Page 52 of The Devil

“They have eyes and ears everywhere. You fucking know that!” That last part he says with so much fury, it’s completely unlike him. Sev is the embodiment of self-control. He never loses his shit. So, for him to lose it, it’s bad.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit about sums it up. They’ve sent the guard, Jet. They’re buzzing around the club, outside my office. And I’ve received a formal invitation.”

“What invitation?”

“Well, more of a summons, really.”

“What summons then?”

“We’re to appear before The Tribunal. The Councilors have questions we need to answer.”

16

JET

Iremain in the armchair in a dark corner of the lobby and look at my phone, my brother patiently waiting. Severin’s message comes in, the image taking a minute to download. It’s a snapshot of the order to appear before the Tribunal of Scotland. Because IVI doesn’t send invites. They issue summons. And woe to the man who ignores the order.

“We’re no longer part of the organization,” I say to Sev. “They have no power over us.”

“They will always have power over us. You’re naïve if you truly believe otherwise. Tell me what the fuck happened because I’m guessing it wasn’t you who pawned that damned thing. Hell, I’d have thought you’d have smashed it on that cliff you insist on living in. Hurled it to the bottom of the ocean.”

“It’s not as though I didn’t try,” I hear myself say.

Sev is quiet for a beat. “Was it stolen?” he finally asks, self-control firmly back in place.

Sev knows what happened with grandfather. He knows the whole story. He’s the only one who knows all the sordid details, and I know there’s a part of him that feels the weight of guilt to this day, even though there was no way he could have stopped it. No fucking way.

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“Complicated as in it was my wife who stole it.”

“Wait. What?”

It’s rare to surprise Severin Blackstone. Rarer still to get any sort of emotional reaction out of him. But a gold star to me. I’ve done it twice in one phone call.

I look up to find Amal walking out of the restaurant and into the lobby, one of my men following behind her. When she spots me, I rise to my feet. “Like I said, complicated. I’ll introduce you when you get here because I assume you’re on your way,” I say to Severin.

“Jesus Christ, Jet. What the fuck is going on? Is it fucking Trevino? Did he force you⁠—”

“When do you get in? I don’t imagine you’re flying commercial.”

I cross the lobby to meet Amal halfway.

“I’ll be there by morning. Where do I find you and your wife?”

“Balmoral.” I wrap a hand around the back of Amal’s neck feeling how delicate it is. How vulnerable. “See you at breakfast.”

“Who are we going to see at breakfast?” Amal asks as I lead her toward the elevator.

“Joe, have the valet bring my car around, will you?” I tell the ever-present bellman before turning to Amal. “My brother.” The elevator doors slide open and I walk her inside.

“You haven’t eaten. Don’t you want to finish your dinner?” she asks, confused as the doors slide closed and I turn to face her, pushing my hands into my pockets before I do anything stupid like smash the mirror on the back wall of the elevator. I look at my wife. My troublesome little wife.

“Of all the watches you could have stolen, you had to take that one?”