47
If You Want Peace
Amanda
Breakfast is awkward.
It doesn’t help that when we walk in, Jake is smug as hell and has his hand on my ass. He wasn’t kidding. I decided not to wear jeans today, instead going for casual pajamas a lot like his normal wear. Jake still insisted on holding me for as long as he could.
The instant stop of chatter turned into glares in seconds at the sight. Jake made it worse by preening. The asshole even buffed his nails on his shirt.
I should have just made a sign.
Two down, three to go.
As if.
I drop into the chair Jake pulls out for me and bask in complete silence as he makes a plate and delicately tastes it all. He nods to himself and starts to hand the plate over but stops halfway.
He gives me a bright grin but his eyes have moved to something behind me.
“Oh, there you are, Angie. I’m glad you made it in today. If you touch Amanda’s food before she is done with it ever again, they will never be able to identify your body. Are we clear?”
My eyes widen at his happy expression while that fell out of his mouth. I can tell he’s dead serious.
I’m expecting a protest from anyone at the table. Instead, they all look at whoever is behind me as if they’re expecting a response. There isn’t a friendly face in sight.
“Y-yes,” the maid from yesterday stutters out.
“Good,” Jake’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with humor.
I watch him set the plate in front of me and stare at the scrambled eggs in disbelief. I’m almost afraid to touch it now, and the threat wasn’t for me. I barely hear her leaving in a hurry.
Run for it, lady. You’re an ass, but, damn, that was brutal.
Gabriel clears his throat, and everyone else starts eating. I’m a little too stuck in my thoughts to participate.
“I need everyone at the office today,” he starts off in a tone so frigid a chill runs down my spine. He’s definitely not happy about something.
For a second, I wonder if it’s because Jake is being so damn obvious about getting laid, but I dismiss it. The man ran for his life a nanosecond after he was done. He’s probably mad that Jake isn’t as focused as he should be.
He’s too busy staring at me like I’m some long-lost love and sighing wistfully. It’s a little nauseating.
“Can I trust that your temper has been soothed with yesterday’s destruction?”
My expression flattens out as I look across the table at Gabriel. His icy stare tries to pierce through me with disapproval I don’t care about. It’s not like I touched any of his personal shit. He can get over it.
Our stare-off ends as Jake taps a finger on my plate.
“Eat up, imp. It takes fuel to power that rage. Feel free to spread your destructive wiles all over my room. I liked the attention.”
He would.
Gabriel’s jaw ticks, that glare moving from me to Jake.
“Don’t blame me that you didn’t rate a bit of mischief,” Jake protests in an innocent tone. “Turn your jealousy somewhere else.”
“Jake,” Mikael mutters with a glare.
“Yes, Mik?” He asks sweetly.
“Shut the fuck up,” Ace snarls quietly from next to him.
I start eating just so I can’t say anything. I notice Cade is watching me with narrowed eyes.
He and Jake share. Is he expecting me to hop in his lap?
I stop chewing to send a glare his way.
He looks back at his plate and stabs his eggs.
“We’ve got a few things in the pipe,” Ace says in a more relaxed tone. I glance up to see he’s talking to me.
“I have several meetings set up with known associates for Blake,” Gabriel continues, making my brows furrow. “Something subtle enough to not draw overt attention but gain access.”
Doom pulses in my chest for a second and disappears.
“Bad idea,” I mutter with a frown.
Gabriel raises a brow and leans back in his chair.
“The rest of us are heading to different properties to scout,” Mikael adds.
“To get a better idea of where to focus,” Cade keeps stabbing at eggs without taking a bite.
That feeling hits harder.
I start shaking my head, but they ignore me.
“Starting tomorrow, you’ll have one of us with you at all times,” Gabriel starts, and Jake cuts him off.
“I’ll take the night shift.”
While everyone is trying to melt Jake with their glares, I take in what he’s saying.
“You’re setting yourself up as a buyer?” I ask, trying to pin down what emotion I should settle on without success. It’s a wild swirl of anger, panic, concern, and dread.
Jake’s phone chimes with a text, distracting him from derailing the conversation.
“I am. There’s an easy in with it. They need money. I have it,” he gestures to the ridiculous spread of food and the paintings on the wall.
He’s right. But if he’s this blatant about it, they won’t bite. Will they? It was a lot of money. They have to be freaking out.
“I don’t like it,” I shake my head again. “If they figure out what you’re up to, it’s all downhill. We can’t all hide here.”
“It’s a quick solution. You made a vacuum and I can fill it,” he brushes me off without a second thought. “I have a meeting this afternoon to begin everything.”
He isn’t going to listen.
This is an excellent reason why they have their mystery team, and I have mine.
“Have fun with that,” I bite out and shove my chair back, ready to make my own moves.
Back in my room, I lock the doors and settle in the bathroom to make a phone call.
Shade picks up and immediately starts talking.
“No photos. Matthias is still in town with several men on the ground, acting like they have no idea why they’re here. Blake’s house was raided but not trashed. I was able to pick through before the cops got called out for a suspected break-in. Someone has set up a missing person alert for you. Gabriel has himself set up as bait to attract some little fish, hoping for a bite. What do you have?”
“Good morning?” I say dryly. “I’ve got jack and shit. Still under house arrest. I haven’t had enough coffee to handle you right now. Can I call back?”
“House arrest is probably for the best,” he says in a reasonable tone I want to rip into shreds.
“Fuck that. I want my pound of flesh, Shade,” I rage as quietly as I can.
“And you’ll get it, I’m sure,” he sighs.
“Can you get me some pictures of the properties that are left? Maybe look into any weird purchases made by the lawyers or judges in the paperwork?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, and I hear paper shuffling in the background. “South has been around to all the places listed here. I’ll dig in for more.”
“Does calling you count as a check-in?” I hope it does. If not, it’s a text she won’t respond to.
“It’s been two days. She’s coming for a personal visit.”
I blink in surprise at his disgruntled tone. I open my mouth to tell him that’s a horrible idea, but he’s already hung up.
Looks like it’s time to get ready to go.
I try not to be gleeful about it and fail miserably.