Chapter 61 Bluffing a Gangster
The pizza shop was a wreck.
Chairs were overturned. Tables were broken. Plates and glasses were shattered across the floor. The smell of pizza still hung in the air, mixed with the sharper scent of fear.
Veyra stood in the center of it all, the Nightblade still in her hand, her eyes moving from one tied-up thug to the next. Four of them were on their knees, their hands bound behind their backs with nylon rope. Their faces were masks of confusion and rage.
Aunt Clark had helped with the tying. Her hands had been shaking at first, but she had found her courage. She had pulled the rope tight, checking each knot twice.
Now she stood beside Veyra, her cheek still red from Xander Hale’s slap, her eyes hard.
Xander Hale was the only one still standing. His hands were tied behind his back. His cheap suit was wrinkled. His slicked-back hair had come loose in the struggle, falling across his forehead.
He was breathing hard. His eyes were darting around the shop, looking for an exit, looking for a weapon, looking for anything.
Veyra stepped out from behind him.
She moved slowly. She wanted him to see her face. To know who had done this to him.
Xander Hale’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open.
"You," he said.
His voice was hoarse with disbelieving.
Veyra raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
"I know you." He stared at her. His eyes moved over her face, her hair, her clothes. "You’re the one who married that bodyguard. The one who ran away from the Thorne family."
Veyra almost laughed. The rumors about her had clearly spread far and wide. And they were all wrong. She had not run away. She had been thrown away. And Dorian was not a bodyguard. He was the head of the entire family.
But she did not correct him. Let him believe what he wanted.
"You’re Veyra," Xander Hale said. "The dropout. The one who slept her way into the family."
Veyra’s grip tightened on the gun. But her face remained calm.
"You don’t know anything about me," she said.
"I know enough." Xander Hale’s lips curled into a sneer. "I know you’re nothing. I know the Thorne family doesn’t want you. I know your husband is just a hired thug."
Veyra smiled. It was not a nice smile.
"Keep talking," she said. "Every word you say gives me another reason to pull this trigger."
Xander Hale’s sneer faltered.
Veyra turned to Aunt Clark. "Do you have more rope? We need to tie him up too."
Aunt Clark nodded. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with another coil of rope. Her hands were steady now.
"You want me to tie him?" Aunt Clark asked.
"Yes. And make it tight."
Aunt Clark walked behind Xander Hale. She looped the rope around his wrists, pulling hard. The rope bit into his skin. He grunted.
"You’re making a mistake," Xander Hale said. His voice was low. Threatening. "The Thorne family will hear about this. Percy Thorne will hear about this. He won’t let you get away with humiliating me."
Veyra tilted her head. "Percy Thorne?"
"You know who he is. He’s the real power behind the family and not that bodyguard you married." Xander Hale’s eyes glittered. "You lay a finger on me, and he’ll make you disappear."
Veyra stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed.
It was a genuine laugh. Surprising even herself.
"Percy Thorne?" she said. "I don’t know who that is. And I don’t care."
Xander Hale’s face went red. "You should care. He’s—"
"If Percy Thorne wants to come after me, let him." Veyra stepped closer. Her voice dropped. "In fact, if he can bring down the Thorne family, I’ll thank him. Personally. With a fruit basket."
Xander Hale’s mouth opened in shcok.
He had no response.
Aunt Clark finished tying the knots. She stepped back. Her work was good. The rope was tight. Xander Hale would not be getting free anytime soon.
Veyra nodded at her. "Thank you."
Aunt Clark nodded back. Her face was still pale. But her eyes were clear.
Xander Hale looked at Veyra. His eyes moved over her body very slowly now.
"So," he said. "You married a bodyguard to escape an arranged marriage. I heard the rumors."
Veyra said nothing.
"You could have done better." Xander Hale’s voice was oily and suggestive. "A woman like you. Pretty. Feisty. You don’t belong with some hired muscle."
He leaned forward as much as his bonds would allow.
"I have connections," he said. "Money. Power. More than that bodyguard of yours could dream of."
Veyra raised an eyebrow.
"Why don’t you leave him?" Xander Hale continued. "Come work for me. I’ll treat you better. You won’t have to scrape and bow to the Thorne family anymore."
He smiled. His teeth were yellow.
"I’ll make you my mistress. My number one. You’ll want for nothing."
Veyra stared at him and her thoughts drifted off to Dorian. About his gray eyes. About the way he had stepped between her and the Old Madam’s walking stick and the way he had called her during the phone call, his voice soft and warm.
Then she looked at Xander Hale. At his cheap suit, his yellow teeth and finally at his slicked-back hair.
She laughed again.
"You?" she said. "You want me to be your mistress?"
Xander Hale’s smile faltered. "What’s so funny?"
"You." Veyra shook her head. "You’re pathetic. You come into an old woman’s shop and slap her because she won’t give you her daughter. You threaten to destroy her business. And then you think a woman like me would be interested in you?"
Xander Hale’s face darkened. "You don’t know who you’re—"
"I know exactly who you are." Veyra stepped closer. The gun was still in her hand. "You’re a bully. A coward. The kind of man who preys on the weak because he’s too weak to face someone his own size."
She raised the gun. She pressed the muzzle between his legs.
Xander Hale’s eyes went wide. His face drained of color.