Page 79 of Reaper Flame

“We’ll take security with us,” Vixen said, then turned to me. “Nothing will happen with Candy there.”

“I’ll kill him if he touches her,” I confirmed.

“I don’t like it,” Zander replied, pacing back and forth. “We’ll have to scope out the venue, take security, and we can wait outside the restaurant. I’m not heading into an ambush.”

“Do what you need to do to make it safe, Zander,” Vixen said, standing up. “But I’m going to speak to him.”

* * *

It was impressive how many security checks Zander could perform in a short amount of time. Security was stationed around the block and at every exit of the restaurant, plus they had completed a thorough sweep of the interiors to check for bombs buried in the cushioned booths. He even set up a drone to monitor the neighborhood for any suspicious activity which may warrant cutting the meeting short.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked Vixen as we stood outside a small Italian restaurant. It looked unassuming from the street.Not exactly the type of place where I imagined Bryce to eat often from the lack of caviar on the menu.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Zander and West, who watched us like hawks from across the street. They needed to chill the fuck out. I had the situation under control. Nothing would happen to Vixen when I was around.

I pushed the door open, and a bell tinkled above it to announce our arrival. “Let’s fucking do this then.”

Bryce sat alone in the empty restaurant at a table in the center. My eyes scanned the area for anything suspicious, but nothing looked out of place.

“I’m glad you made it. It really has been too long,” Bryce said. His gaze flicked to me in distaste. “And I see you’re not alone.”

“I’m not a Seven anymore, remember?” I sneered back.

“Why don’t you both take a seat?” He gestured to the spare chairs opposite him, surprising me by not chastising us for bending his rules. “The food here is really something.”

The cheerful background music playing juxtaposed the tense atmosphere. Vixen’s chair legs squealed against the freshly cleaned floor.

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Uncle?” Vixen spat.

He smiled and picked up the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table to pour us generous glasses. “Is it a crime to want to see my family?”

“Family?!” Vixen demanded. Her shoulders shook in anger. “Why don’t you get to the fucking point? We’re not here to mess around and, with one click of my fingers, Zander’s men will blow your head clean off.”

He may not want to speak to his son, but he was smart enough to know we wouldn’t come unprotected.

“That’s exactly why I asked you here,” Bryce said, sipping his wine casually. “I have something to ask you. A favor.”

“What makes you think we will do anything for you?” Vixen snarled.

“Because I have something you want,” Bryce replied. He leaned over the table towards us and dropped his voice. “Something you have always wanted to know.”

His attempts at being friendly were foolish. Did he think we were born yesterday? Dangling an imaginary carrot under our noses may tempt a naive rabbit, but I was a fucking wolf.

I crossed my arms. “What’s the favor?”

“My son may want nothing to do with me, but I don’t want to see my fortune go to my traitorous nephew.”

I smirked. “Didn’t you enjoy his fireworks display?”

Fury flashed over Bryce’s angular features. He would have been handsome in his younger days, but he had long past his prime. Since I saw him at the wedding, he’d lost weight. His eyes were sunken and more lines filled his forehead, making it look like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Losing his luxurious life would have made it difficult to keep up with regular Botox injections.

“Briarly Manor wasour family legacy,” Bryce snarled. “He destroyed it out of petulance.”

“What’s wrong, Bryce?” I cocked my head to the side, a grin dancing over my lips. “Not used to your old lapdog having a new owner?”

Giles may have followed Bryce’s orders once, but he jumped ship as soon as a more promising offer arose. They may share blood, but Giles wanted more power than Bryce could give. Something Hiram had promised him.

“Giles took it too far,” Bryce said, slamming his glass down on the table.

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