Page 93 of The Reaper
Caleb shook his head, slow and deliberate. “You walk away because you decide to.”
His gaze held mine, unflinching. “But if you stay—if you keep pushing without changing a damn thing—then you’re playing his game. And his game ends with you broken.”
I looked away, my chest tightening. He made it sound so simple. Like choosing to breathe was as easy as letting go. But the truth was, my identity had been tangled in this place for so long I wasn’t sure where it ended and I began.
Michael shifted his weight, drawing my attention back. “I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter this time. “I didn’t know, truly.”
Caleb stepped closer to Michael, not touching him this time, but crowding his space until Michael’s back nearly hit the counter again. “Where is he?”
Michael’s eyes darted to me, then back to Caleb. “I don’t know. He doesn’t exactly … invite me over for dinner. But he’s got that warehouse on the edge of the marina. Uses it for storage. I’ve seen him there late at night, plotting.”
Finn muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot likeof course, he does.
Caleb’s mouth curved—just barely. Not amusement. Calculation. “Then that’s where we start.”
31
CALEB
Istood in Promenade’s kitchen, the air heavy with decision, the stainless steel counters gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Meghan was a storm beside me, her face pale but fierce, her eyes blazing with betrayal as Michael rubbed his throat, still reeling from my grip. The stack of cream-colored notes he’d held—proof of his treachery—sat on the counter, a taunt to my failure to keep her safe.
My blood still roared, a primal need to shield her burning in my chest, but her love for this place, her empire, was a fire I couldn’t extinguish, and I felt the tension simmering, a clash waiting to erupt. She was my focus, my mission, and I’d tear apart anyone who threatened her world, but her refusal to step back from Promenade made my job harder, and I wasn’t sure how long we could balance on this edge.
Finn stepped forward, his voice calm but sharp, cutting through the charged silence. “Keep Michael on for the shift.”
Meghan’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing like a blade. “No fucking way. He’s done.”
I nodded, my jaw tight, my hand itching to grab Michael again. “He’s a traitor. He doesn’t stay near her.”
Finn held up a hand, his gaze steady, and pulled us aside, out of Michael’s earshot, into the narrow hallway by the walk-in cooler. “If he’s busy here, working, no phone—I took it already—he can’t contact Alastair. We keep him contained, under our eyes, until we figure out the next move.”
I stared at him, reassessing, my respect for him spiking. The guy had a tactical mind, a sharpness I’d underestimated, thinking he was just a loyal sous chef with a quick smile.
“Thought you were just here to chop onions and look pretty, Finn,” I said, a grin slipping out, punchy and sharp. “Guess I owe you a beer for being wrong.”
He smirked, tossing back a quick one-liner. “Make it whiskey, and we’ll call it even.”
Then his face sobered, his voice low. “Do what you need to keep our Meghan safe.”
The wordourlanded heavy, a shift I felt in my gut. Finn wasn’t challenging me. He was welcoming me into her world, accepting me as part of her circle.
I nodded, a silent vow, and he turned back to the kitchen, barking orders to keep the cleanup moving, his presence steadying the crew.
Meghan’s eyes flicked to me, her voice firm but frayed at the edges. “I need to change before we leave.”
I frowned, glancing at the dining room, where the last guests were trickling out, their voices soft under the glow of candlelight.
“What about service?”
She crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering.
“I’m coming with you. I need to look Alastair in the face and tell him to fuck off.”
My gut clenched, a protective instinct flaring hot. “No way, Meghan. That’s reckless. I’m not letting you walk into a fight with a guy who’s gone violent.”
Her eyes flashed, defiance burning bright. “You don’t get to decide my fights, Caleb. This is my life, my restaurant, and I’m not hiding.”
I stepped closer, voice low. “You’re not walking into a snake pit with nothing but attitude. I’ll handle Alastair.”
