Chapter 16 #2
"You're telling me the Manor brothers are trying to sweep in and take the Branfords?” Leo's voice thickens with anger and I start to regret my decision to tell him the truth.
"Are you surprised? They've been trying to regain what we took from them years ago."
London says something to the waiter but I can't make it out because of having to mute her screen.
"I have to do something about this. We have to. Come on, Arch, you're not going to let them get away with this, are you?"
"When are you going to realize that I'm not the knocking heads type anymore, Leo? I'm done. This is as involved as I'm going to be, and if I'm honest, it's too much."
"You're going to let them walk all over our family name like that? Where's the Archer I used to know? The one that would fight for his family. The old Archer would have threatened their family, at the very least, if not put a bullet in one of their foreheads to prove a point."
"I would not have killed a Manor brother, Leo. You're out of your mind. That would be like them killing one of us. Have you forgotten the treaty?"
The treaty was put into place many, many years ago after a long-running feud between our family and the Manors.
The eldest brothers got together, August and Reid, and came to an understanding, a written one, one signed in blood, with the main point being that there would be no murder attempts on either family, by either family.
A fistfight here or there was blurring the rules a little bit, but for the most part, we stuck to it, mutual respect forced by wanting to protect our families.
There were a few other stipulations, like properties would not be attacked, and any children born by any of us were also off-limits.
But things like meddling with each other's business affairs were not off the table, and right now, they were fully trying to undercut and steal this deal out from under us.
"Who gives a shit about the treaty?" Leo blurts out.
I snatch my phone off the desk, bringing it closer to my mouth when I say, "This is why August doesn't trust you, Leo.
You're arrogant, and that arrogance is going to get one of us killed.
Don't you fucking remember why we started this?
You may have been out partying with Seven, too fucking drunk to recall when our family was falling apart, but I was there, I remember, and it was August and I who had to dig us out of the hole you led us into. "
"Geez, Arch, way to kick a man when he's down." Leo feigns hurt when I know damn well it's his ego taking the brunt of the damage. "You act like I don't care."
"Do you?" I ask him, a genuinely serious question.
"Because I can't tell half the time, Leo.
It seems like the only thing you care about is how many girls you can sleep with and how much money you can launder through that casino.
Not to mention all the other shit you're doing through there.
I heard about those diamonds that went missing. Wonder where I'd find them, brother?"
"Where else do you expect me to launder money? You shut me out of the other places. You're being unreasonable, Archer. I'm doing this for the family, to build our empire, and what are you doing, sitting in your apartment all alone because you got your heart broken?"
"How fucking dare you." I hang up the phone, not wanting to hear another word of what he has to say. Does he not realize that I control most of our finances and if I wanted to shut him out, it would be as simple as pushing a single fucking button?
I release a sobering breath and return my attention to the screen, watching as Drew excuses himself from the table. With a few keystrokes, I pull up more camera footage and follow him to a deeper part of the restaurant where he pulls out his phone.
"Hey, baby," he says into the receiver. "Yeah, I miss you, too.
I can't stop thinking about you." He goes quiet and I assume the other person fills in the silence.
Drew glances in the direction he came from and continues.
"We'll see each other soon enough, okay?
I hate being away from you. I love you, don't forget that.
" He hangs up a second later and shakes the hand of a man who walks near him. "Sir, how's it going?"
"Ah, business is booming, my boy," the older man responds. "I appreciate your help with that…situation."
"Yes, of course. Happy to be of assistance. You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."
"Well, since you're asking…" The man glances in both directions and leans in closer. "I've got this broad my nephew knocked up. She's threatening to tell his wife if he doesn't make things right."
"And what would you like me to do?" Drew asks him.
"Get rid of her."
"I see."
"Do we have an understanding?"
"Get me her information and I'll take care of it."
The way he says it, so nonchalantly like he isn't referring to a human being, a pregnant one, makes my jaw tense.
I dial London's number a second later, the dial tone skipping straight to voicemail.
