Page 28 of Collateral Claim

I sip my coffee. “I feel like I should bargain now.”

“You won’t.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Bargain, then. I need a favor with Mary. What do you need?”

“Wings.”

Endo laughs.

For a moment, it feels like we’re not enemies. “I noticed Connor called you uncle.”

Cass and I have a half brother from our father’s side. Those are his sons.”

“But their last name is different.”

“It’s true. My mother raised a bastard child after my dad’s whore dropped him off on the doorstep and never came back. My mother loved their father as much as she could, but she gave him a different last name, so he would be the first of his kind. It’s how this kind of situation is handled around here.”

“Does your half brother live in town as well?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

Prickly. “I’m just making conversation in the morning room where people chat, you know?”

“I’m content to sit here and look at you.”

Oh. I rub the kink out of the back of my neck.

“You’re more interesting to look at than the empty bench I normally see while I eat breakfast.”

“Ah. I thought you were giving me a compliment.”

Endo smiles. “Hardly.”

I bite into the croissant. The crunchy, buttery pastry melts on my tongue. “Jesus,” I say with an appreciative moan. “This is the best croissant I’ve ever eaten.” I take another bite and moan loudly. “Oh my God.”

“Mary is a master pastry chef,” Endo says, and bites into his. He moans as well, and only then do I realize how sexy that sounds.

I place the croissant on the plate and wipe my hands and mouth. Maybe I can have a raw fig. That sounds unpleasant and bitter. Definitely won’t make me moan.

“Finish your croissant.”

Lots of what he says sounds like an order. It’s how he is. Clearly, he’s a dominant man who runs an arms-dealing enterprise, and somehow, my father’s gotten himself involved with him. I wonder how they crossed paths, but if I asked my dad, I doubt he’d tell me. Endo might, but if there’s a story, he’d spin it in his favor.

Wilfred would know the story.

If I’m to call Wilfred, I need my phone.

“Endo, my phone’s missing.” I pick up my pastry. I can’t leave it. I’m weak for the excellent croissant. “Do you think I could look in the car?”

“No reason,” he says. “I took your phone.”

I bite into the pastry a little too forcefully, imagining biting Endo’s forearm. “Where did you get it from?”

“Your nightstand.”

“You were inside my room again?”