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)
But this was my city. I was too damn stubborn to leave it.
I drank from my wineglass until there was just a drop of Bordeaux at the bottom. Just when I reached for the bottle to refill the glass, I heard a creak. I stilled and strained my ears to listen, to determine whether the sound occurred because I’d shifted my weight in the chair or because the native sounds of the unfamiliar apartment were still foreign to me.
Or because someone was there to kill me.
I waited, breath stalled in my lungs, and I glanced to the door. It was dark in the hallway outside my apartment, so I couldn’t see a shadow in the crack. Couldn’t see the outline of a man’s boots.
I abandoned the wine bottle and reached for the gun I’d left on the table beside me. I gently lifted it and pressed my thumb into the safety until there was a quiet click. I heard another creak, and my eyes flashed to the door again.
The doorknob turned, just slightly, so slightly I wasn’t sure if I actually saw it move. But then there was a click, and the door moved an inch. It was three in the morning, so my killer assumed I was asleep in my twin-sized bed in the closet that served as a bedroom.
How did they find me so quickly?
I gently closed my laptop to hide the light from the screen.
The door inched farther open, and the unspecific details of a man emerged.
I aimed my gun and fired twice, unsure whether I hit his chest or his stomach. He jerked when the first bullet hit him and then twisted at the second before he toppled over, dead right on my threshold.
My ears rang louder than the shot I’d just fired. The tinnitus roared like a lion. My hand remained still on the gun before I clicked the safety and gently set it on the table. I looked calm on the outside, but my heart raced like the threat was still imminent.
I hadn’t even found a job yet, and they’d already tracked me down. Had they watched me leave Luca’s place and trailed me this entire time, waiting for the moment I let my guard down? “Fuck.”
I grabbed what few things I had and hopped into the first taxi that pulled over. When they asked for the address, I hesitated before I answered, because just four days ago, I’d been asked the same question and hadn’t had an answer.
I didn’t know his address, but I recalled the area easily. “Saint-Thomas D’Aquin.”
It was a far drive from where I was in the 18th arrondissement, pretty much clear across Paris, past the Louvre and over the Seine. At this hour, it would be a quicker trip with less traffic on the streets, but it would still cost me at least seventy euro.
The farther we traveled from my apartment, the less my heart started to race. But once we crossed the Seine and approached his residence, it started to race again and my palms went damp. I felt like an obnoxious beggar who didn’t appreciate what was given and demanded more. He’d helped me when he didn’t have to, gave me his money and even his gun, and I was embarrassed to return here.
Humiliated.
But I didn’t know where else to go.
I looked at maps on my phone to figure out exactly where his place had been, and after searching for a while, I realized that his house used to be a hotel. Hotel De Poulpry – Maison Des Polytechnicians. I thought I’d been there once before for a dinner party or a wedding or something. It had looked familiar when I’d walked in, but it didn’t click right away. He must have bought it and turned it into his private home because of the view of the Seine and the Eiffel Tower.
The taxi came to a stop at the intersection, and I handed over a small fortune before I stepped out on the sidewalk and walked the rest of the way on foot. Hardly anyone was out right now, just me with two heavy bags over my shoulders containing my clothes and shoes and laptop. At that very moment, I was homeless, about to knock on a stranger’s door and ask for a place to stay.
I stopped when I was across the street, looking through the iron gates to the property lit up with sconces beyond.
Maybe I should call first instead of putting him on the spot.
I placed my bags on the sidewalk then called, staring at his gate like a stalker.
He picked up right away. “Luca.” It was clear by his tone that he hadn’t saved my number and assumed this was about business.
“Hey, it’s Aliénor…”
He was silent, exactly as I expected him to be.
“I’m sorry to bother you like this—”