Page 46 of Death Game: Supernatural Battle

Cold, cold bastard.

He wanted to use Kyros.

“He’s going to be really powerful one day, isn’t he?” I asked after an explosion of laughter from the dance floor.

In seventy years, he’d reach maturity. I’d be ninety-two.Surviving that long was something I hoped for while knowing I’d be dead at seventy-five like a good little statistic. The only way to be with Kyros when he matured was to become a Vissimo. If I died, he’d go berserk and be killed too. Yet seeing as my various sources of guilt wouldn’t let me consider our relationship as anything long term, turning into a vampire was still something I refused to contemplate.

Laurel regarded me through hard blue eyes. “One day, he’ll rule all Vissimo, Basi.”

I jerked, frowning at her. Was she serious?

She continued, “He’ll rule us. Or he’ll destroy us. And which path he takes is entirely up to you.”

9

“You’re kidding. Eight percent?” I stared at the screen which currently showed my Churchill team on the other side of the video call.

A woman in the middle flipped through a file. She stood, addressing me. “Yes, ma’am. Last week saw an increase of 8 percent in house acquisition. A 2 percent rise in rentals and leases.”

Well, shit.

“I take it the new employees are doing well.” My trouble property employees were behind this change. Led by Mrs Hannah.

The CEO cleared his throat. “Correct, Miss Le Spyre. Interestingly, our four newest employees were previously owners of properties from the trouble list. The houses sold last week were all from the trouble list too.”

I smiled despite my fatigue. “Good.”

In coming weeks, I’d hire more of them. But I needed to see how Sundulus reacted to the surge first.

Disconnecting the call, I climbed the stairs to my regular office, and pulled out my phone.

Staring at Tommy’s number, I chewed on my lip, typing.

Please message so I know you’re okay

I hovered my thumb over Send. She was physically okay. Laurel gave me a report every day on Tommy’s status. But was sheokayin her heart, in her mind, and in her soul?

Hitting Send, I scrolled through my contacts until I reached the nameGet Strawberries. I held the phone to my ear.

“Miss Le Spyre.”

Two rings. Not bad.

“Jordan,” I greeted. “Give me an update.”

I heard frantic rustling. Jordan was young, and managing a nightclub was a massive step up for her. During the three-month trial, she’d sink or swim. I had a feeling she’d swim—and well.

“Publicity after the opening night is insane. Exactly what we were going for. Nobody could hear a peep. They have no idea what was going on inside. I had Quin put up one post across our social media detailing opening hours next Thursday.”

Opening my Instagram that I’d never posted with, but always stalkedTruth Rangescelebrities on, I pulled up the post. Black background. A handful of words in the middle.

Forbidden.

“Perfect. What else?”

I listened as she detailed various themes and edges she had planned. I’d already used my influence to pull in renowned DJs from outside Bluff City.

When she finished, I said, “Discuss your ideas with the marketing team and research which will be better received. I’d like a schedule by the end of the week. In addition, approach the four most popular bars in Black. Invite them to participate in a club crawl—with a better name, obviously. The crawl will end at our club at midnight.”

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