INHERITANCE , teen wolf

𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 , muted

Kinsey followed the woman back to the couch, slotting herself between her father and cousin, a table separating the three Hale's from the mercenary who put her feet up on the table. Peter let out a small groan as he looked at her shoes. The table is Italian, Peter deadpanned. So were her boots, Braeden retorted with a tilt of her head. Both Kinsey and Derek bowed their heads with a slight smirk on their faces, sniggering like a pair of little kids. 

"Are we going to talk interior design and fashion, or are we going to talk numbers?" The woman asked. Kinsey looked between the wolves sitting either side of her, only just gathering what kind of business brought Braeden here, she was a mercenary, hired to kill. Her only question was who her father and cousin were hiring Braeden to kill. 

Peter looked at his daughter in the corner of his eyes, she didn't need to speak for him to know it was answers that she wanted, she was a Hale, a curious being who didn't like being surprised by anything, a trait he had himself. Despite that, he didn't answer her question as he reached for his notepad sitting on the table. In a huff, Kinsey sat back with folded arms, looking at Derek, but he wasn't paying attention to any of them. Instead, he had her sunglasses in his hand, staring at his own reflection in them as if he no longer recognized it. She could understand why. It had been a long time since he had that color staring back at him. After scribbling a number, Peter slid it over to Braeden. She nodded, grabbing the pen, crossing out the number, and writing her own. They watched as the mercenary drew a few zeros, already coming out as a wealthy cost. Clearly, when they had made business with the woman Peter and Derek hadn't mentioned the fact that they'd recently been robbed of all of their bonds. The Hale's were still wealthy nonetheless, but maybe if they had mentioned it Braeden would knock off a few zeros from her number. 

Braeden slid the paper back, a smile across her face, a tilt of her head, that was a number much more preferable to her. Peter reached for the piece of paper but before he reached it Kinsey had snatched it off of the table, getting a peek of it for herself. Her eyes widened at it, handing it over to her father as she mumbled about him paying for her college tuition. Peter looked down at the number on the paper, a straight face as he looked back at the mercenary. 

"We're hiring you to find Kate, not assassinate the president." 

"This is to find mom?" Kinsey asked in an astounded shout as she looked between the three of them, all nodding at her, surprised she hadn't caught on sooner. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked as she looked at Peter.

"In case you tried to stop us." He shrugged, answering honestly.

"Are you kidding me?" The girl scoffed. "Nobody wants to find her more than I do. Continue." A wide-eyed look was shared between Derek and Peter as the brunette sat back, waiting for more information on this whole ordeal. With a shrug, the two men turned to Braeden. 

She referred to Peter's comment, telling them that she was hired by the Calavera's to kill Kate, a not so surprising revelation as Kinsey nodded along maybe the hunter's code didn't apply to her in Araya's eyes but it still applied to her mother, she was supposed to die, instead, she ran. She'd stated simply, the three of them were hiring her to find Kate first, that wasn't what was costing a great deal, it was going against the Calavera's that would cost them. Peter looked at Kinsey once again, she nodded, believing that it was fair, the Calavera's really wanted her mother dead, they didn't play fairly either. Her trip to Mexico proved that. 

Even with his daughter, a hunter, agreeing with Braeden, Peter began scribbling on the paper yet again with a number that still grieved him, but it was much more generous than his original offer and much closer to the one she'd provided them with. Braeden didn't bother to look at the piece of paper before she slid it back over to him. In a huff, Peter threw up his arms, storming away, he had an easier time negotiating with his stubborn seventeen-year-old daughter. With a sigh Derek sat up, scrunching up the paper, he agreed that they'd pay, shocking his uncle who planned on a little more haggling with her. But Derek didn't care about the price, only that she found Kate, all he wanted was for someone to find Kate.