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“It’s a members only club,” Theo tells me, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. “Gabriel’s family owns it, although it’s not a front like a few of their other places. We let Gabriel pick our meeting spot, and he chose his home turf.”
A ripple of unease washes through me at that thought. I’m not opposed to the idea of a public meeting place, as opposed to going to his house or having him meet us at Theo’s. But I don’t like the idea that he’ll have a natural advantage there.
“It’ll be okay, Rose.” Theo reaches over to thread his fingers through mine, giving a squeeze. “We’ll just talk. None of us is gonna risk breaking Luca’s rules for this, so the worst that can happen is Gabriel says no.”
“And if he does, we try Michael. He might be interested in cutting a deal just based on the fact that Gabriel isn’t,” Ryland adds, drawing my attention to the back seat.
He and Marcus are both wearing dark wash jeans and henleys, and Theo is dressed similarly. I’m in a pair of nice jeans and one of the fancier tops the guys bought me to replace my old clothes, which Marcus assured me is enough for where we’re going.
If I still had my prosthetic arm, this might be one of the occasions when I would’ve decided to wear it, just to avoid extra attention. I’ll have to see about getting a new one at some point, but it’s far down on my list of priorities.
Just as I expected, I get a few curious stares and sidelong glances as the four of us step inside the large, luxurious space.
The Saraven is less like a dance club and more like a very upscale speakeasy. It’s massive, with a dining area and bar, a lounge, and smaller private rooms spread around the space. Theo points out all of these things to me in a low voice as Marcus leads us confidently down a corridor toward a small room at the end.
Gabriel Morello is waiting for us when we step inside the room. A cocktail waitress wearing a form-hugging dress keeps her gaze demurely diverted as she sets several glasses down on the large table in the center of the room. She slips out the door like a ghost as the four of us sit down.
Gabriel openly studies the inked remnant of my right arm, and I can feel all three of the men around me tense a little, their bodies shifting closer to mine.
Fuck. I really don’t want them to get in a fight with him over something this inconsequential. Not when there are bigger things we need to worry about.
“What?” I cock a challenging eyebrow at Gabriel, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table. “You’ve never seen a tattoo before?”
His gaze jerks up to my face in surprise, and when he sees the sardonic smile on my face, he blinks. Then he laughs. “You’re funny. I like that.”
I shrug. I’m not that funny, but my comment did what it was meant to—it got him to stop staring at me, and it relaxed the three overprotective alphas who surround me, at least enough to keep them from reaching across the table to
grab Gabriel by the throat.
Gabriel’s chuckle fades, and he slouches a little in his chair, cocking his head as he examines me and my companions. “So, why are we here? What do you want from me?” A smile touches his lips. “Or more importantly, what can you offer me?”
“What do you know about a man called the Viper?” Marcus asks.
Gabriel’s expression changes immediately. His relaxed posture evaporates as his dark eyes turn hard as glass. “That motherfucker. Who gave you his name?”
“Not important.” Marcus brushes the question aside. “But we know his name, and we know he’s been giving you and your family a hard time. Stealing suppliers, shaking down business owners, encroaching on your territory. This goes on too much longer, and you’re gonna lose your foothold in Halston. It’s a slippery fucking slope from the top of the heap to the bottom, isn’t it?”
Gabriel’s jaw clenches. “That’s it, then? You came here to threaten me?”
“Nah.” Ryland shakes his head. “We came here to offer you help. If you help us.”
“Fuck you.”
Theo shoots me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “See? This is why shit rarely gets accomplished between games. Nobody’s willing to make a deal.”
He speaks in a low voice, but Gabriel doesn’t miss the words. The dark-haired man leans forward, narrowing his eyes. He’s got heavy, blunt features, and they turn even harder as his face contorts with anger.
“And why the hell would I make a deal with you, huh? Everybody knows the three of you look out for each other—you expect me to believe you’re gonna look out for me too? That you won’t turn on me the second you get whatever you want?”
Marcus shrugs. “No. But then again, you’re running out of options. Say the game goes on for another few years before someone finally wins. Is the Morello family name even gonna mean shit in Halston by then? Or will your legacy have been wiped out by the Viper?”
Gabriel’s jaw clenches as he shifts his gaze to the side, looking a little like a petulant child. “You don’t know shit.” Then he glances back at Marcus. “What would you even do about him anyway? You think you can stop him when we can’t? Luca hasn’t even stopped him, so why the hell should I believe his successor would?”
“I don’t know why Luca hasn’t gotten involved,” Marcus admits, taking a sip of the whiskey the cocktail waitress left for each of us. “He has his own reasons for doing what he does. But that’s all the more reason for you to take our offer. The sooner a successor is chosen, the sooner Luca will step down. And you have my word that we’ll help you stamp out the Viper when that happens.”
“If you win.” Gabriel scowls.
“If we win.” Marcus spreads his hands slightly, looking languid and confident. “But I still say those are better odds than you have of holding off the Viper on your own.”
