Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

10. Chapter 10

J ace is pissing me off. In fact, so are Raphael and Enzo.

My plan was to drink myself into a stupor at the Savage Wings bar and have Bull take me home. And I was already a lot of beers deep when Raph demanded I come to this dinner to talk business.

They could have picked any other day, but they didn’t, so I’m going to get wasted off Raph’s good scotch and they can deal with my shitty attitude.

I miss Matteo.

Jace has been boasting about some abhorrent shit until Raph’s parents, Mario and Luisa, arrived. I don’t know why Raph has him as his second. He’s always been a cocky prick. He prides himself on being vicious for no good reason, and one day I’m going to crack him in the face with my fist.

Multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs draw my attention from my empty glass. I watch Enzo ascend, followed by Del, Lucas and…

Scarlett.

My heart pumps a little harder as she scoops her long, honey-blonde hair to one side, and she shrugs off her trench coat. The sinfully short leather skirt, the off-the-shoulder pink top displaying smooth skin, and black boots with a thick heel that could cause damage makes my body stir.

She’s fucking stunning.

And then I remember: I’m fucking livid at her.

The last time I saw her, she drank my good tequila, ate most of Heartbreaker’s cheese, fucked my brains out, and then snuck out like I was one of her dirty secrets.

She gives her coat to the host with a soft, appreciative smile and then she scans the room. Those big, chocolate-brown doe eyes land on me and shock crosses her perfect features. The shock quickly turns to something harder, and then it’s hidden by a soft, complacent smile.

Raph crosses from the bar and greets her, kissing both cheeks and tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow. He leads her to the seat next to me and pulls out the chair.

Sea salt and jasmine. That damn scent has haunted me since she disappeared, and now it taunts me as Scar settles into her seat.

“Thank you, Raph,” she says in a soft tone that sends a shiver down my spine. She takes the crisp, black napkin from the table and looks at me briefly with a demure smile. “Creed.”

I don’t like this docile woman next to me.

“Scarlett,” I say in greeting, my voice hoarse.

“It’s good to see you,” she says politely.

That renders me speechless. Good to see me. Good to see me? Are you fucking kidding me?

Before I start an argument in front of everyone, I drag myself out of the chair and snatch up my glass.

I cross to the bar and ask the bartender, Ty, for a refill and whatever tequila cocktail he recommends, but it has to be slightly bitter.

He goes to work shaking up some pink concoction, saying something about grapefruit, and serves it in a tumbler glass with a salt rim, then tops up my scotch.

I bring the cocktail over and place it in front of Scarlett; she looks at me confused.

“Since I’m only good for a drink and a screw,” I say, low enough that only she can hear me. I give her a wicked grin and lean closer. “We can do the screwing later.”

Rage ignites in her eyes, her polite smile a little sharper.

There she is.

“I’m good, thank you,” she says, her anger tainting her sweet tone as she turns to face forward, dismissing me.

God, I’m hard.

I sit back as exhilaration and lust pump through my veins, taking a sip out of my scotch. Scarlett doesn’t touch her drink, and we sit in deliciously agonizing silence as the rest of the party visits the bar, waiting for them to take their seats.

Another guest arrives—Enzo’s late father’s widow, Vivienne, with a henchman I’ve never met.

The list of attendees tonight is a selective choice: there’s Raphael and his parents, Jace, Enzo and Del, Vivienne, Scarlett, and myself. Lucas stands by the stairs with Hawk, a guy in a suit who I’m assuming is Dragone’s crew, and the Herrington henchman.

Business will be conducted later.

Once everyone takes their seats, Raph stands, smooths down the lapel of his suit jacket and then holds up his glass. “A toast.” Everyone holds up their drink, Scarlett her water.

“To our dearly departed,” Raph continues. “ Non ti dimenticheremo .”

A round of ‘salute’ choruses around the table and we drink. Two wait staff come out of the shadows carrying platters of food, placing them in the centre of the table.

“Now, we eat,” Luisa announces.

The food is incredible. After four rounds of plates and then dessert, Raph’s parents and Vivienne retire for the evening, escorted by the mystery henchman and Dragone’s man.

Ty refreshes everyone’s drinks, including Scar’s, even though she hasn’t touched it, and then leaves the private mezzanine dining room with the host.

