by Kenya Wright
“What happened?”
“My aunts and mother ran her off.”
“Those lovely women downstairs?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “The fact that you think they’re lovely means a lot.”
“And what about the second woman?”
“My ex-wife.” Jean-Pierre sighed. “They didn’t like her either.”
“Then, I feel honored.”
“You should. My aunts have good taste. I’m glad to finally be on the same page with them.”
I blushed for the hundredth time since being here.
We headed downstairs for breakfast.
While I thought Jean-Pierre had an extravagant life in Paris, it didn’t compare to the one he led here. Everyone on the estate adored him like he was a king.
He took my hand and guided me into an outside dining area overlooking a beach. I hadn’t even realized this part of the mansion had been there.
Jesus. This place is massive.
He yawned. “Let’s go eat. I’m sure the staff put together a little something.”
Jean-Pierre’s concept of a little something equated to a royal feast. Coffee and tea. Champagne and freshly squeezed juice. High end and top brand. Massive portions of bacon and eggs. Stacks of croissants. Bowls of fruit and anything else that one could imagine, roasting and steaming. Cooling and simmering. All from their garden on Jean-Pierre’s estate. All smelling delicious. All served on thick china plates and heavy silverware probably ageing over a hundred years old.
A harp player strummed stings near an ice sculpture of an angel.
I quirked my eyebrows at Jean-Pierre. “This is a typical breakfast for you?”
“Aunt Delphine is being extra special today. She’s on team baby.”
Oh my god.
Breakfast rocked. We ate and laughed, and my French was improving, since I’d been forced to learn fast.
Not one regret. Everything is perfect.
Later that afternoon, we went to the beach.
It was miles of tan sand along blue waters. I lounged next to Jean-Pierre in the center of heaven. The sand was like warm powder. Velvet against my skin. I wiggled it between my toes.
After bathing in the sun, we played like kids. Always competitive, Jean-Pierre challenged me with finding better seashells than him. After an hour, we both had precious piles ready to be judged.
Rafael was supposed to be the judge, but he never chose the winner. Instead, he kicked our shells around and laughed at the corniness of it all. Jean-Pierre chased him away, and I watched them, seeing how they must’ve looked as little boys, racing after each other and giving their mothers nothing but trouble.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was part of a family. I’d just met Jean-Pierre, Rafael, his men, and aunts. Still, there was a comfort with them. We laughed and joked, and I felt more welcomed than ever before.
This is where I’m supposed to be.
We swam the rest of the day. Deep in the cool waters, small crabs scuttled around our toes and hours seemed limitless. Time was the warmth of our comfort and the excitement of our exploration in each other. For that day, we lived with the intensity of a hundred people aware that any moment could change everything.
Later, his Aunt Delphine, arrived at our section of the beach with a full staff and enough food for an extravagant picnic. However, the spread appeared more like a beach wedding reception. A long white table was set for thirty people. Elaborate flower arrangements dotted the corners. Waiters served drinks and guided us to our seats.
His other aunts appeared, as if we’d invited everybody.
“Again,” Jean-Pierre frowned. “Aunt Delphine is on—”
“Team baby.”
“Yes.”
“Ignore her. She must be bored with counting diamonds.”
I laughed. “Now she wants to count children?”
“Exactly. It’s funny how life works.”
We headed to the table to greet his aunts. There were tons of platters covered in oysters.
“Dear God.” Jean-Pierre leaned my way and whispered, “See. They’re trying to get us in the mood with these oysters.”
“As if you need oysters to get in the mood.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
Aunt Delphine grabbed our attention by clinking her glass. “Everyone!”
We turned her way.
She pointed to the sun. “The sunset. It’s the reason why we’re here. We must look.”
And then peace descended on the beach as we all watched the shift of nature in a matter of minutes. The tide receded from the vast expanse of sand. Seagulls flocked in hordes foraging for food. The sun sat in the sky like a fiery orange ball, slowly lowering down into the sea.
Further down the beach, lovers in bikinis and swimsuits, held each other close and watched the sunset too.
I wished I could take a picture of that moment—as well as the feeling of that moment. It was all I could do to not cry. Everything felt so good.
When the lower rim of the sun caressed the sea, everyone went to their seats. Waiters lit white circled lanterns around us and poured wine. A small chamber orchestra assembled next to us. I heard the word violinist spoken in French, and several people looked at me.
Jean-Pierre spoke up in French, “No, she will not play today. Let her rest.”
It was in that moment, that I realized I’d left Eros in Paris. Guilt hit me for a few seconds. I’d never been this far away from the instrument before.
It’s fine. We both need the break.
I brushed the guilt away, remained present, and on the beach.
The ocean shifted to indigo along a darkening horizon. A cool breeze brushed against my skin. Waiters brought over several dishes and my stomach growled with excitement. Others carried out several silver candelabras and set them on the table. One by one candles were lit and our space illuminated.
This is so beautiful. How will I ever get used to this?
My pocketbook buzzed.
Oh shit. That’s my phone.
