Page 252 of Chaos Kills

“I’m glad to hear it.” Emilio puts down his glass and studies the table of cheerless faces and deep thoughts. “Torin, I’m hoping you’re able to contribute your knowledge and help make this successful. You’ve been a pillar here, in The Landings, and a key to making this effective and flourishing.”

“I think she’s taken enough things away from me, don’t you think?”

Honestly, Emilio doesn’t know how to read a room properly. The sheer audacity that we’d all be sitting at this table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company, makes me believe he’s doing this to torture everyone.

Including me.

“We need to move past certain things,” Emilio emits. “It’s all part of?—”

“I’m here for the shitshow,” Torin cuts in, sending his unamused expression to his father. “Not to show support.”

“Good,” replies a familiar and new voice inside the room. “I’d rather you step back and go pout in the corner somewhere, Wildes. You’re always in the fuckin’ way.”

Levi.

My eyes connect with his striding form, tattoos galore clashing against the expensive decor Emilio picked out for this space.

Each step is confident, owning the room, in a white tee that outlines every single one of his muscles that grow a bit more rigid the closer he gets. Our eyes connect, always vibing, and I’m a mixture of sheer relief and confusion.

He knew I was going to be here, but he didn’t say anything about coming and sitting down at this table.

“Mr. Wallace,” Emilio greets with faux enthusiasm. “Happy you agreed to come.”

“Well, she is very important to me.” He pulls out the chair on the other side of the table, across from Emilio, like he’s the otherhead of this conversation. Allowing it to drag loudly against the polished hardwood floors just to tell everyone in the room he’s unbothered by proper conversation and decorum. He just wants to get this shit over with. “But you knew that already, didn’t you, Wildes?”

“Of course, I did,” Emilio emits. “She grew up in South Shore. It would only make sense?—”

“Let’s cut the shit and get to business.” He plops down and leans back, bulgy bicep draped over the edge of it. He screamskingin this moment. A strong presence at this table among men who have either loved or forced me in their life. “What the hell do you want? And, full disclosure, I didn’t check my shit at the door. I have a bullet for each one of you sitting at the table.”

“You need to work on your people skills, son,” Emilio divulges, his tone flicking to annoyed but not yet fully surprised. “You were invited to talk about the next steps. I know you’re going to support Haven.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

Yep, it’s confirmed.

Emilio Wildes really doesn’t know how to read the room or who to invite to it.

“Do you need to re-enter and leave your smartass mouth at the door?” Emilio grinds out through a glower. “Because I can assure you, I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m good where I am, thanks.” Levi rubs his thumb and index finger together, staring straight down the table at the other king who’s about to allegedly step down. “However, I’m confused.”

“With?”

“How you thought we were going to believe you about all this.”

Emilio remains quiet for a moment before saying, “Roger stepped down for you.”

“Roger had other plans.”

“And so do I. I’m happy to retire.”

“And leave the psycho son to watch over her?” Levi slowly rocks his head back and forth, referring to Ramsey. I think. “I don’t like that idea.”

“Things will only get violent if they need to be,” Ramsey vouches, breaking through his silence and not seeming a bit bothered by Levi’s presence. A slightly older version of Torin, yet he’s missing that boy-next-door charm across his expression. “I mean, you don’t plan on assassinating all of us again, do you? I’d highly suggest against it.”

Levi doesn’t pry his heavy focus from Emilio. “It’s crossed my mind a few times.”

Reeve sighs heavily across the table, expressing how he’s feeling about this whole charade, and I can concur that I feel the same.