Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Godric wore his best poker face, but it wasn’t good enough.
“If you want to make money, then you work for me too—and you do it by my rules.”
“No wonder Dad didn’t like you…fucking prick.”
I smirked because the insult didn’t bother me at all. “He really didn’t like me when I killed him either.”
His confidence wavered, a flicker in his eyes like a candle about to go out in the breeze.
“The old way is gone, Godric. Do business my way—or don’t do it at all.”
He grounded himself in silence, his viciousness restrained because retaliation would get him nowhere right now. “I thought you were too weak for this life.”
“Empathy doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honorable, something you would never understand.”
He smirked slightly, a forced smile that he clearly didn’t feel in his core.
“Anyone who breaks the rules of Fifth Republic will be personally dealt with by me. Violate my rules, and I will treat you no differently than a stranger. Do you understand me?”
He redirected his stare, like he would punch me if he had to look at me for another second. “Fuck off.”
“Do you understand me?” I grabbed him by the front of the coat and shoved him back. “Because I’m not fucking around. I will turn you into a concrete pillar in one of my skyscrapers. I will chop off your hand and feed it to a stray. I’ll make you eat my bullets so you can scream when you shit ’em out.” I continued to advance toward him and force him to move back, his men and mine both having their guns trained on one another but unsure whether to fire. “So, I will ask again—do you fucking understand me?”
His eyes were wet, not from emotion, but from angry tears. In that moment more than any other, he wanted me dead. Blood in the snow. Buried in an unmarked grave so no one would remember my name. Piss on the empty gravestone. “Yes, you fucking asshole.”
“You only get one chance, Godric.” I raised my finger to him. “One.” Before he could release another insult that would bounce off me like a rubber ball, I turned and walked away. “You better get inside. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
Chapter 9
Fleur
When we walked into Holybelly, Luca was already there, in sweatpants and sneakers and a pullover sweater. His expression had been neutral until he realized I was there, and then his look soured noticeably.
Bastien held the door open for me then greeted the waiter, someone he seemed to know well enough to embrace with a hand-grab and a one-armed hug.
I moved to the booth and slid across from Luca. “Morning.”
He gave me a nod in acknowledgment and drank from his coffee.
Bastien continued to talk to the waiter, a friendly but heated exchange about the last Manchester United game.
“What are you getting?” I asked as I pulled the menu toward me.
“Food,” he said like a smartass.
I should keep my cool to earn his favor, but I’d never been good at that sort of thing. “I’m a lovely person, you know.”
“Yeah?” He grabbed the handle of his coffee mug and took another drink.
“What’s your problem? You think I’m not good enough for your friend?”
“You dumped him, didn’t you?”
I felt betrayed that Bastien had told him, but I knew it was a reasonable thing to share. “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”
He took another drink of his coffee then looked at Bastien, who was still locked in a debate over a game I didn’t know he’d watched. He must have left the bed after I’d fallen asleep. Luca gave a sigh then turned back to me. “You want me to be straight with you, sweetheart?”
“You aren’t my man, so don’t call me that.”
He smirked slightly. “In case you haven’t noticed, Bastien has put all his chips on you.”
I didn’t know what I’d done to earn such devotion from a man who could have any woman he wanted. Models and actresses, women ten years younger than me and infinitely more flexible.
“Until I see the same from you, I’m not going to like you.”
“Until you stop being a judgmental prick, I’m not going to like you.”
Instead of snapping at the insult, his eyes narrowed—and he gave a slight smile.
“I wouldn’t be here, stuck looking at your asshole face, if Bastien didn’t mean so much to me.”
The smirk remained, like my insults were comical rather than threatening. “And how much does he mean to you?”
I shouldn’t answer the question, not when I’d only come down here to have breakfast, not face an interrogation. “He means so much to me that I’ve forsaken all my principles and my fears and my sanity because I can’t walk away from him. I’m not ready for a relationship when I’m not even divorced, but I’m in one because I’d rather heal with him than lose him. I’m terrified of his world and the danger in the shadows, but I’m far more afraid of a safe existence without him. You say he’s put all his chips in, but he’s not the one who has anything to lose. I’m the one betting my life savings. And I’m betting it all because he’s the most exceptional man I’ve ever met. I’ve known him for such a brief amount of time, but I somehow believe every word out of his mouth, every promise he’s ever made to me—even though I’ve already heard those promises in the past and watched them shatter at my feet.”