The London fog hung low over the Thames, wrapping the city in a bleak, gray shroud. Julian’s private helicopter touched down on the exclusive Vauxhall helipad with a deafening roar, the blades slicing through the heavy mist.
As soon as the doors slid open, a wall of black-suited security detail surrounded us, umbrellas raised against the freezing drizzle. Julian stepped out first, his jaw set in a rigid line, completely ignoring the weather. He reached back, his massive hand gripping mine firmly to pull me down onto the slick tarmac.
"The maritime court hearing is at eleven," Julian said, his voice easily cutting through the thrum of the idling engine as we walked briskly toward a waiting convoy of armored black SUVs. "Our legal team has already prepared the counter-injunction, but Tyler
