Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret

Chapter 134

“Liam?” Leah glances at me and I usher

her to the side. “We’ll take a table back in

the main room,” I tell Antoine.

I spin Leah around and get her on the

other side of the curtain.

“What is my brother doing here?”

“Dining,” I reply easily. “What else?”

We’re led back to a private alcove and I pull out my phone and text for my security detail to come in.

“A team will be joining us, Antoine. Please position them appropriately.”

“Of course, sir. Right away, sir.”

We sit and take the menus he extends to

us.

A bevy of waiters and bussers pour drinks and place a platter of artisan

breads on the table. Leah reads her

menu and I’m glad that she isn’t too put off by the fact that her brother is in the

same exclusive restaurant.

I wouldn’t think much of it either.

Except I know who he is eating with. And

it’s not Tobin. Or some other Council

member.

Their backs were to us, but I recognized

the tattoos on their necks. These are Old

Country Wolves. One from an Arctic pack that traces its line to the origins of our

kind. Two from a Eurasian pack that’s

anchored in Belarus.

The closest equivalent to these merciless

wolves is the mafia.

They aren’t beholden to the Council. They operate outside of it. They don’t give a sh it about humans

and would be delighted if humanity fell off a cliff.

They’re weapons dealers.

Drug traffickers.

Their back alley dealings influence entire regions and the economics of whole

countries.

What-the-actual-f**k is Liam doing, taking a meeting with them?

I can’t write this off as coincidence or

pretend that he just runs in some shady Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

circles. This is too high up. You can’t

even get a sitdown with Michail or Ryker

unless you’re brokering a transaction of

several hundred million. They don’t fo ol

around with any of the small stuff. And

the third wolf, Dorian, I don’t think he’s

left Gibraltar for twenty years or more.

What brings him to this state, now?

1

I’ve crossed paths with these Alphas a

time or two.

Michail’s pack is a bu nch of hotheads. I

taught one of Michails’ goons a lesson

not too long ago.

I’m pretty sure his limb never

regenerated.

And Ryker, he’s a known assassin.

Leah continues to peruse the menu, completely oblivious to the fact that her brother is enjoying a meal

with some of the deadliest wolves on this planet.

I order a 2018 Chateau Petrus Bordeaux.

When I see James and two of my men take up position directly outside our little room, I breathe a bit

easier. I can hold

my own, no problem.

But Leah is vulnerable.

And when she became Alpha of Pack

Roberts it sent shockwaves through the entire paranormal community.

I don’t think most wolves would think

twice about ki lling her. The power she holds is a he ll of a temptation.

Even for me.

She looks up and smiles. “This is really

nice, Aaron.”

Right. We’re on a date.

I don’t care about the food or the wine

or the exclusivity of this restaurant. I just want to get her back to that room,

unwrap her like it’s Christmas morning

and feel her body beneath me.

“I’m not sure what to order,” she

whispers.

“You don’t have to decide. It’s a tasting menu. They’re going to bring everything.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh. Wow. Okay. Glad I brought my appetite.”

Typically the servings aren’t so large, and there will be wine pairings and

palate cleansing aperitifs in between.

“Do your men want to join us,” she

whispers. But of course they can hear. “Maybe James is hungry.”

I watch James’ head tilt.

“When we’re ready to leave, they can

take our table and have a full meal too.”

One of my men pumps his fist in the air.

Leah laughs.

Antoine returns and decants the wine.

He pours some for her. “Oh no, you taste,

Aaron.”

Funny. She looks almost panicked about

it.

It’s not a big deal. It’s either good or tastes corked. She shouldn’t worry about

the pretense.

I sip and savor the flavor. “It’s good,” I

say.

Antoine looks to Leah to take a sip. But

she just smiles demurely.

She was never a big drinker, but she does like a good red wine. She must not

be in the mood tonight.

When we’re alone again I reach across

the table and take her hand.

I’m not sure why I was so determined to take her out. But sitting here with her, this feels right.

“You’re not wearing the necklace.”

Her hand goes to her throat. “I took it off

before the shower…”

I pull the chain and pendant out of my pocket with my free hand.