Page 21 of Vows of Ruin

Chapter Ten

Wrenley

The air inside the greenhouse is thick, humid, it’s pressing down on my lungs. The scent is all memory, warm earth, wild vines, blooming jasmine clinging to the walls like old secrets. Nothing has changed since I was six years old, and lost my necklace among the ivy laced paths.

I step carefully across them now. Hugo’s heavy paws are silent beside me. The glass panes above are fogged, filtering the afternoon light into something pale and ghostly. I see him before he sees me, seated at a wrought iron table near the center, half-shadowed by a canopy of flowering wisteria. Two glasses. A bottle of Don Julio 1942 tequila. The bastard did his homework. He looks up. Smiles. That smile crawls across my skin like a spider.

I take the chair across from him, letting the silence stretch. I’m good at silence. I’ve weaponized it. Let him squirm.

Liam’s voice slips into my ear, low and razor-sharp. “Don’t move to your right. I’ve got the shot lined up.”

I reach up, fingers gliding down the length of my braid like it’s nothing. Silent acknowledgement. I don’t look toward the roof, I don’t need to. He’s up there. I can feel it.

The man across from me tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he already knows the pieces to. There’s something familiar in his eyes, something that makes my stomach twist, but I can’t place it.

He reaches out a hand. “Sebastian Montclair. Nice to finally see you.”

Hugo lets out a low growl, deep and primal, the kind that says one wrong move ends in blood. I don’t take Sebastian's hand. Instead, I reach down and pat Hugo’s head with calm, deliberate control.

“Braver Hund,” I murmur. Good boy.

“So why the hell am I here, Sebastian?" I reply flatly.

He pulls his hand away, eyeing Hugo like he might lunge. “I have a business opportunity. For you and your husband, Mr. Blackwood.”

I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. “Do you always send old personal photos to people you want to do business with?”

“I apologize for that,” he says, smiling like it means something. “I just needed to ensure I had your attention.”

“Oh, you’ve got it,” I say coolly. “And just so you know, my husbands are very curious about your intentions.”

He flinches. “Husbands? Plural?” his brow lifts. “Well, now, I never thought you—”

“Choose your next words carefully,” I cut him off, my voice all ice. I lean in slightly. “I have no problem pulling out a knife and pinning your tongue to this table.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence. Then Max crackles in over the comms, smug and proud. “That’s my girl.”

Sebastian doesn’t react, he reclines in his chair. Calm, polished, and poised. He doesn’t fidget. Doesn’t try to fill the silence. He sits like someone who’s used to being obeyed. It reminds me of the way my mother would sit when she wanted the room to belong to her.

“You’ve built something impressive,” he says, swirling the tequila in his glass without taking a sip. “The club. The connections. The influence. The family facade,” His eyes flick towards Hugo, then back to me. “But it could be more. You have the perfect setup for distribution, discretion, clientele, protection. All you’re missing is product.”

I don’t respond. I just watch him. Like a match waiting to be struck. He smirks, like my silence amuses him. “I’m talking about drugs, yes. But people too. The demand is there. High-end clients want more than a buzz these days.”

My spine goes rigid. Hugo growls low, sensing the shift in me.

Sebastian's gaze sharpens. “So righteous. Just like your beloved uncle. Benjamin always thought he could save the world one secret at a time.”

My jaw tightens.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But you… maybe you could still be mommy and daddy's princess and uphold the legacy were trying to create.”

My stomach turns. My parents were building everything but a legacy. I feel the heat rise up the back of my neck, but I don’t flinch. I don’t blink.

“Little warrior,” Liam’s voice breaks through the comm, grounding me. Steady. Commanding. “Don’t take the bait. He wants the reaction.”

Everything in me wants to leap across the table and make him choke on that name… that fucking name. I lean forward matching him, slow and deliberate, letting my smile grow sharp. “Call me that again and I’ll make sure your last breath tastes like blood.”

Sebastian’s smile wavers for the first time. Good.