Page 128 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

“Just an email that could make or break my life. You know, typical Tuesday.”

“It’s not Tuesday.”

Really?

She rounded the desk and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Go on then. Open the mofo up.”

Taking a breath, I obeyed, scanning the short message before opening the two attachments.

I scrolled straight to the bottom of both documents, and my mouth dried.

There was no way to know if the valuation for each clan was completely accurate. Fyrlia could have assets I didn’t know about.

I pulled out a valuation of my assets from the top drawer. It detailed everything I owned locally, minus the estate.

Hands shaking, I extracted my grandmother’s massive calculator from the same drawer and added Sundulus’s total to mine.

I compared that figure to the sum of Clan Fyrlia’s assets.

“Well?” Tommy strained.

My heart sank.

21

The thick paper of Lady Treena’s invitation sat heavy in my hand. I was entering the lion’s den tonight with an agenda so fucking ballsy that Grandmother might have raised a single brow.

The gathering was at our usual meeting place at Sir Olythieu’s which led me to assume this wasn’t a soiree at all but a normal meeting.

Yet someone had gone to the effort of making an invitation.

Which meant Dame Burke organised this—her flair for the dramatic was about as strong as her sailor’s mouth.

I’d dressed for a soiree, regardless, slipping into a black and flittering floor-length gown for the occasion. Strapless, it highlighted the curve of my neck and the graceful slope of my shoulders, accentuating the curves of my body that drove Kyros to distraction. White gloves extended to my elbows.

I wish he could see me now.

I hadn’t heard from my mate, and weirdly, that felt right. He was gearing up for his battle, and I was gearing up for mine. Our last moment in each other’s arms was the memory we wanted to retain if the worst happened.

Two butlers in tuxes bowed and swung the doors of the ballroom open.

Yep, definitely Dame Burke.

The six elite were waiting for me, already seated around the square table in the middle of the huge dancing area. No one spoke as I took my seat and fixed each of them with a level look.

“Good evening, Basilia,” Sir Olythieu said in a mild voice.

“Good evening.” I inclined my head regally and saw the hint of amusement in his gaze.

Mrs Syrre cleared her throat. “We thought it best to give tempers time to cool so each of us could regain perspective before meeting again.”

Mmm-hmm. I peered around. “A lot of effort for a meeting.”

Dame Burke grinned as the others glared at her.

I placed my hands on the armrests. “So what’s it going to be?”

Mr Hothen stroked his jaw.

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