Page 81 of A Vicious Love

Marcel shut the door. “You look worse.”

“I said get out.”

“We heard you.”

“And yet.”

“And yet,” Harrison said, lifting his glass toward me, “here we are, ignoring your emotional range of murder and mild murder.”

I looked at Marcel. “Collect your brother.”

“He is your brother too.”

“Regrettably.”

Harrison grinned. “Love you, Jase.”

I stared at him until his grin turned sharp with the knowledge that he was pushing because he could.

Marcel moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. “Damius called.”

Every muscle in my back locked.

Harrison’s grin faded.

I lowered the tablet onto the desk. “Did he?”

“Yes.”

“What does the old corpse want now?”

Marcel gave me a look. “You know what.”

No.

I did not know what.

Damius never wanted one thing. He always enjoyed when people remembered he could still reach them from Villain, Harlan, or a grave if science ever stopped bending for him.

Harrison watched me over the rim of his glass. “This about Sienna?”

“No,” I said.

Both of them stared at me.

I hated them.

“It’s about the Bellemere debt,” I corrected.

Harrison snorted. “Right. And Romeo was concerned about Verona property law.”

“Another word.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough.” Marcel cut in. He rarely raised his voice. He was the brother who could make silence behave.

“What are you doing?” Marcel asked.,