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)
My eyes focused on the cigar because the guilt suddenly gnawed at my flesh. “Sometimes.”
He let the conversation drop when I didn’t say more.
“What’s next for you?”
“Business as usual,” he said as he released the smoke. “But in accordance with the Fifth Republic. Luca has already stopped by to do his checks.”
In six weeks, I’d been replaced, my legacy replaced by a new French Emperor, but I knew the transition wouldn’t have been so smooth if Luca weren’t so capable of the position. Everyone already knew him, already respected him. I’d turn into a friend…or someone they used to know.
“Is this really enough for you?” he asked.
“This?”
“Retirement. Domestication. Monogamy.”
I wasn’t surprised by his incredulity, because I’d had the same opinion not too long ago. I’d said I would never leave my job for anyone, especially a woman. Didn’t think I’d meet anyone who would make settling down somehow exciting. “The thrills and adrenaline are still there, just in a new way. After the wedding, we’re going to travel for a few months. I want to take her through Italy and Greece.”
He nodded. “Nice honeymoon.”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’re gonna do the kid thing too?”
“At some point.”
He watched me like he expected me to say more, but he didn’t want to push.
“I don’t think I’m fit to be a parent, but I’ll try my damnedest to do a good job.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I killed my own father and dumped his body in the garbage, so…”
“But that wasn’t by choice,” he said. “You’ve always been the good one, Bastien. You’ve always been the one to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. Stand your ground when it would be far easier just to cave. I see the way you love Fleur, so you’re definitely capable of caring for another person.”
It was the nicest thing he’d ever said to me.
“I think you’d be a good dad—if that’s what you want.”
I looked at the fireplace and kept a straight face, unsure how to accept his kindness. “Dad didn’t want me…and I’m afraid I won’t want them.” I couldn’t look at him as I said it. Hadn’t even said that to Fleur.
He stared at me.
I couldn’t see his stare, but I could feel it hot on my flesh.
“Dad was a fucking asshole. He was a psychopath who only cared about money and power and getting more money and power. He didn’t give a shit about us as people, but free labor. He didn’t care about Mom. He’d cheat on her all the time. I’m like him in more ways than I want to admit—but you are nothing like him.”
I finally found the courage to look at him again.
“You’ll be fine, Bastien.”
The butler let me into the house then ushered me into the drawing room. Over the fireplace was an old family portrait, the four of us together, Godric and I almost teenagers at the time. I stared at it and felt the racing of my heart. It was a Maserati on the racetrack.
My mother entered the room behind me. “Bastien, is everything okay?”
I stared at the picture a moment longer before I manned up and faced her.
She must have seen my crestfallen expression because she stepped forward and grabbed my arms. “Honey, what is it?”
I gently guided her hands away, unable to accept my mother’s love right now.
She grew more upset. “It’s natural to get cold feet. I felt the exact same way before my wedding. But just take a couple breaths—”
“It’s not that.” Fleur was the only thing in my life I never had to doubt. But everyone else, including myself, was cast in the shadows of unease. The only doubt I possessed was wondering if I deserved her at all.
“Then what is it?”
I’d decided to keep this from her for years, said it was for her own good because she couldn’t handle this secret. But it was just an excuse to hide the truth, just an excuse to pretend to be something I wasn’t. I was always good to her, always took care of her, and I wondered if I’d done those things out of guilt rather than genuine desire. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay…I’m listening.”
“Let’s sit.” I moved to the seating area and dropped onto one of the couches.
Even though it was late, she was still dressed and in full makeup, like she didn’t allow herself to relax until she was about to put her head on the pillow.
Her hands were together in her lap, and she looked so scared that to an onlooker, they would assume I was there to kill her.
I suspected she wouldn’t come to the wedding tomorrow. I suspected we might never speak again. But I had to tell her. Had to come clean and accept the consequences of my actions. “Dad stopped by my apartment before he died.”