“There you are,” Redmond Orchard said.
Kaspar accepted his outstretched hand and shook. “You’re late.”
Redmond laughed. “Typical Kaspar. Can’t ever be kind, can you?” He glanced at me and his smile turned into a smirk. “Well, look at this. He said he had a new toy, but I didn’t realize she’d be a Servant too.”
“Hello, Redmond.”
He sat down across from Kaspar and crossed his legs. Redmond was the son of Bernhard Orchard, also known as Old Bern, another one of the great Oligarchs. He was strapping and hearty and loud where Kaspar was shift and quiet, but both men were physically imposing and terrifying.
I knew Redmond from a distance. We’d met a few times at several high society gatherings and charity galas over the years. Darren always insisted that I keep my distance from him, and fortunately he graduated from Blackwoods the same year as my brother.
Now though, having these two men crammed together with me at this small table sent the small hairs on my arms and neck standing up straight.
Something wasn’t right.
“How are you finding your trip so far?” Kaspar asked, sipping his coffee.
Redmond shrugged. “Nobody speaks a decent word of English around here.”
“Wouldn’t kill you to learn Italian.”
“Might not, but it’d try.” Redmond beamed at me. “How are you surviving, Pen? Kaspar treating you okay?”
I was tempted to tell him that I was a captive, but I had a feeling he already knew. “I’m okay.”
“That’s good to hear. Did he tell you why I’m here?” Redmond waggled his eyebrows and leaned in close. “It’s one hell of a plot we’re cooking up.”
“She doesn’t know,” Kaspar said.
“I suppose that’s smart. Never know what might happen between now and then.”
I looked between the two men, desperate to understand what they were talking about, but Kaspar seemed annoyed, and Redmond only laughed loudly.
“Where are you staying?” Kaspar asked.
“My father owns a flat near here. I’ll be there for the time being, until he gets into town.”
“Is that still on schedule?”
“As far as I know. Old Bern doesn’t keep me informed as to his daily habits.” Redmond rolled his eyes and spread his hands. “Believe me, it’d be easier if he did.”
“He’ll come. The bait was too tempting.”
Redmond chewed on that then leaned forward, speaking very softly. I had to turn my head to hear him.
“We’ll only get one chance at this, you know. If it doesn’t work and something goes wrong—”
“Nothing will,” Kaspar said, cocking his head.
“But if it does, know that I won’t take your side. You do understand?”
“Of course I do.”
“Good. Afterward, we’ll discuss further terms, but for now, I’m glad we get each other.”
Kaspar turned the coffee cup in circles. He seemed agitated—unsure of himself.
I’d never seen that in him before, and wondered if it was an act.
“I hope you’re prepared. After this, we can’t speak again.”
“And we won’t. Don’t worry, Kaspar. Everything’s on track. We’ll pull this off.” Redmond slammed his palms on the table and stood. My coffee cup rattled, and some spilled down the side. “I’d wish you good luck, but you’ve never seemed to need it. Either way, I’ll see you on the other side.”
Redmond turned and strode out. I sat there staring after him, not sure what the hell I just witnessed. Men like him and Kaspar rarely ever sat down together, much less in some small cafe in the middle of Rome.
“What do you think of him?” Kaspar asked me softly. His voice was calm and controlled, and when I looked back, he had his normal bored smirk.
I turned my cup in circles.
“He’s full of himself. The sort of guy that’s used to getting his way.”
Kaspar nodded and gestured impatiently for me to continue.
I glared at him.
“What else do you want? He’s smart, handsome. He’s an Oligarch’s son.”
“He’s a useful idiot.”
I flinched back. “Excuse me?”
Kaspar’s smirk faded. “I thought they taught you better in the Servant family.”
It was my turn to get angry. “If you have something you want to say, then say it. Don’t sit there and make me guess.”
“Redmond Orchard is an idiot. Oh, he’s smart, but he’s unable to think past his morning breakfast. His father, on the other hand, is a brilliant horse of a man.”
“So why ally yourself with the son?”
He leaned closer and spoke quietly. “I told you, pet. I plan on killing my way to the top.”
I let that slowly sink in.
Kaspar stood. “Come. Let’s go back to the hotel. You look like you could use some rest.” He walked to the entrance of the cafe and stared outside.
He planned on killing Old Bern.
The audacity of it snapped into focus. He wanted to murder the father and use the son as his puppet. It was absurd, of course—once Old Bern was gone, Redmond would have the power and resources of a true Oligarch—but if Kaspar was right about him, then he could be manipulated.