Page 37 of Harder Betrayal

“He’ll be at Heath’s party on Saturday.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because I know people.”

He turned in his chair and regarded me straight on. “What are you suggesting? We have a shootout in someone’s house?”

“As far as the world is concerned, you and I are still estranged. Roan won’t raise an eyebrow when he sees me there. In fact, he assumes you still think Karl is your enemy right now.”

“True.”

“So I go and slip something into his drink. He’ll die from natural causes four hours later.”

“Not a bad idea,” I said.

“Untraceable.”

“But you can’t get caught, Cauldron.”

I gave a slight laugh. “This will be a walk in the park, man.”

“Don’t be arrogant. I won’t be there to back you up.”

“And I don’t need you to back me up.”

My brother stared at me with that look of concern I hadn’t seen in a decade. “The last thing I want is for you to lose your head because of my bullshit.”

“And the last thing I want is for my brother to lose everything because some asshole decided to fuck with him. Don’t worry, I can do this.”

We stared at each other for a long time.

It’s not like I had anything to lose…

Grave continued to study me. “You’re sure?”

I nodded. “I don’t think Karl is going to be so easy, so save your energy for that…”

14

CAMILLE

The blacked-out SUV pulled up to my house in the fog. It was a cold winter night, the first week of January, a time of darkness after the death of twinkling lights. I got inside, and wordlessly, I was transferred to another part of the city.

I had no idea where I was going.

A couple minutes later, we pulled up to the Louvre. The prism was lit up like a beacon in the darkness. Even the fog couldn’t diminish it. Up the steps was a man who stood alone, fused with the darkness as if they were one and the same.

My heart quickened in my chest, not from excitement, but a twinge of fear.

I finally got out, tightened my coat around me, and walked up the steps to join him.

It was a strange meeting place. Not a clandestine get-together between lovers. More like a location for a handoff.

I came closer, recognizing his features once I drew near.

It was freezing out, but all he wore was a long-sleeved shirt with the fabric pushed to his elbows. He was in dark jeans and military boots. He looked exactly the same as the night I’d met him a few days ago.

He admired the Louvre for another moment before he acknowledged me, not with words, but a stare.