When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 46: Lunch on Knives

Chapter 46: Lunch on Knives

Kant took the mug, his fingers brushing against Gabriel’s.

"Together?" he repeated, liking the sound of that word a bit too much. "Sure."

"I’ll look forward to it, then!" Gabriel beamed and leaned in, brushing his shoulder against Kant’s with a playful nudge.

How little did a man need for happiness... Kant glanced down at the swirling coffee in his mug, then took a sip while Gabriel went picking out ingredients from the fridge to make himself breakfast.

Broccoli, carrots, bell peppers, eggs. For some reason, Kant had expected Gabriel’s breakfast would be cookies and a sweet drink. Not this healthy and nourishing meal-to-be.

As Gabriel whisked the eggs, he tossed a playful glance over his shoulder. "You sure you don’t want to eat anything? Skipping breakfast is a bad habit."

Kant was in no place to deny.

Gabriel tossed him an onion, "Chop this!" He set down a cutting board and a knife. "It’ll be faster if we do it together."

Kant held the onion, its outer skin crunching in his hand. Together... He could get used to that word. Way too easily. It was dangerous.

"Today’s breakfast menu: sautéed vegetables with fried egg!" Gabriel announced, pulling out the second cutting board. He deftly cut up the bell peppers, humming to himself, which Kant found oddly hypnotizing.

"Didn’t know you could cook," Kant murmured casually, while chopping the onion.

Gabriel paused, glancing back at him with a mock-serious expression. "Did you expect me to have a private chef?"

"More like empty takeout boxes and cabinets filled with snacks."

"I have a bit of those things too." Gabriel laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But health is all about balance, isn’t it?" He pointed at the broccoli with his knife. "Vegetables nourish the body, but fried chicken feeds the soul."

Kant nodded, chuckling. "I see. Very philosophical."

Soon, the delicious aroma of sautéed vegetables filled the kitchen.

As they plated the vibrant breakfast, Kant’s phone buzzed on the table, jolting him back to reality. He glanced at the screen—Jones calling him, probably to tell Kant to come in for a meeting.

Why today, of all days?

Kant hesitated.

Ignore the call, just this once?

While he was dragging it out, Jones dropped the call. Kant nodded to himself. He could allow himself to put this aside just until after Gabriel’s lunch with Sam.

Jones was flexible enough with time. As long as it didn’t concern jobs, he didn’t care when Kant came and went.

. . .

Kant pulled Gabriel’s sleek, polished car into the valet at a high-end restaurant.

The car wasn’t a flashy sports model, but it had the sort of luxurious comfort that reminded him of its high price. Soft leather seats, a smooth, quiet engine, and the ambient lighting inside that made every drive feel like floating on a cloud.

"Not bad, right?" Gabriel glanced at Kant, trying to gauge his reaction.

Kant gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Comfortable."

"That’s it?" Gabriel sighed, removing his seat belt. "You’re not very excitable, you know that?"

"We’re not here to have fun, are we?" Kant returned the question, stepping out of the driver’s seat. He handed the valet the key and straightened his jacket.

His gaze swept over the entrance of the restaurant, framed with polished glass and gold accents. The place reeked of old money. Classy. Expensive.

As they entered, Sam greeted Gabriel with the smile of a caring uncle. Gabriel returned the greeting with an even brighter smile, masking whatever tension had been brewing all morning.

"Gabriel," Sam rose from his seat as they approached the table, his smile still present but his eyes sharp, flicking over his nephew with barely concealed concern. "It’s good to see you up and about. After everything that happened... I was worried."

His tone was calm and careful, warm even. If Kant didn’t know any better, he would have thought it was sincere.

Gabriel gave an easy laugh as he slipped into his seat. "I’m fine, really. A bit of excitement never hurt anyone, right?"

"I’m not sure if I’d call a kidnapping ’excitement.’" Sam’s gaze lingered on Gabriel’s wrists, as if trying to spot any bruises from restraints to determine whether he had truly been kidnapped.

A waiter appeared at their side, holding two menus bound in soft leather. With a practiced smile, he handed one to Sam and the other to Gabriel.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Here are your menus for today. I’ll give you a few moments to look them over and will return shortly to take your order."

"Thank you," Gabriel replied smoothly, taking the menu with a glad exhale to have something to focus on. Sam nodded absently, barely acknowledging the waiter as his focus remained on his nephew.

Once the waiter had left, Sam cast a brief glance in Kant’s way.

"By the way," his tone shifted, more casual but still probing, "I couldn’t help but notice the man standing nearby. You walked in together."

Kant pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to smile at hearing that word again. Together. Why did it sound so satisfying?

"Oh, uh..." Gabriel hesitated, his smile faltering. He straightened in his seat, trying to look unperturbed. "He’s my bodyguard." The words sounded awkward in his mouth, like coins that slipped off his tongue, falling flat on the table.

Kant, as usual, said nothing, but Gabriel avoided eye contact with him, feeling guilty for some reason. Well, not for "some reason"—he had said he would change things with his second shot at life, yet he ended up lying again, hiding.

"A bodyguard?" Sam’s brow furrowed, his tone skeptical. "That’s unexpected." He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to pull the truth from Gabriel’s tight expression.

Gabriel swallowed, a knot forming in his throat. He might’ve been upfront about most things with his uncle before, but he didn’t trust Sam anymore.

"Just a precaution, that’s all," Gabriel said in his breezy tone, but his eyes squinted slightly.

Sam hummed thoughtfully. "Smart thinking, after what happened with the kidnapping," he agreed begrudgingly, going back to ignoring Kant’s existence. "As I say, precaution is always a good thing."

Even a fool would be able to tell Sam caught onto the air of familiarity between them, but that didn’t seem to be his topic of interest. Instead, he was looking for signs that his nephew had learned something he wasn’t supposed to.

Gabriel seemed to have a lot to hide, but Sam had more. His involvement with the cult, the shady underground businesses, the bartender at the Red Tail bar... Who knows how far his criminal activities stretched?

What baffled Kant was how Gabriel had been in the dark about all of that until he died. Had he truly never stumbled upon the dirty business? Not even by accident?