Reviving Izabel Read Online Free Page A

once before.
    He steps up to my table with absolutely no emotion on his face, his big hands folded together down in front of him, his back straight, his chiseled chin solid.
    “Good evening, Miss Seyfried.” His voice is deep and ominous. “Where, might I ask, is your owner?”
    I smirk up at his looming height, take a casual sip of my water and place the glass back on the table, taking my time. Every part of me is screaming, telling me how stupid it was for me to come here, and as much as I know that to be true, I don’t care. It’s not fear making me tremble underneath my skin, it’s adrenaline.
    “Victor Faust is not my owner,” I say calmly. “But he is around. Somewhere.” A faint, sly smile touches my lips.
    Stephens’ eyes move subtly to scan the area before he looks back at me.
    “Why are you here?” he asks, dropping the sophisticated manager act down a notch.
    “I have business to discuss with Arthur Hamburg,” I say with confidence. “It will be in his best interest that he arrange a private meeting with me. Here. Tonight. Preferably now.”
    I take another sip.
    I notice Stephens’ Adam’s apple move as he swallows, and the edges of his strong jaw as his teeth grind together. He glances up at the area he came from and I notice a tiny black device hidden inside his left ear. It appears he’s listening to someone speak. Hamburg would be my guess.
    He looks back at me, his dark eyes cold and hateful, yet he retains his unemotional demeanor as flawlessly as Victor always had.
    His right hand unfolds as he holds it out to me and says, “Right this way,” and only when I stand up do both of his hands drop to his sides.
    I follow Stephens through the restaurant and up the stairs to the balcony floor.
    And either this will be my first night as a killer, or my last night alive.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
     
    Sarai
     
     
     
     
     
    “If you touch me,” I say to the suit-clad guard standing outside Hamburg’s private room, “I’ll put your nuts in a meat-grinder.”
    The guard’s nostrils flare and he glances at Stephens.
    “You requested a meeting with Mr. Hamburg,” Stephens says from behind. “It’s only proper that you be searched for weapons before we allow you inside.”
    Dammit!
    Calm. Just keep calm. Do what Izabel would do.
    I breathe in a heavy breath and sneer at both of them menacingly. Then I throw my little black purse at the guard. He catches it as it hits his chest.
    “I think it’s safe to say I couldn’t hide a weapon wearing a dress like this unless I put it up my cunt,” I snap, looking back at Stephens. “My gun is in the purse. But don’t even think of touching—”
    “Let her in,” a familiar voice says from the door.
    It’s Hamburg, still as porky and grotesque as he was before, wearing an oversized suit ready to bust at the buttons if he inhales too deeply.
    I smirk at the guard glaring back at me with murder in his eyes. I know that look, I’m all too intimate with it just the same. He takes the gun from my purse and hands the purse back to me.
    “Mr. Hamburg,” Stephens says, “I should remain with you.”
    Hamburg shakes his double-chinned head. “No, you mind the restaurant. These people aren’t here to kill me or else they wouldn’t be so obvious. I’ll be fine.”
    “At least leave Marion outside the door,” Stephens suggests, glancing at the guard.
    “Yes,” Hamburg agrees. “You stay here, let no one interrupt our…,” he looks at me once coldly, “…meeting, unless I ask for an interruption. If at any time you no longer hear my voice for a full minute, come inside the room. As a precaution, of course.”
    He smirks at me.
    “Of course,” I mimic and smirk right back.
    Hamburg steps to the side and gestures me in with an opened hand, palm-up.
    “I thought this was over, Miss Seyfried.”
    Hamburg shuts the door.
    “Have a seat,” he adds.
    The room is generous in size with smooth, rounded walls seamless from one side to the