Page 80 of Villainous Fate

“No, that’s perfect. I’m ready to dive in. Where should I meet you?” I ask, finishing the food on my plate and swallowing down the cold acidity of my fresh-squeezed orange juice.

“Grand staircase in forty-five minutes,” he replies before getting up, chucking the apple core into the trash, and waltzing out.

Luca always seems to be in a great mood. He carries himself with such incredible energy that I wonder how Deacon can be so strikingly opposite.

Though Juliet and I are polar opposites, maybe it’s just a sibling thing.

I hurry to clean off my plate and tray, shouting a quick thank you into the kitchen to Bernadette, whom I plan to become absolutely thick as thieves with if she keeps cooking food like this every day. Then, I jog up to my room to get cleaned up before my first official Alpha meeting.

Forty minutes later, I stand waiting at the second-floor landing of the grand staircase. Growing up, my dad always emphasized that being on time was a sign of respect. When you show someone you are willing to show up as promised or when needed, you establish an understanding based on respect.

I don’t think he had ever been late a day in his life. Even as an emergency surgeon who was on call nights, weekends, and holidays, If he said he would be there in thirty minutes. He was there in twenty-five and ready to save a life.

It frustrated the crap out of me when I was younger, and we would wait for other people who weren’t on time, but the older I got, the more I realized how much more that revealed about them than us, and I’ve done my best to keep my word and arrive on time.

Luca's whistle from the top of the stairs pulls me from my reminiscing. He waves me up, and the two of us head down a hall filled with life-sized portraits of the Alphas, each with their years of service underneath until we see a photo of the man I met in Colorado.

Giovanni Marlo 1962 - current

It fascinates me that the artist who drew him was able to capture the sinister nature of his eyes. His frown matched his predecessors', and I wondered if Luca would attempt a similar expression when his turn arrived.

I can’t even imagine a scowl on Luca’s friendly face.

Luca turns to me as if my thoughts were broadcast, his expression more serious.

“You’re here to observe, not comment. Keep your facial expressions in check, and whatever you do, follow your orders without pause or question. My goal here is to get you in and out of these unscathed. I can’t do that if you go all Deacon on me,” he finishes with a smile that carries his love for his little brother.

When he opens the door, the room within contains a sizable rectangular oak table, four chairs sit on each side, and an oversized chair is located at the head. Three or four more aluminum folding chairs line the wall on the opposite side of the room. Dark blue folders sit in front of each chair at the table, and a black telephone sits at the table's center.

Luca points to one of the folding chairs and then places his finger over his lips in a reminder to keep me quiet, though I’m not sure why, as we are the first two in the room.

Even as I think it, a door at the end of the room opens, and a group of people file in, taking their seats. I sink into the folding chair farthest from the table and wait.

Once all the seats are taken, Luca sits in the chair on the right of the head seat. The room is silent. Every member waits, frozen in place, as we all pause for Alpha Marlo. I take the opportunity to figure out who is in the room, and without even trying, I find the Second. Not only is he in the chair opposite Luca, but his smug face matches that of his idiot son.

The tension in the room is palpable as no one speaks. Fear permeates the air, and I know without a doubt it's because of the man who is currently missing.

They are all terrified of him.

Luca avoids my eyes and instead sits gazing at the folder before him like it will open and reveal its secrets if he stares long enough.

Ten minutes later, I struggle not to wiggle in my seat. Waiting has never been a strong suit of mine, and worse, my disdain for tardiness annoys me. He is forcing us to wait as a power play to make himself feel more important. My father would be fuming, and it takes all my self-control to keep from getting up and walking out.

Mind games.

The door opening pulls everyone's attention, and Giovanni Marlo marches in, angling toward his seat at the head of the table. He wears a three-piece suit, buttoned closed, with cufflinks adorning his arms. He makes a show of undoing his buttons before being seated and casually leaning on one of the armrests.

“Begin,” he says once he’s made himself comfortable. Belsom starts to speak, but Marlo's snapping cuts him off.

“Coffee. Now,” he orders to a petite woman hugging the door by the wall. She nods wordlessly and disappears before he turns his attention back to his Second.

“Two incidents overnight. One from our western border. A hunting party crossed into our territory just after midnight, claiming they were tailing a deer. Enforcer team bravo was able to contain and remove them without bloodshed, but reports indicate they are feeling out the border for a weak point to take more land for Alpha Reyes.” Lorenzo Belsom pauses, allowing his Alpha to take in the information.

“What’s our response, Frank?” he questions turning to the man sitting next to Luca in the solid black fatigues.

Ok, so that’s Frank. We trust Frank.

The scowl he wears instantly reminds me of Deacon. He always wears the mask of neutrality, a calculated level of disinterest.

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