Page 151 of Oddly Fine

“Hayes will go into the meeting with you,” Beckett decided. “He’ll tap your shoulder every time you look suspicious and kick your chair when you should play it up.”

“No,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “I won’t have either of your deaths on my conscience.”

“Good thing you’ll be dead and unable to deal with anything,” Hayes said, with far more sass than usual.

Beckett chuckled and pointed to his partner.

“What he said. Besides, if it comes to that, Hayes will get you out of there.”

Matthew rolled his eyes like he couldn’t believe Beckett’s arrogance or that Hayes would save his ass.

But Beckett understood his look of disbelief. It was difficult to comprehend just how deadly Hayes could be. Beckett was deadly in his own right, but he was like a sawed-off shotgun. Blunt, efficient, and messy. Hayes was very much like the weapon he favoured. A high-calibre, high-precision rifle. If you were in his sights—then you were as good as dead.

“My uncle is an unbelievably cruel man, and he—”

“Is shipping people in coffins to use them in rejuvenation treatments,” Beckett cut him off. “Neither of us is stupid. We know who you’re dealing with here,” he assured him. And yes, of course Beckett was worried. Sending Hayes in meant he might not make it out. He wasn’t so enamoured of his boyfriend that he actually believed he was made of steel and invincible. But the facts remained the same. He trusted Hayes. Trusted Hayes to keep himself safe, and believed he could keep Matthew safe as well.

Matthew looked back and forth between Hayes and Beckett a few times before he gave a nod of agreement.

“Game faces on,” Hayes advised as he pulled into one of the few empty parking spaces left in the driveway of the manor belonging to Mario.

Beckett hadn’t paid any attention to his surroundings on the drive over, so when he looked up, he was stunned by the sheer size of the place.

“Did we teleport to Versailles? What the fuck?”

“The scope and depth of his various cultural references are forever surprising,” Matthew said, shaking his head while staring straight at Beckett, even though Beckett didn’t grasp the meaning, and Hayes snorted like maybe he should have. “This is my uncle’s home. He bought it when he decided to move to Montreal. It’s now his primary residence,” Matthew explained as he began to tense up again.

“Play it cool,” Beckett reminded him as he looked up at the goddamned château. “Besides, there are worse places to die,” he remarked casually, to which Hayes chuckled while Matthew blanched slightly and cleared his throat nervously.

Setting aside the change of venue, the ambiance was remarkably similar to that of the last meeting of the Rosario family. There was perhaps a bit more tension in the air with Matthew’s sister shooting him a questioning smile as he greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. But so far, Beckett had to admit that Matthew was playing his part perfectly. There was an air of confidence about him that was far from the nervous wreck he’d been in the car. He conducted lively conversations, asking his uncle’s assistant where he’d found certain pieces of art, carefree and happy, and projecting the very picture of innocence.

“Did you fly in this morning?” Matthew asked his sister as the bodyguards standing at the door dragged their feet letting them in.

“No, I was in town for a meeting already,” she said with a shrug. The twins had just arrived, looking slightly rumpled, like perhaps their flight had been rough.

“What the fuck is this about anyway?” one of Matthew’s siblings demanded. Beckett didn’t know which one it was, but he looked furious.

“You didn’t call it?” Matthew asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I assumed it was the official announcement of your betrothal to each other,” he said with a smirk.

“Betro—what? The fuck are you on about? We were halfway to Ibiza to party with Calvin Harris when we got the call! This better be fucking good!” he snarled, though it was unclear who he was threatening.

“It will be,” a booming voice confirmed from the now open doorway. Their uncle stood there, looking like the picture-perfect villain. He’d dressed to put on a show, wearing a sharply tailored dark suit, crisp white shirt, and perfectly knotted silk tie. He could go from here straight to his own wedding, and no one would bat an eye.

Beckett noticed Matthew’s shoulders start to stiffen but, before he could tap his shoulder, he settled back into character.

“Did you buy that property off Notre Dame?” Matthew asked, the excitement genuine.

Mario was noticeably displeased that he hadn’t gotten the shock-and-awe response he’d anticipated. He turned to his nephew, minor twitches of his surgically-altered forehead and eyebrows at least partially conveying his irritation.

“What?” he barked, but before Matthew could explain, he ordered, “Come in, we have a lot to get through.”

Beckett shot Hayes a quick glance to make sure they were following the plan. He started to reach for him, wanting a moment—one more just in case—but he subdued the urge and offered a faint nod instead. They’d shared a quick, private moment earlier before they came in. Besides, they walked into danger every day, and tonight was no different.

Beckett watched as the four siblings, along with their bodyguards, followed Mario. Matthew and his sister, chatting amicably, entered last, trailed by Hayes. So far, Matthew had succeeded in selling the act. That was encouraging, at least. As they disappeared behind the large oak door, Beckett felt a prickle of worry settle at the back of his neck.

The bodyguard situation had not changed since the first meeting. As he turned away from the closed door, Beckett found himself again surrounded by meatheads. They looked like the same ones he’d met at the first Rosario meeting, though this time they looked decidedly more eager? Was that the right word? Like lions licking their chops as they watched a nearby herd of gazelle settle down to graze on a plain of long grass.

Fuck.