“My apologies, Ms. Delacroix, but he couldn’t make it.”
“What did you do?” Her eyes narrow as her cheeks turn a high crimson.
“We had a chat, and he decided his time was better spent elsewhere. So, I went ahead and took his reservation. You don’t mind having lunch with me, do you?”
“I’d rather eat with a den of vipers,” she hisses.
“Is that so, Evie?”
Her mouth opens, but no words come out. Yes, I know who she is now. Clever girl. My gaze strays to her hairline, to that false shade of blonde, and then to her eyes, a blue that doesn’t fit. The last time I’d seen her was the night of the Sovereign ceremony, the night when the Acquisition came to a gruesome end. What a wonderful evening it was.
It was also the night when I killed her brother. No wonder it had been so easy for her to pull the trigger.
She snaps her mouth closed, her eyes burning. “It doesn’t matter that you know my old name.”
“Does it matter that you shot me in the chest, and I have the entire incident on 4k video that I could easily hand over to the police? You were, of course, wearing a mask, but my cameras stretch quite far across my property and onto my neighbor’s. Including along the gravel road by the bayou, the one where you returned to your car and removed your mask. HD video is quite detailed, I find.” I must admit I love torturing her like this. Every word from my mouth is a lie. I have no video of her, and I wouldn’t trust the police with my luggage, much less my life. But the words still seem to hit her hard, because the color drains from her face.
“Please, Evie. Sit down.” I gesture to the chair across from me.
I don’t know why she complies. Not exactly. But I suspect that if she didn’t, her knees might give out on her.
I unfold her napkin and drape it across her lap. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for you. I’ll get you a Shirley Temple from the bar.”
That gets her to look at me. “I’ll have a gin and tonic. Double.”
It seems I’m not the only one with a rotten liver, according to Teddy. Our server arrives after I send him a glance, and I order her drink.
Once he’s gone again, I sip my own cocktail and study my enemy. I can imagine her mind is a whirlwind of worry and fear right now. Terror, maybe. She’s probably scared that I—
“I hate your fucking guts.” Her voice is low, almost feral. “This changes nothing. I’m still going to take Magnolia from you.”
I didn’t think I could get shocked anymore. I was wrong. This woman—fuck, the brass balls she has. She wants me dead, and I want to know what she tastes like.
“There’s no chance of that, darlin’. If you’ll remember your history, you’ll know that the Vinemonts always come out on top.”
Her nostrils flare as I emphasize the last two words. Interesting. Maybe little Evie has grown into a woman who wants things she shouldn’t. Like, for example, the man who killed her brother in cold blood. In my defense, Red Witherington was a murderous bastard who would’ve robbed, killed, and raped his way through this world if I’d left him alive. Still, blood is blood. He was hers. And his blood is on my hands.
“I don’t care what fairy tales you and your vicious brothers tell yourselves about your family name. I know who you are and what you’re capable of.”
“You do?” I sip my drink as hers arrives. “You know all the men I’ve killed? The ways I did it? How much I enjoyed it?”
“I saw you, Lucius.” She grips her drink, her knuckles going white.
Our food arrives, and she glares at me the entire time our servers lay out a feast before us.
Once they’re gone, she continues, “I saw what you did to Red. I saw the glee in your evil fucking face as you sank the knife into his heart while I begged you not to.”
I shrug.
Her eyes flash, and she starts to rise.
I reach out and grab her by the hair, keeping her in her seat.
She lets out a scream, and then she looks around. Her voice, a pitch higher and feigning desperation: “Someone, please, help!”
The restaurant doesn’t react. Everyone continues eating, drinking, talking—though perhaps it’s a little more subdued than before.
I pull her closer to me, leaning her from her chair so far that she has to rely on my hold in her hair to keep herself upright. “No one’s going to help you, Evie.” I duck my head and run my lips across her throat.
She gasps. “Help! Please!”
Licking the fluttering vein along her neck, I get a faint taste of her, of the sweet and salty. Fear and desire. Fuck, I want so much more.