Page 16 of His Pet

“Not everything has to end with a corpse on someone’s doorstep.” His voice is low as he flicks his gaze around us. “It’s a business move. We can go back and forth taking each other’s whores, or we can hit where it’ll actually hurt. The resort is a real investment. There are millions of dollars in it, and they’ve been taking reservations through the end of next year. We stall it, or even tear the thing to the ground, and it’ll send the message that this isn’t a petty feud to us. We’re willing to go after Valentine’s assets.”

Settimo thinks for a moment, but it’s only to humor Anthony. He prefers violence. So do I. Maybe we’ll throw in stalling the resort’s development, but there’s power in bloodshed that isn’t matched by anything else.

“And what if Lachlan decides to go after one of our own assets? Is this a war worth starting over a couple of prostitutes being where they shouldn’t?”

That strikes a nerve with me, and tension weaves its way into my bones. The skin pulls taught around my knuckles as I fist my hands under the table.

“It’s about respect,” I say. “But it’s a moot point. We’re holding off for now.”

“Why?” Settimo asks. The tension weaves tighter, and I hold Anthony’s stare a moment longer. He found it important to tell Settimo about my little captive’s attire this morning but not about our conversation.

“Because I want to push Valentine to be more direct. I don’t answer messages unless they’re delivered to me, in person.”

Settimo taps the table and pushes his tongue into his cheek while he thinks of a response. He disagrees with me.

“We’ll be prepared when it’s time,” Anthony says before Settimo has time to argue.

Settimo leans back in his chair and nods. “All right,” he says hesitantly. “You’ll keep me in the loop?”

He meets my eyes and I run my thumb around the stem of my glass again. “Of course.”

“Great.”

Settimo raises a hand and waves for a waitress, signaling without words that the business part of this lunch is over. She brings us menus, and Settimo dismisses them with a wave. He orders for all of us, and I sit back wondering how he could possibly be any more like our mother with his control issues.

We have lunch, and I listen to Anthony and Settimo drone on about preparations for the afternoon. They’re meeting with a couple guys on a golf course to talk about investing in a remodeling company that’s had a problem with vandalism in the past. With our stamp on their company, the vandalism should stop. No one would ever knowingly fuck with our things. All it will cost them is a skim off the top and a debt paid back in favors as we need them.

Unsurprisingly, I’m not “needed” for this meeting. They don’t say outright that I’m unwelcome, but I’m not an idiot. My people skills are lacking, and according to anyone I’ve ever met, I can come across as threatening, even when I don’t intend to. My mother used to put me in front of a mirror and encourage me to practice smiling because people complained that my smile was too sinister for a child. I’m different. I always have been. It’s worked fine for me thus far.

I’ve almost forgotten about the girl locked in my bedroom when my phone vibrates. I flip it over while Anthony and Settimo continue their conversation. It’s a message from Victor. I wanted someone watching Amelia at all times, and Victor volunteered. A little too gleefully.

As I scan the words on the screen, I allow myself a small smile.

She found a knife.

Beautiful.

I pull up the surveillance footage, and sure enough, she has the knife I planted underneath my mattress, just for her temptation. She holds it in her palm so delicately it’s like she thinks it’ll slice her skin if it touches her. Her head pivots back and forth, searching for anyone who might be watching, even though she’s alone.

She’s adorable. Truly adorable. I can’t wait to see what she does with the knife. Part of me hopes she’ll manage to cut me with it, just so I can see the wide look in her eyes when I take it from her.

My cock stirs and I put the phone down before I have a full erection in the middle of the restaurant.

Anthony and Settimo have stopped talking and are now looking at me.

“What?” I ask, picking up my wine glass and sloshing the last of the liquid down my throat.

“Who messaged you?” Anthony asks, his voice holding unease. Settimo has a slight frown.

“Victor. Why?”

“You were smiling.”

I shrug and wish I had appeased my mother as a child and practiced harder in the mirror. “I suppose I’m in a good mood.”

“Why would that be?” Settimo asks accusatory.

“I’m looking forward to tonight. If you want the details for my dinner party, Anthony has them.” I stand and tuck my phone into my pocket. “Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow. I have a situation at home that needs my attention. Anthony,” I nod at my youngest brother and turn toward the exit, heading that way.

I’m eager as I leave, a bounce in my step.

I can’t wait to find out how sharp Kitty’s claws are.

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