"Fuck," I mutter and run my hand through my hair. That's when my sights land on the person sitting a couple of tables away from London, an old acquaintance of mine from my old life. I skim through my phone and locate his number, hitting call as soon as I find it.
It rings, and rings, and I keep my eyes glued to the screen and hope I didn't get this wrong.
He picks up a second later. "Long time no see, pal."
"Do you see that redhead to your left about twenty feet?"
"What? No hello, how are you? I thought we were close, buddy."
"Unless you want me to expose every single escort you've hired to the local tabloids, I suggest you do exactly as I say."
"Shit, man, hang on, don't get so hasty." He turns around, scanning and locking his sights on London. "The hot one sitting by herself?"
"Choose your words carefully, Jack, otherwise they'll be your last."
"Fine, fine. What do you want me to do?"
"Go give her your phone."
"What?"
"Did I stutter?"
Jack gets up and approaches London, her head doing a double take as he gets right next to her. "You've got a call."
"Excuse me?" London says with great hesitation.
"Tell her who it is," I speak loud enough so he can hear me.
"Archer," London calls out and snatches the phone from Jack. "What the fuck do you want?" Her voice is hushed.
"You need to get out of there, London. You don't know who you're on a date with."
"I don't know who I'm living with either, and that doesn't seem to stop me. Pretty sure my date is harmless, big boy." She smiles politely, if a bit falsely, at Jack.
"I'm warning you, London. I wouldn't joke about this. You need to go."
"I shut my phone off for a reason, Archer. Because I wanted to have a good evening. I think I deserve that, don't I? Why do you have to ruin this for me? What's wrong with you? And to bring some random stranger into this." She covers the speaker and says, "No offense," to Jack.
He shrugs and takes a piece of bread from the basket on London's table and bites off a chunk.
"You need to listen to me," I try to make her understand. "He's not who you think he is."
"Yeah, well, neither are you, and neither am I. I'm a grown-ass woman. I can do what I want, Archer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date to finish." She disconnects the line and gives Jack his phone back. "Sorry about that," she tells him.
"No worries, I understand how frustrating Archer can be." He nods stiffly at her. "Have a nice evening, miss."
"Thanks. You, too." London dusts off the wrinkles in her dress before returning to her seat, taking a quick glance around to no doubt see the damage caused by our conversation.
But luckily everyone seems so focused on themselves that they don't pay her much attention.
"God damn it, London," I quip.
I skim the layout of the restaurant, do a search to pull up the schematics, and go to work doing what I do best—hacking.
It takes me two entire minutes to shut the electricity off, the entire place going dark except for the occasional cell phone someone is staring at.
A dozen patrons let out a collective gasp and I can barely hide the triumphant smile on my face.
But why stop there? I disconnect the phone lines, throw a signal blocker in place, and focus my attention on the street outside. If I can just…
With the final click of the enter key, I send the traffic light flashing, cars blaring their horns and locking up their brakes.
"That ought to stall them." I move what I can over to my cell phone, putting the tracker of London's phone in one corner, and two video feeds split across the rest of the screen.
I rush to the front door, grabbing my keys off the table on the way out.
Instead of going out the main entrance, I make my way to the parking garage below our building, rush straight toward my motorcycle, and shove the key into the ignition.
The voice of my sister floats through my head and I reluctantly slide my head into my helmet before shifting into gear and launching myself out of the parking spot.
I dart through traffic, not stopping at a single red light or stop sign.
I go onto sidewalks, drive on the wrong side of the road, and cross one-ways in the wrong direction to get there as fast as my bike will take me.
I accidentally clip a car's mirror, my arm taking the brunt of the hit, pain rippling through me.
My back wheel comes off the ground as I skid to a stop to avoid hitting a woman pushing a stroller, and then once it returns to the pavement, the front wheel goes up as I speed away.
I push myself and the bike harder, faster, until my forearms ache from the force of the ride.
Except when I lock up my brakes in front of Rao's, I realize London's location has changed and she's now a block away from me. Revving the motor, I go back into action, zipping away from the chaos erupting outside of Rao's and following her trail.