Hunter entered his basement flat on London’s West End. It was small, cozy, and private. His phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

Mother . . . Why is she calling again? I need some rest.

“Yeah?” he said, answering.

“Why haven’t you called?” Dahlia said.

“My head was spinning from the travel and negotiations. I needed some much-deserved rest.”

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“Deserved? You’re lucky not to be detained,” Dahlia said.

“What—?”

Dahlia cut him off. “Black Iris is under attack. I’ve been shot at, burned, and almost blown up. Is that enough of an emergency for you?”

Hunter cringed at his mother showing this much emotion. He couldn’t remember the last time she was this angry.

“I need you to check the integrity of our Dark Web servers.”

“Hacking? That’s Jony’s department. Not my thing.”

“Jony does as he is told. So should you.”

Hunter winced as if in pain.

“After checking the servers, I need you to come to the chateau,” Dahlia demanded.

“Yes, Mummy. I will come as soon as I can,” Hunter said in a sarcastic tone.