Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“The timing sucks, but it is what it is. I have to go. Abigail sends her sympathy.”
“Thanks.” The corner of my mouth lifts for a second. “Talk to you later.”
We end the call, and I take a moment to think about everything.
It’s seldom that an urgent hit comes through. Usually, we’re granted two weeks to a month to take out the target.
It tells me whoever went after Maurice is a part of my world. They know who I am. It also explains why Maurice was killed and not Cami.
But that doesn’t explain why the penthouse was attacked.
Christ, I’m missing a vital piece of information.
Hopefully, Nikolai will find out who ordered the contract on Maurice.
I let out a sigh, then dial a number on my phone.
“De Rothschild.”
“My name is Maxim Levin. I’m Camille DuBois’ fiancé.”
There’s no fucking way I’m calling myself her boyfriend. I’m sure she’ll forgive me for lying, but it’s the only way the people around her will take orders from me.
“Will a state funeral be held for her father?” I ask.
“Of course. I tried calling her, but it keeps going to voicemail. Is she there? Can I speak with her?”
I shake my head. “She’s currently resting. I’m in control of everything regarding Camille. I’d appreciate it if you could advise the press that she’s unavailable for interviews. She’ll only attend the funeral and nothing else.”
“Last I heard, you were her bodyguard,” he mentions.
“And now I’m her fiancé,” I mutter. “Camille will retire from her socialite duties, and once everything has been taken care of, she’s coming with me.”
“It’s all a little sudden,” he says, doubt lacing his words.
I can’t blame the man for being suspicious of me.
“Just do what I said. Once Camille feels a little better, I'll get her to call you.”
“I’d appreciate it. I’ll make the announcement that she won’t be speaking with the press. How is she doing?”
“Not well,” I answer honestly. “She loved her father very much.”
“I’ve known them since she was a child. They were always very close. Please give her my condolences and have her call me as soon as possible.”
“I’ll do that.”
I end the call and let out an aggravated huff. This is why I love my world. If you give a fucking order, people take it seriously because they know they’ll die if they don’t.
Fucking red tape pisses me off.
Getting up, I stalk out of the office and almost bump into Philippe. He bounces back, takes one look at my face, then whispers, “Mon Dieu.”
There’s fear in his eyes as he says, “Camille’s awake…sir…I thought I should inform you.”
Giving the man a nod, I step around him and head to her bedroom. When I enter the room, she’s sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard and her arms wrapped around her shins. She’s staring off into space until I sit down. Her eyes drift to me, then her chin starts to tremble.
I open my arms wide. “Come here, baby.”
Cami moves sluggishly as she crawls onto my lap, and I cradle her against my body.
“I had a nightmare, then I woke up and realized it was real,” she whispers.
My arms tighten around her. “I’m sorry, moya lyubov'.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken in Russian to her. I don’t think she’s ready to hear that I love her, and I don’t want to put pressure on her while she’s in this state.
But after she’s had some time to mourn her father, we will talk about us. I’ll tell her how much I love her, and we’ll build a life together.
Chapter 30
Cami
God, my heart can’t take much more.
Standing up front in the Church of Saint-Sulpice, that’s filled with people, I swallow hard on my grief as I unfold the eulogy I’ve written for Papa.
For a moment, my eyes land on Max, and I draw strength from him.
Don’t speak to everyone. Just focus on Max.
“My father was a kind and generous man. He wanted a better future for France.” A wave of heartache hits and I take a moment and try to breathe through it, but it grips my chest so tight it feels like I’m going to pass out. “I miss him.” My chin starts to tremble, and I have to force the words out, “So much.”
The silence is loud in the church until someone coughs.
The silence has been loud since my father died.
I’m unable to get out another word and give Max a pleading look. He stands up, and coming to me, he wraps his arm around me. He takes the paper that my eulogy is written on and continues to read on my behalf.
As soon as he’s finished, he leads me to the back of the church. The moment we step outside, the guards from St. Monarch’s surround us.
I hear questions being shouted by members of the press but ignore them. Max removes his jacket and holds it over my head to shield me from the cameras.