presence of a neighboring
court.
“I know that Dad would
do what's best for the family, and that what's best is to make peace that we
can both benefit from,” Seth says, his expression holding stoically. Let there
be no doubt in his sincerity.
Remi has taken to his
last bite of filet, and he holds eye contact as he eviscerates it. He plays the
moment with expertise, and ease, and he washes down his bite with a long drink
of wine. The air in the room is so thick it's hard to breathe. Remi wipes his
mouth, and leaves the napkin on the plate.
His face is unreadable,
as is his tone, when he says, “I will grant you a truce, Seth. Because I
believe you. I want to see you prove it. Let it be understood that this is not
a deal done in blood. If you choose to move against me, no amount of money in
the world will save your family.”
Remi stands, so Seth
does the same. The twins shift, scowling at Seth, who makes no movements but to
reach an open hand across the table again. He says, “I have no reason to move
against you, save to keep anyone else from dying.”
Remi glances coldly at
Seth's hand, but he accepts. The grip is hard, and it strings familiar pain
through the barely healed break below his elbow. He doesn't show that it hurts.
“Good day then,” says
Remi, and he leaves the room, the twins trailing him and still shooting heated
glares at the modest Morgan entourage.
When the door closes,
Seth sinks back into his chair, his tension and apprehension leaking from him
in a sigh. He bumps his shoulder against the wood, and hisses his pain. His
nerves shudder from his center out, and he feels like the world's about to
shake apart.
Tinney steps up to the
chair, casting a concerned look at his king. He half expects to see the little
boy, staring up at him for guidance. But he doesn't, he sees his best friend so
many years ago, when the stress came out where no one could see. No one but
Tinney, or Emilio.
“Are you going to eat?”
Tinney asks.
Seth takes another shaky
breath, and sits up. He says, “No, do you want it?”
“I don't eat sushi,”
Tinney says flatly. “Are you ready?”
Seth stares down at the
brightly colored food for a forlorn moment. Then he nods. “Yeah.
Let's go.”
Chapter 9 . Upstate
New York. October 10th.
Rama's
Dark Eyes Are Wide as he watches the expansive forest pass by around them. Seth's
Bentley winds along the long road to the state's -best-kept secret. The resort
is called Valhalla , and it's nestled
at the base of a mountain, on the shore of a lake. He hears Seth chuckle beside
him, but he ignores it. There is something so peaceful about a forest. With a
pang, he realizes that he misses home, and the honesty in the criminal world of
Bangkok. Seth says, “You look like
you've never seen a bunch of trees before.”
Rama continues to refuse
the king his attention. Seth isn't trying to be cruel, at least Rama is fairly
sure he's not, but the words sting.
His breath creates
condensation on the glass when he quietly says, “The trees of your parks are
restrained by concrete and exhaust. Here, they're free.”
Seth quiets, and Rama
hears him moving. Rama hasn't asked why Seth chose to leave Emma behind. He
won't. There are so many questions he won't ask. Why is she pushing him away,
holding up such a cold mask? What happened in Santa Lucia? What else does he
have to do to prove to her that he's real?
Then, he gets it. Seth
is smart. He's caught the tension between his cousin and his ally. Could this
be his way of expressing concern? Rama hears the click of lighter, and his
attention betrays him.
He turns in time to see
Seth raise a lighter to the end of a joint, his eyes hidden behind his
sunglasses, but his lips curling into a grin. Rama's eyes widen, though they
are also hidden. Just when he thought he was getting to know the youngest
Morgan brother, this.
Who is this?
Seth takes a couple
puffs, holds the last one. And he
court.
“I know that Dad would
do what's best for the family, and that what's best is to make peace that we
can both benefit from,” Seth says, his expression holding stoically. Let there
be no doubt in his sincerity.
Remi has taken to his
last bite of filet, and he holds eye contact as he eviscerates it. He plays the
moment with expertise, and ease, and he washes down his bite with a long drink
of wine. The air in the room is so thick it's hard to breathe. Remi wipes his
mouth, and leaves the napkin on the plate.
His face is unreadable,
as is his tone, when he says, “I will grant you a truce, Seth. Because I
believe you. I want to see you prove it. Let it be understood that this is not
a deal done in blood. If you choose to move against me, no amount of money in
the world will save your family.”
Remi stands, so Seth
does the same. The twins shift, scowling at Seth, who makes no movements but to
reach an open hand across the table again. He says, “I have no reason to move
against you, save to keep anyone else from dying.”
Remi glances coldly at
Seth's hand, but he accepts. The grip is hard, and it strings familiar pain
through the barely healed break below his elbow. He doesn't show that it hurts.
“Good day then,” says
Remi, and he leaves the room, the twins trailing him and still shooting heated
glares at the modest Morgan entourage.
When the door closes,
Seth sinks back into his chair, his tension and apprehension leaking from him
in a sigh. He bumps his shoulder against the wood, and hisses his pain. His
nerves shudder from his center out, and he feels like the world's about to
shake apart.
Tinney steps up to the
chair, casting a concerned look at his king. He half expects to see the little
boy, staring up at him for guidance. But he doesn't, he sees his best friend so
many years ago, when the stress came out where no one could see. No one but
Tinney, or Emilio.
“Are you going to eat?”
Tinney asks.
Seth takes another shaky
breath, and sits up. He says, “No, do you want it?”
“I don't eat sushi,”
Tinney says flatly. “Are you ready?”
Seth stares down at the
brightly colored food for a forlorn moment. Then he nods. “Yeah.
Let's go.”
Chapter 9 . Upstate
New York. October 10th.
Rama's
Dark Eyes Are Wide as he watches the expansive forest pass by around them. Seth's
Bentley winds along the long road to the state's -best-kept secret. The resort
is called Valhalla , and it's nestled
at the base of a mountain, on the shore of a lake. He hears Seth chuckle beside
him, but he ignores it. There is something so peaceful about a forest. With a
pang, he realizes that he misses home, and the honesty in the criminal world of
Bangkok. Seth says, “You look like
you've never seen a bunch of trees before.”
Rama continues to refuse
the king his attention. Seth isn't trying to be cruel, at least Rama is fairly
sure he's not, but the words sting.
His breath creates
condensation on the glass when he quietly says, “The trees of your parks are
restrained by concrete and exhaust. Here, they're free.”
Seth quiets, and Rama
hears him moving. Rama hasn't asked why Seth chose to leave Emma behind. He
won't. There are so many questions he won't ask. Why is she pushing him away,
holding up such a cold mask? What happened in Santa Lucia? What else does he
have to do to prove to her that he's real?
Then, he gets it. Seth
is smart. He's caught the tension between his cousin and his ally. Could this
be his way of expressing concern? Rama hears the click of lighter, and his
attention betrays him.
He turns in time to see
Seth raise a lighter to the end of a joint, his eyes hidden behind his
sunglasses, but his lips curling into a grin. Rama's eyes widen, though they
are also hidden. Just when he thought he was getting to know the youngest
Morgan brother, this.
Who is this?
Seth takes a couple
puffs, holds the last one. And he
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