Debts to Dead Men

Chapter 6: Negotiations

"Good," she quipped, "You catch on fast. Can you make mine a cortado? We can discuss business after refreshments."

"Hmm, is that what we're doing, Rose? Negotiations while being armed to the teeth?"

The racer glided around the kitchen as he teased her. By all rights, this was not a man afraid for his life. And yet, she didn't miss the gun peeking from his waistband when he reached into his cabinets for mugs, nor the scars on his back. A testament to a life of violence.

"Do Gloxinias negotiate in any other way?"

"Touché."

It was quiet as she watched him prepare their drinks. Making herself at home, she tossed her blazer across his sofa and sat at one of the stools at the kitchen counter facing him.

The smell of coffee in the air put her at ease, and it only took a second for her to seep into the stool and close her eyes. When she realized her vulnerability, her eyes shot open again, and her heart skipped.

This is no time to let your guard down, Rose.

Lancet's piercing green eyes were on her, but he remained silent. She smiled sweetly at him, batting her eyelashes as she propped her chin on one hand.

Before she knew it, the coffee was done, and he slid the mug in front of her before taking a seat on the opposite end of the kitchen island.

It was strange. Like an alternate universe where two lovers indulged in their morning cup of joe together, exchanging nothing and everything with just their eyes alone.

"It's good," she said, "Looks like your talents go beyond the tracks."

"What else would you expect from the Grand Champion?"

"...You know, it's strange, Lancet. You're the Blaze family boss now. You realize that you probably should have beefier security, don't you?"

The racer appeared amused. "The Gloxinia Boss is concerned for my welfare now? Don't worry, Rose, I'm more than sufficient alone. You know this."

"I do, but it never hurts. After all, your life is very important to the success of Atropellado and armed racing, which brings me to why I'm here-"

He tut-tutted her. "Are you sure you don't want to finish your drink first? I'd hate to spoil it for you."

"Very."

The man straightened in his stool then, drinking what remained of his coffee in one swig before he put the mug down and crossed his bare arms.

"Speak."

"The ownership deeds to the racing franchise, Lancet."

"Mmm hmm?"

Be intimidating, Rose. Think threatening thoughts.

"How much are you willing to sell them for?"

Lancet reached to place his mug in the sink then, looking over to her like the angrier she became, the more he wanted to pat her on the head like she was a puppy barking at him.

When he returned his full attention to her, he answered, "There is no monetary value you can provide, that would convince me to give you the deeds."

"Meaning you don't think I have the wealth to match your price, or there is something else you desire that isn't money?"

"Neither."

Rose took a moment to digest the meaning of his words, the true venom beneath his charm. She'd expected this, but was disappointed nonetheless.