“How’s the new restaurant coming along?” Enzo asks Raph from across the table.

“Permits were approved for the build, and then my mother changed her mind about the layout.” Raph picks up his drink. “After she decides what she wants, then we can start construction.”

Enzo nods, then turns his attention to me. “How’s the construction of our townhouses?”

He’s no longer talking about actual construction.

When we first met Adrian, Enzo killed two unknown cops that were camping out at the docks where we met, and since then we’ve been speaking in code about the business more than we ever have before. And since a large portion of Herrington Global’s portfolio is real estate and construction, we talk a lot about building. This time it’s ‘townhouses’.

“With the difficulty getting in building materials, we’re having to reduce work hours. The trades and the clients are patient, for now.”

Translation: with a depleted drug supply, we’re selling less to make it last, and our networks of dealers and the customers are holding out but not for long.

“We need to find new suppliers sooner rather than later,” I say.

“What are the supply stores looking like?” Raph asks.

“The mosaic tiles are sufficient so far; there’s no need for concern right now, but we’ll see later in the build. We have plenty of timbers and paint. Our biggest concern right now is bricks.”

We needed a new shipment of cocaine, ‘bricks’, three months ago.

“The quality of the last shipment wasn’t up to code, either,” I continue. “The tradesmen got multiple citations about the building structure.”

So many of our network of dealers told us that customers complained that the quality was abysmal.

“Any work site injuries?” Enzo asks. He’s asking about overdoses.

“None that were reported,” I say.

“At least that’s something,” Enzo says, as he pulls out his phone from the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket.

“If we don’t find the right building materials supplier soon, our trades might outsource.” If we can’t supply, then our network won’t wait for us to get our shit together. “Our clients may also look into another construction company.”

If our customer base wanes, then we’re fucked.

Enzo stands and excuses himself from the table, walking out of earshot to take a phone call.

I turn to Scarlett. She’s scanning over the table’s inhabitants, none of them paying her attention. I know the sharp set of that perfect face—she’s pissed . Her eyes finally land on me.

“Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?” she asks low enough that only I can hear.

I nod. “Business.”

“Tonight?” she hisses.

I shrug. I agree, this could have happened any other day, but these logistics are about to affect everyone’s business.

As Enzo’s returning to the table, Scar takes her cocktail, drinks the entire thing, then stands.

“I have to go,” she announces, and leaves the table.

We’re all silent as Scar walks over to the host area, rips her coat off the hanger and descends the stairs. Del and I stand at the same time.

“I’ve got it,” I say, following Scar out of the restaurant.

“So, you do know how to use a phone,” I say.

She looks up from the cursed device with a huff. “What do you want?”

“You must have deleted my number, then.”

She frowns. “What?”

“I’m talking about the complete radio silence for four fucking months.”

She splutters. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” I announce in a low tone, crossing my arms. “Where the fuck have you been, Scar?”

“I’ve been busy, Mechanic ,” she spits. “Apparently, so have you.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She laughs incredulously. “Were you not just in the same room as me?”

She echoes my words from all those months ago.

“Jesus, Scar, I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“I have obligations to a lot of people. Enzo and Raphael being two of them.”

“ Contractually obligated?”

“Scarlett,” I sigh. “You know that’s not how this shit works.”

“I don’t, actually.”

I look around at the people milling about on the harbour’s promenade. “I can’t exactly talk about this here .”

She crosses her arms over her chest, the arch of her brow mocking. “Because your overlords will be mad? Are you not the president of a biker gang?”

I step close to her, forcing her to look up at me. “Keep your voice down .”

“Or what?” she taunts. “You’re going to make me disappear or whatever criminals do?”

“The man your best friend is marrying is the one who decided to have this conversation today, the one who runs all of this, and I’m the villain here?”

“You all are,” she says and then takes a step back. “I want nothing to do with any of this.”

I laugh, the sound empty, drawing her attention. “You’re already too far into this, princess.”

She shoves my chest, but I don’t move. “Fuck you, Creed.”

My fingers trail across her jaw. “You already did. Twice.”

She bats away my hand and steps around me, a trail of sea salt and jasmine in her wake.

“Where are you going?” I ask as she walks away from me.

“Away from here,” she says over her shoulder. “Away from you.”