Page 42 of Queen Crow

Lips was obviously my first choice, but there’s no way we could’ve taken the flight with just the two of us, there’s no way our family would let us go alone, and I need someone to stay with Atticus until he can get dressed without having to sit down halfway through the experience to catch his breath from the pain.

Aodhan is still busy on his trip to sort out the dock issues, so my next choice is to take Ash. He’s not happy about leaving Lips behind, but he also trusts Morrison and Harley to keep an eye on her, so we take the Beaumont private jet and enjoy a quiet flight together like old times.

Except without Joey we do actually enjoy it.

The car that Arias sends to pick us up from the airport is manned by two heavily armed men who walk around the city as though no one will care that they’re carrying enough ammunition to take out a mall full of people.

Ash doesn’t react to them at all, his entire body is casual and carefree as he helps me into the car and then settles in after me. I keep my phone in my pocket and my eyes on the streets as we drive, confident in everything that we have prepared for today's meeting. Lips and I have spent too much time prepping together for this and she’s back at home right now dealing with more than enough bullshit.

All I have to do is meet with this man.

It’s nothing really.

We’re driven for over an hour through the streets of the city until we arrive at the harbor full of million-dollar yachts and catamarans. There could easily be a billion dollars’ worth of vessels here, all of them with full-time staff members and the annual spending of a small country in upkeep.

“We need a boat.”

Ash follows my gaze to the catamaran on the end with the hammocks on the front. I can see him imagining Lips lounging there in some tiny bikini, it’s easy to spot with the unchecked lust filling his eyes. “Get one then, but you should check that no one in the family gets seasick first. It might ruin the getaway if our friends are puking off of the sides while we’re trying to anchor for the night.”

It’s a possibility.

I start to have my own little fantasies of fucking Atticus on one of those hammocks too, or riding Aodhan’s cock on the main deck under the night’s sky, and it’s all very enticing.

Also a complete dream because there’s no way that I could get them both on the boat at the same time… or get Ash to disappear for long enough for me to fuck them in all of the places I want to fuck them.

I still want a boat though.

The car pulls up and parks in front of the yacht at the end. It’s a super yacht, the biggest one here, and I immediately want it. There’s some Spanish words on the side of it, I memorize them to Google later, but no nuclear weapons are strapped to the side or any other warning signs.

I’m not stupid.

I know there’s a danger to being here, I’m well aware that we’re here to meet with a Colombian drug lord and that he could murder us both without any repercussions.

I also know the information we’ve sent ahead of ourselves will buy us enough time to convince him not to kill us.

“This is it. Señor Arias will see you here,” the driver says, and the guy in the front seat chuckles like they really think we’re children here to die for stumbling into something much bigger than we are.

Typical.

I wait for Ash to get my door for me, taking his arm when he offers it because the dock is slippery underfoot. Both of the men make faces at his chivalry, joking in rapid Spanish with each other as they lead the way.

We walk up the ramps and board the super yacht, finding the main deck full of more armed men standing alongside the crew and watching us like we’re prey.

If there is anyone on this Earth with an icy cold poker face as good as my own, it’s Ash. I watch as they all size him up in that ultra-masculine and completely bullshit way that all gangsters have, their chests puffed out and hips tilted like they want you to think their dicks are huge.

Ash doesn’t flinch or react, the aloof and bored look still fixed to his face, and when he undoes one of his suit jacket buttons to comfortably slide his free hand into his pocket, their eyes all drop to the guns strapped in holsters at his waist.

There’s three others hidden expertly on his body, thanks to Lips and Illi’s fussing before we’d left.

I also have quite the arsenal strapped to me and, once again, I’m wearing bulletproof body armor under my sleek white coat. The wind here is cold enough that it doesn’t look out of place and, paired with the right shoes, I just look like a wealthy socialite out for a nice stroll on a friend’s super yacht.

It’s all about smoke and mirrors.

“This way, Miss Beaumont. It’s been some time since we’ve enjoyed the company of a Beaumont onboard. Your father was once a very welcome guest,” the captain says, his lips turned down in disapproval, so it’s very clear that Senior did something to get himself removed from the guest list.

I wonder if it was murder or fucking the Señor’s daughter?

I smile prettily and thank him anyway, playing along perfectly. Ash remains very calm and stoic. Whatever conversations Lips has been having with him, they’re working, and I owe her something magnificent for them.