Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“It’s not overkill, Savannah,” she says in a low voice. “Trust me on this one. Why do you object to this so much?”
I try an angle she might understand. “Because I am hardly a celebrity. And bodyguards are, like, for celebrities and important people. I’m just not that special, and don’t give me that ‘oh you are special’ lecture again. You might as well give me a participation trophy.”
Nicolette’s lips press in a thin line. “You just don’t want someone following you.”
I cannot pull the wool over my big sister’s eyes.
“Well, yeah,” I say, still trying to plead my case. The truth is, though, that even though I’m an adult, and a competent one at that, my sister is fully responsible for paying my bills. She wants to, and it’s important to her. Plus, I’m flat-out broke, so I wasn’t foolish enough to decline what she offered.
That puts me a bit at her mercy, though. While she’s no longer my legal guardian, I am sort of her responsibility.
Nicolette shoots a quick glance toward Fabien. I quake a little at the look on his face, as he’s grown a little more serious. A bit more stern.
“We can’t make you have a guard if you don’t want one,” he says, with a tightening of his jaw that sort of implies he wishes he could. “We aren’t your legal guardians, and you are an adult. We can, however, make strong recommendations that are in your favor.”
He doesn’t usually lecture me, but he’s damn intimidating. And even though he’s only ever been good to me, I know he’s capable of… shall we say… scary things.
I know he wouldn’t hurt me.
Would he?
Before I came here and met him, I warned Nicolette. I told her that the Gerard family was known for being a new but tenacious organized crime ring. I wouldn’t have known a thing if Fabien’s friend hadn’t sort of tipped me off.
Last year, Fabien sent one of his friends from Boston to provide security for me.
When I found out Fabien’s friend’s name was Mario Rossi, I put two and two together. Everyone in Boston knows the Rossi family name: known mafia, feared, powerful… and friends with the Gerard family. I’m not exactly an expert on the mafia, but I do know that being friends with a known mob is a pretty decent red flag.
So I took a risk one night and casually mentioned something about the Gerard family to Mario, implying I knew full well they were mafia.
Mario went right along with it. “Not as large as we are,” he said. “They’re newer, but rapidly growing.”
I had my answer.
So even though Fabien has never given me reason to fear him, at the back of my mind, I know what he’s capable of. The knowledge makes me a bit more guarded. I’m on my best behavior around him. I’m… kinda not sure what he’d do if I wasn’t.
Fabien glances at his phone. “Dammit. We need to go. We were supposed to leave for the airport ten minutes ago.” The two of them are on their way to Italy.
I wave my hand at the table. “I’ll get this,” I say, flashing my sister a magnanimous grin.
Standing, she winks at me. “Don’t think this conversation is over.”
I roll my eyes and stand, giving them both Parisian air kisses on the cheek.
“Savannah,” Fabien says. “We won’t be reachable for at least the next two hours.”
I can tell he’s not a fan of this scenario. Typically, even when flying they have their private jets or planes with internet access so we aren’t out of touch, but they had to book a separate flight this time on a commercial plane. Even though they fly business class, their flight isn’t internet-equipped.
“Gotcha.” I’m already sitting back down and taking out my wallet.
“Which is exactly why I wish she had a guard,” Nicolette says in a low voice to Fabien.
Fabien nods. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to assign a guard to me just for the hell of it, without telling me or even his wife. Their family home, which is also their primary headquarters, isn’t far from here.
“If you need anything at all, Thayer’s flown in from Corsica this weekend, and you know where to reach him.”
I try to focus on what Fabien’s telling me, but when he mentions his brother’s name, my mind sort of short-circuits.
I’d hoped he’d be in Corsica, since they have all sorts of businesses and connections there. It’s easy to pretend to forget about someone when they’re on an island, and not in the city where you actually live.
Le Sauvage, they call him. The Savage.
I don’t know how he earned that name, but a part of me wants to know.
I would absolutely die before I’d admit it to anyone, but I have a relentless, uncontrollable, schoolgirl crush on Thayer.