, as she unlocked the handcuffs. “I’ll wait for my actual ride, thanks.”

The female officer’s expression remained impassive. “Mr. Landon, your bail’s been posted by Mr. Bychkov. You’re free to go. Unless you’d prefer to stay in the holding cell?”

“Tempting.” Gage’s lips thinned, the corner of his lips twitching.

Leo looked away. He kept his eyes on the gouged wood of the counter, hoping if he stared hard enough, it might open up and swallow him.

Safer than saying something he’d regret.

The desk sergeant finished stamping forms and shoved a plastic evidence bag across the counter.

“Property receipt. Wallet. Watch. Two mobiles…” He paused, holding up a small leather roll. “And a set of lock picks.”

Gage took them with a lazy grin. “Strictly recreational.”

The sergeant deadpanned. “Sure they are.”

Once the handover was done, Leo didn’t look back. He pushed through the doors and walked straight to the obsidian Jaguar F-PACE parked at the curb.

“Well, well.” Gage’s voice drawled from behind him. “Breaking out the fancy wheels for little old me? I’m touched.”

Leo unlocked the car. “Get in.”

“No,how was your night, Gage?Orsorry about the shiner?” He circled the Jag, giving it a theatrical once-over. “Stolen?”

“Rental.” Leo slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was cool. His skin was not.

Gage sprawled into the passenger seat, immediately shoving it all the way back. “Twenty hours in a holding cell forallegedlyhacking Transport for London.” His tone was breezy, but his eyes were sharp. “They could’ve at least made the charge interesting.”

Leo checked his mirror. Said nothing.

Gage studied him for a beat, then looked away. “Must’ve been worth it if they’re getting this desperate.”

Leo grunted.

“Bit ostentatious.” Gage ran a finger along the polished dash. “Might as well slap on a bumper sticker that saysNotice me, security services.”

Leo started the engine. “In London, SUVs are like Toyota Camrys. They blend.”

“Oh, he speaks.” Gage drummed fingers against the door. “And knows a thing or two about urban camouflage. Impressive.”

Leo pulled away from the curb, focusing on the traffic instead ofcalculating exactly how much force it would take to eject Gage through the windshield.

“So...” Gage ran his hand over the leather upholstery. “Nice ride. Guardsmen Security must be doing well. Just FYI—my sister doesn’t give a shit about your bank account.”

Leo gripped the steering wheel, half-convinced he would crack it.

“Silent treatment?” Gage nodded. “Classic. Quite effective on low-level criminals and first-dates. Less so on me.”

“I’m driving.” Leo kept his voice even. “Would you prefer I hit something while talking?”