Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
It was a complicated and delicate position—and it was my job to fix it. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I’m sure you will, Luca.” My uncle took another piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth. “But I’m glad I’m not you.”
My uncle and I had a cigar together in the drawing room, along with a couple scotches. Aunt Charlotte didn’t join us, hating the smell of smoke and detesting hard liquor. He relaxed in the armchair in front of the fire, staring at me for a long time. “Most parents fail to accept that their children are no longer children anymore, but fully functioning adults. I have the opposite problem with you. You sit before me as this smart and powerful man, and I can’t even remember you as a child. When I see pictures of you as a kid in the hallway, I don’t even recognize that person.” He let out the smoke from his mouth, his arm resting on the armrest with the cigar between his fingers. “Here you are, a French Emperor, a man more powerful than President Martin. From rags to riches. From nothing to everything.”
He praised me often, praised me more than anyone I’d ever known.
“And my son is a fucking accountant…for some dumbfuck suits.”
The relationship with his son had been strained a long time. My uncle couldn’t hide his resentment, and if he couldn’t hide it from me, he couldn’t hide it from Jacques.
“Making seventy thousand a year?” he asked incredulously. “Living in that small-ass apartment with a kid? I raised him to be so much better. Raised him to be anything other than the worst thing he possibly could be—ordinary.”
I tried not to involve myself in their complicated relationship. I very rarely said anything, just let my uncle vent about it.
“You feel more like my son than he ever has.”
Those words meant more to me than they should, but I knew I shouldn’t accept them. He only spoke in anger. “Have you talked to him lately?”
He shook his head. “And say what? That he turned his back on me? On the business built with my blood? That he could be richer than any of the men he works for at his prick-ass company? That he would rather live in a small apartment and send his daughter to public school than live like this?” He threw his arms up and gestured to the grand room around him. “Cunt thinks he’s better than me. Thinks he’s better than me because of his little degree from university. Because he did things the right way. That I’m just a criminal and he’s a civilized man. That he knows right from wrong and I’m just some prick.” His fingers rested on the rim of his scotch, and he threw it hard into the fire. Glass shattered, and the flames leaped slightly from the rush of air and the burn of the liquor. “Some fucking prick…”
21
ALIÉNOR
I packed my things in a small rollaway suitcase for the weekend. I’d stayed at a guy’s place for a sleepover before, but I’d never been so excited about it. Probably because a six-foot-four ripped Luca hadn’t been the one to invite me over before. A whole weekend of orgasms and gourmet meals and cuddling in a soft bed with the most beautiful man who ever lived.
I’d struck gold.
I’m outside.
I saw his text message, turned off the lights, and locked the door behind me before I took the little elevator to the bottom floor. I walked through the small lobby and out the double doors, seeing Luca standing near the SUV with the driver, who waited for him. Dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved olive shirt, he looked like a man who belonged on a fashion billboard that was posted over buildings under construction.
He looked like he could be a model at Diamant.
He wasn’t the most expressive man, but I could see a hint of a smile in his eyes at the sight of me. He didn’t come to me, waiting for me to come to him.
“Hey.” I moved into him and wrapped my arms around his thick trunk. I smothered myself with his smell, felt the softness of his shirt against my cheek.
His arms circled me, and he brought me close for a squeeze.
I could stay like that forever, seared in his heat.
He pulled away first and dipped his head to kiss me. “Ready?”
I loved when he kissed me like that. It was simple and expected, but it felt so domestic, like this was a mature relationship that had continued to blossom after the honeymoon stage. Like this was a real relationship, not a situationship, not something with an expiration date. We hadn’t talked about being that serious, but it felt that way. “Yeah.”
He placed my suitcase in the back then got into the SUV from the other side.