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“He must have a tiny dick,” Brenna said, grinning like crazy.
“A tiny dick isn’t worth dying for, Sean,” I goaded.
Brenna snorted. “How should I kill him? A couple of rounds in the chest? Or one between the eyes?”
Red with embarrassment or anger or both, Sean yanked off his suit jacket. “Stefan will hear of this.”
“Oh, I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tell my father,” I said.
We all watched as Sean stripped to his underwear, which is what Justin had done.
“Underwear, too, boys,” Brenna ordered.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Sean seethed, his Irish accent coming out thick. He pushed the last bit of clothing he had on down his legs until it dropped to his ankles. Some of Nicoli's men whistled and catcalled.
Brenna pointed her guns toward the ceiling. “Thanks for the show. You may leave now.”
Sean and Justin went to grab their clothes.
“Wait!” I said, making them pause. I pulled out my phone and quickly took a picture. “Okay. Now you can go.”
Sean and Justin grabbed their clothes, used them to cover their privates, and walked out of the club quickly.
Nicoli and Dario came to stand next to me. “It's always entertaining when you're around,” Nicoli said.
“You should have killed them,” Dario said as Brenna came over. “As you said, his pride won’t let this go.”
Brenna holstered her gun and held out Justin’s to Asher, who took it from her. Then she looked at me for guidance on how to respond.
“I know,” I said.
“You sound like you’re planning on it,” Nicoli said.
“To kill a high-ranking member of my family, it must be justified,” I explained. “And when he retaliates, it will be.”
Dario's mouth dropped open slightly. “The two of you planned that?”
I shook my head.
“The opportunity sort of presented itself,” Brenna said.
Nicoli smiled. “That’s entrapment.”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t have to let his pride rule him. He can choose to let this go.”
“Would you let it go?” Dario asked me.
No. But I was better at playing games than Sean was. I answered Dario with a smirk.
“Shall we get back to our drink?” Nicoli asked.
We returned to the table we’d been sitting at. Brenna pulled out the chair next to mine, across from Dario, and took a seat.
Dario picked up his drink and took a sip, his gaze never leaving Brenna as he did. “Shall I get you a juice box?” he asked her as he set his glass back on the table.
Brenna put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on top of her fist. “You seem really fixated on my age.” She smirked at him like she was privy to something that he didn’t want her to know. “I wonder why that is.”
Dario glared at her.
