Page 101 of Fallen Omega

I flash an irritated smile.

“Waiting for the wine rep. I guess since you’ve got company…” I do some quick magic on the tablet so it’s just the regular and above-board site on there, complete with wine shipments. I add the rep, Darcy R. And then I make a show of it to him.

Dante glances down and then over at me. He moves the device, closing the tab and making sure a list of fake employee names are up.

“You can handle a wine rep on your own?” He nods at the Council woman, who’s still hovering close by. “I’m busy.”

“Don’t let your date hold you up too much, sir. It’s a busy day of restocking the booze.”

And I wander off back down to my office and my computers, where I pull up information on these three members of the Council.

It’s easy to find them. They’re nobodies according to this, middle management. But the woman works in registration.

I make sure I have their names, and where they live, before I do a deep dive into them.

When Darcy comes down, she’s in a suit, dressed to fucking perfection, like the wine reps we deal with at the classier places we own.

“Do we need a shipment?” she asks. “I can make calls.”

“So can I.”

“Tongue back in head, Knight.” But her words are a light tease. She knows I’d never dare.

As hot as she is, as gorgeous as she is, Darcy’s not my type.

“Okay, I’ll get some work done.”

She sets the folder she’s carrying down. And with a sigh, I pick it up. “Come on, we’ll have a drink…”

The drink’s nice and we do discuss the next order of wine.

I flip through the folder and point out a few I’d like. I’m not a fucking idiot. Reckless maybe, on and off the computer, but never an idiot.

Reaper couldn’t be fucked about the ins and outs of the pack business. He kills and provides the deadlier muscle and delves into the blackest depths of our crime connections. I’m honestly not sure what lines he won’t cross.

But I set up a way to use our legit businesses as a buffer. Like Darcy and the wine. There is a real rep, one who’s stepped foot in our classier joints. And they do sell to us here. There’s definitely an order to be placed. Sometimes I do it. Other times, Dante, but the person who delivers the order, and organizes visits to the other properties of the Unholy Trinity?

Darcy.

So, on days like today, I can pull that out of the hat, and if it’s looked into, it all pans out.

“That’s expensive.” She shakes her head.

And I top up my wine and high-five myself. “I know. I also need two of me.”

“One’s enough, Knight,” she says with a smile.

“Time with Julien has made you cruel.” But I just take a sipof the wine. “Put the order in. The usual for upstairs and some fancier stuff for?—”

“You?”

“The speakeasy.” I stop, look at the space. “What do you think of classing it up a little? More burlesque, call it the Scotch and Cigar?”

She’s too busy filling in the wine order as Mason, our head bartender, comes in.

“For here?” He looks about, setting down a tablet. “Yeah, I like it.”

“You’re not the boss,” Darcy says. “What does Dante say? Reaper?”

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