If you’re new to this serial, you can find part 1 right HERE
Wolf stood near the pool tables and kept an eye on the guests. Brothers from all the nearby chapters had been arriving all evening, and now that the sun was setting, the party was getting loud and rowdy. It also made it harder for him to keep an eye on Reaper. He still wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to feel about the fact she was Death’s daughter. Deep down, he could understand why she had kept the information to herself, but mostly he felt an odd sense of betrayal. She had brought himself, Phantom and all their brothers in danger by not telling them. If Death found out what they had done, he would probably kill them all.
Sounds of a scuffle reached him, and he put his beer down on a table and moved through the mass of people. They might all be guests, but he was still the VP of this club, and he wasn’t about to let them destroy the clubhouse over a stupid fight. The men in front of him stepped aside, and he took in the scene, not sure how to react.
Reaper had one of his brothers from another chapter, Pete, pinned across the bar, a knife solid under his jaw. The tip of the blade was pressed hard enough against his skin to call forth a few drops of blood. Death or Phantom wasn’t anywhere nearby, so he walked closer to Reaper, keeping an eye on everyone around him. If one of his brothers made a wrong move, he had no doubt Reaper would take out Pete. She didn’t look scared or angry. She wasn’t even breathing hard. No, her eyes were cold, her face relaxed into a pleasant mask that revealed nothing. Wolf stared at her and felt a tendril of fear mixed with a heavy dose of arousal in his stomach.
“Reaper, what happened?” He spoke low, carefully, not interested in spooking her. He saw Phantom out the corner of his eye as the man broke through the watching people and took in everything.
“He attacked me,” she said in a voice that matched her cold exterior. She didn’t look away from Pete, but Wolf didn’t doubt for a second she knew everything that was happening around her. If he had had even a sliver of doubt about her being a killer for hire, it was all eradicated. Damn, the bitch was cold.
“You killed my brother,” Pete said, each word making a few more drops of blood run down his throat.
“Your brother?” Wolf asked, hoping that if he just kept them all talking, he could come up with a plan that wouldn’t get anyone killed.
“Vincent Morello. He was killed over a stupid fucking gambling dept. I joined the club so when I found his killer, I would have the strength to avenge him and my brothers to stand at my back. And now I find that his killer is here, being protected by us? What the fuck, man.” Pete struggled a bit, and to Wolf’s surprise, Reaper stepped back, looking at the man with a slight frown, her mask cracking a little.
“Vincent Morello. Little Vinnie.” Reaper’s frown deepened as if she was trying to remember something. “I remember him. Owed the New York Mob almost two hundred kilo. Killed three of their people before the contract was given to me. They wanted his death to be an example.”
Pete clenched his fists, but Wolf had him in his strong grip before he could make a move.
“An example? You fucking butchered him. I saw his body. I read the report. He had been skinned, fingers cut off, ear missing, a nail through his tongue, both knees busted, and beaten with what the coroner guessed was both a baseball bat and brass knuckles with spikes. His jaw was broken in fucking three places. He didn’t have a single rib that hadn’t been broken. You even fucking cut off his dick.” Pete sagged in Wolf’s hold, and Wolf let him fall to his knees. “Why? Why did you do it?”
Reaper looked Pete dead in the eye and said in a calm voice that made it run cold down Wolf’s back, “His contract was given to me.”
Pete surged to his feet, but Wolf caught him again. Reaper didn’t even flinch.
“Get him out of here, let him cool off a bit.” Death’s order came from behind him, and two men walked up and grabbed Pete, pulling him out of the house.
“So it’s true then?” Death asked, his eyes hard and his body tense.
“What’s true?” Reaper stood alone in the circle of brothers. She looked relaxed, almost bored, and her face was still that cold mask that betrayed nothing. She had the naked knife in her hand, a few drops of blood clinging to the blade. Her other hand casually rested on the hilt of the knife at her hip. Wolf realized that the knife in her hand probably belonged to Pete.
“That you’re working for the Mob.”
Reaper didn’t deny Death’s accusation, and the older man ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.
“For fuck sake, Jennif-” Death started but was cut off by the knife that sliced into the floor between his legs.
“Do not fucking call me that. Jennifer died the day you decided she wasn’t worth rescuing because it could cost you your drug trade. The name is Jenny Reaper.”
Wolf tensed, not sure what the hell to do. He felt like a spectator, knowing everything would go wrong but not able to do a single fucking thing about it. His mind was utterly blank.
He watched Reaper turn and slam a knife into the belly of one of the brothers that had come up behind her. Before the man even registered what happened, Reaper yanked the blade free and backed up against the bar.