Chapter 260
#Chapter 260 – Taking her Out
Victor and Edgar sit in the driver and passenger seats of a basic ck sedan with darkly tinted
windows, watching the restaurant where Amelia has agreed to meet for lunch.
“Seriously, Victor,” Edgar says quietly, staring out the window and not at his friend. “You don’t think
Amelia is going to be suspicious when she sees me getting out of this car?”
Victor just shakes his head. “No. Amelia doesn’t pay attention to cars unless they’re luxury vehicles.
Bad shoes, she’ll notice. Boring car…under her radar. Besides,” he pauses for a moment. Curious,
Edgar turns to look at him. “She thinks you’re poor. It won’t bug her that you’re getting out of a cheap
car.”
Edgar rolls his eyes and looks back to the restaurant. “You just added another thousand dors to the
tab for that,” he murmurs, looking around.
Victor justughs, a sound that doesn’t express the steely determination he feels inside. This is going
to work – even if something goes wrong, he’s going to make it work.
Both men’s heads turn when they see a tall, slim figure in impossibly high heels turn the corner and
head for the door of the restaurant.
“Go time,” Victor says softly, hunching down a little in his seat even though he knows Amelia can’t see
him.
“In a minute,” Edgar says softly, watching her every move. “Let her go inside first, getfortable.
Then I’ll move.”
Victor nods, happy to let Edgar make the call. It is, after all, an operation that hinges on his ability to
make Amelia feel at ease. If she figures out the trap and bolts, they may never get this chance again.
A few tense minutes pass as Edgar and Victor watch Amelia be seated in the busy restaurant. Finally,
Edgar sits up straight when he sees Amelia roll her eyes, finally bored enough to take a sip of her water
and check her phone. Clearly, she’s calm now.
“All right,” Edgar says, looking Victor solidly in the eye. “Ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes,” Victor agrees.
Edgar gets out of the car, and, after he enters the restaurant, Victor puts the car in drive and pulls down
the road. It makes him crazy to not actually see the action go down – he, of course, wants to be part of
all of it. But he trusts Edgar, trusts his men, and he needs to y his own role in this whole charade.
So, he goes in blind and crosses his fingers that in ten minutes everything goes precisely as they
nned.
Edgar enters the restaurant, slipping his hands into his pockets and making his way over to her – this
incredibly beautiful, remarkably cruel and vengeful woman. Edgar can’t help the smirk that crosses his
face. Honestly, he has to admit that he kind of likes that Amelia has some heat in her veins. That she
didn’t just roll over and let herself be casually dumped by her mate, the most powerful Alpha in the
country.
Of course, she went way too far, starting a war and burning down her ex’s house.
But still. Edgar likes them spicy.
“Hello, Beta,” Amelia says, a little smile ying on her own lips as he crosses the room to her.
“Amelia,” he replies, sinking into his chair ignoring her little dig. He’s not a Beta anymore, but Amelia is
trying to let him know – not so subtly – that in her book he will always be subservient to her.
Well, he thinks. We’ll just see about that.
Amelia takes a deep breath, picking up the menu between two fingers and scanning the contents. “Why
did you pick this dump?” she asks. “Italian food is…so over.”
“Is it?” Edgar asks, picking up the old familiar menu and pretending to nce over the contents. “I was
unaware. I thought you’d like it. It’s…European.”
“Italy is barely Europe,” Amelia murmurs, sighing and looking around.
“Oh,” Edgar replies, smiling at her. “Well, you’ll have to let the Italians in on that little secret. I’m not
sure they’re aware.”
Amelia res at him then, crossing her arms over her chest, tired of the game. “So, what do you have
for me, Edgar?” she says, her voice tight. “You promised me something useful on Evelyn, that whore.”
“You know they’re engaged now, right?” Edgar asks casually, reaching for his ss of water and taking
a sip, enjoying the way Amelia’s lips go stiff with rage and her cheeks flush red when she hears the
news.
“No,” she bites out, between her teeth. “I did not know that.” She narrows her eyes at him. “It hasn’t
been on any of the gossip blogs or in the media. How do you know?”
He shrugs a little. “My intel is just better than yours.”
“Fine,” she growls, taking his bait a bit, getting angry precisely when he wants her angry enough to be
distracted as the waiters walk between the tables with empty trays, not delivering any food. “You said
you’re on my side, Edgar – that you want Victor and Evelyn taken down because they did to you what
they did to me. So, if your intel is so good, tell me what you have on her.”
“What’s it worth to you?” Edgar asks, holding Amelia’s gaze and deliberately not looking at the door to
the kitchen opening behind her.
“It’s worth,” she hisses, “what it’s worth. I’ll pay you when I know what you’ve got.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Edgar continues, shaking his head at her.
“Then how, precisely, does it work?” Amelia asks, staring into his eyes, angry.
Edgar leans forward, holding her gaze. “Like this,” he whispers. And then he raises his hand and snaps
his fingers once.
The room bursts into action. Everyone – chefs, waiters, patrons – they all drop precisely what they’re
doing and move, as one, to cover the exits, to block her movement. Two of the waiters – too muscr
for the job – drop their trays and grab Amelia. She screams as one twists her arms behind her back,
another pping a strip of duct tape across her mouth so that the sound is immediately cut off.
Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDra/ma.O(r)g!
An old woman running the reception quickly finishes closing the blinds and then nods to Edgar, a warm
smile on her face, happy to help. Edgar gives her a happy nod and then gestures to the waiters, who
hoist Amelia into the air. As a trio, they head through the kitchen and towards the back of the
restaurant.
Amelia struggles and screams as they pass the empty galley, the cool burners. Edgar knew she
wouldn’t order any food anyway, so the actual chefs who work here got the day off. Everyone else in
the restaurant had all been Victor’s people, happy to y pretend for the day.
It had barely been a gamble. Amelia’s struggles are no match for the Betas’ strength, and she’s carried
to the back door, where two more Betas wait with more duct tape, which they wrap around her ankles,
her thighs, and binding her upper arms to her torso so that the supermodel is neatly bound and
gagged, ready for the next part of the n.
When she’s ready, Edgar nods and one of the Betas pushes open the door, which opens to face the
open back doors of a white delivery van.
And, standing right next to those open doors, is Victor.
Amelia’s eyes go wide when she sees him.
“Hello, Amelia,” Victor says quietly as the Betas carry her forward. They pause at the entrance to the
car. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again for quite some time now.”
Amelia’s eyes narrow with ferocity and she shouts something beneath her gag – though, of course, no
one can truly understand it. Victor looks away from her, not intending to listen anyway.
“Pack it up,” he says briskly, climbing into the back of the van. The four Betas climb in, bringing Amelia
with them. Edgar jumps inst, pulling the doors shut behind him.
“All right,” Victor says, banging on the foggy window that separates the back of the van from the drivers
up front. “Let’s move on to phase two.”
Slowly, at a casual pace that suggests that the drivers are merely going about their daily business, the
van pulls out from the driveway behind the restaurant and hits the road.
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