Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I normally would have snapped back, but given the fact that he continued to bleed from wounds he refused to see, I let it go. “I’ve seen the way you treat your mother. You’re kind, respectful, and gracious to her. And you’ve made me feel more loved than anyone ever has in my entire life. You’re at odds with your brother, whom I can tell you still care about, because you want to protect young women who are strangers to you. You say you’re unfit for the job, but you’re more fit than I am.”
His stare remained rock hard and stoic, refusing to let my words pierce his flesh.
“And if we had children, you wouldn’t be working anymore, so we wouldn’t have to worry about all that stuff.”
His eyebrows slowly furrowed at what I said. “I would never ask you to give up your dream of having children, so why would you ask me to give up my dream of running this city?”
“I—I wouldn’t ask you. I just assumed that’s what would happen.”
“That was the wrong assumption.”
The disappointment hit me like a wrecking ball. “So, we would have little ones while you’re the head of this country’s organized crime faction with a target on your back? I’m okay with being at risk because I’m grown enough to make that decision for myself, but they wouldn’t be.”
“I would never let anything happen to you. I’ve proven that.”
“I know, but—”
“And I would never let anything happen to our children either. I will provide for you and protect you. Always.”
“I understand that, Bastien. But you can’t control everything.”
“I won’t give up my work for something I don’t even want.” He didn’t raise his voice, but it somehow felt like he was yelling. “And it’s wrong of you to expect me to.”
“Bastien, do you even like your job?”
“What kind of question is that?”
I knew I’d hit his trigger, but I continued. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re still trying to prove something.” Prove that he was more than what his father had said. Prove himself to be a bigger kingpin than his father ever was.
Bastien was dead silent, and the longer that silence continued, the more suffocating it became.
Fuck, there was no going back now.
His expression hardened, and even though the change was subtle, he somehow looked fucking deranged. When he spoke, he managed to speak calmly, but he was right up against the border of insanity. “Don’t. Analyze. Me.”
“Bastien—”
“I’m talking now, and you’re going to fucking listen.”
Jesus, that felt like a slap across the face. He’d never spoken to me like that before. If this was restraint, I hated to picture how he spoke to men before he slit their throats.
“I’ve already compromised with you. I’m willing to have these kids that I don’t want if it’s what you want. Now, it’s your turn to compromise. It’s called diplomacy, negotiation, being a fucking adult. You have these kids and I continue my work, or you don’t have these kids and I continue my work. Those are your options.” He abruptly left the table and walked behind me, probably heading to the bedroom.
I stayed in my chair because I was too scared to move. I’d never seen him like this before. Never had him talk down to me. Never seen him attempt to restrain all the rage that was reserved just for me. He’d talked about ripping off my wedding dress, and then mere moments afterward, it was as if he hated me.
He came back a minute later, dressed in his street clothes like he intended to walk out.
I didn’t stop him. Didn’t ask him to stay.
When he walked out, he slammed the door—and he’d never done that either.
When midnight arrived and he didn’t come home, I knew he wouldn’t be back for the rest of the night.
I lay in bed, constantly on the verge of tears, hating how distant I felt from him.
I looked at his location often, something I never did, wanting to know where he was because the paranoia had set in.
But Bastien wouldn’t do that.
His dot stayed inside a bar for a couple hours, like he needed some time alone to cool off. Then he moved to different locations across Paris, perhaps meeting with his other partners.
I lay there, unable to sleep, having the shakes because I was that scared.
Scared that he might leave me. That I’d crossed the line with what I said. That I’d forever changed the dynamic of the best relationship of my life.
I knew Bastien wouldn’t call or text. He’d stay out until morning. Maybe not even come home then. I could tell that was how pissed off he was. But I knew he would ever ignore my calls or texts, no matter how much he might want to.
So, I called him, blanketed in the glow from the lit-up screen.