My nerves instantly frazzled. I’d been waiting for my phone to ring this whole time. No one had called. Upon arriving in Nice, I’d been calling everyone and even texting them once a day. I didn’t want to bother Jean-Pierre, but I’d planned on asking him to check on my roommate Leo. He hadn’t responded back to any of my messages. I’d been asking how Vibrato and he was doing. And each time no response came.
Who is it? Leo? Celina? Shalimar?
I spoke to the table in garbled French, “Excuse me. I have to take this phone call.”
Jean-Pierre’s aunts smiled and then nodded. His other cousins continued their conversation. However, Jean-Pierre and Rafael rose from the table and followed me.
I continued several feet away from the noise and pulled out my phone.
Jean-Pierre walked over to me. “Who is it? You look worried.”
I checked the screen. “The number is hidden.”
“I expected that.” Jean-Pierre got to my side. “Answer and put it on speaker.”
I did. “Hello?”
Shalimar’s voice came over. “Eden, are you alone?”
I glanced at Jean-Pierre.
He nodded.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m alone.”
Fear dotted her words. “Where are you?”
I knew Jean-Pierre didn’t like people to know about his place in Nice, so I lied. “I’m in Paris. Where are you, Shalimar? What’s wrong?”
“I’m in Paris too. And everything is wrong. I shouldn’t do this, but I have to.”
Shocked, I stuttered, “W-what? You’re in Paris. Why?”
“Long, tragic story. One I can tell you later. Do you think you can get away from Jean-Pierre? You’re still with him, right?”
“Yes. . .I’m still with him. . .and yeah I can get away from him.”
What the hell is going on?
“Today?” she asked.
I bit my lip. We were in Nice. I’d just told her I was in Par
is. Jean-Pierre nodded at me to tell her yes. Did he intend for me to meet with Shalimar, or someone else? There’d been a reason she didn’t want him listening in on this phone call. What if the information that she had to give me dealt with him? What if he knew about it?
Or am I just being paranoid? Who wouldn’t in this situation?
“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t meet with you today.”
Rafael frowned.
Jean-Pierre kept a neutral expression, but I could tell he was pissed.
“I figured that,” Shalimar said. “Let’s meet tomorrow afternoon. Tell Jean-Pierre it’s a nail appointment. We’ll meet at a nail salon. Get a pen and paper really quick. I can meet you at the address, but it has to be fast.”
Rafael pulled out his phone and motioned at it to me.
“Go ahead, Shalimar. I’ve got it.”
She spouted out an address. I read it back to her from Raphael’s phone.
When I finished, she spoke with tension. “Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell Jean-Pierre, and definitely not Rafael.”
Rafael rolled his eyes.
“Why not?” I asked.
“You know why not. Celina told me that you know everything.”
I sighed. “So you’ve talked to my aunt?”
“Unfortunately. Thanks for that by the way. Celina may never forgive me.”
I raised the phone closer to my mouth. “Why are you in France?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because someone could be listening.”
Jean-Pierre raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll see you 2pm tomorrow,” she said. “It will be really quick. I have to give you something.”
“What?”
“I’m not telling you on the phone. I probably shouldn’t have even said that. In fact, let’s get off the line now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“But Shalimar—”
She hung up.
Fuck.
I turned my phone off.
Rafael seethed with anger. “Why the hell didn’t you tell her you could meet with her today?”
“Because it would take me a while to get up there—”
Jean-Pierre interrupted. “You weren’t going to meet with her.”
“I was.”
“You won’t.” He turned to Rafael. “Trace the number. If you can, get Shalimar tonight. If not, meet her at the address tomorrow.”
Rafael grinned and then did a dramatic salute. “That’s the best order I’ve received this decade.”
Rafael left us there.
Jean-Pierre turned my way.
I leaned my head to the side. “I’m not going to meet with her tomorrow?”
“No, you’re not.”
I swallowed. “That’s not your decision to make.”
“Really?” He crossed his arms. “I’ve been told that it is my decision.”
“I understand that there are other elements at play—”
“You have no idea of the monsters that we’re dealing with. I don’t want you near any of this. I said I would do my best to shield it from you, and that’s what I’m doing.”
Of course he had a point. And of course, he knew exactly what the hell he was talking about. But I didn’t want to be out of the loop when it came to Shalimar and my aunt.
He closed the distance between us. “I can’t let you go to Shalimar, but I’ll bring her to you. Whatever she has to say and give you, she’ll do it here. And you both will have your privacy.”
“Will we?”
“You will. I promise you that.”
“But you’ll talk to her first?”
He stirred a little. “I won’t, but Rafael will.”
“And he’ll be nice?”
He smiled. “You’re worrying about Rafael hurting Shalimar? It’s more of the other way around. I would go with him, if not for our trip—”
I shook my head. “Then, let’s go. I want to be there.”
“In Paris?”
“Yes. I’m on edge. I’ve loved meeting your family and seeing your hometown, but I need to know what’s going on with my aunt and her. This is crazy. Shalimar being in Paris is no coincidence. I’m sure my aunt is here or around, and I want to talk to Aunt Celina, before she tries to do something that brings more violence.”
He blinked.
“If anything deals with my aunt or Shalimar, I want to be in the loop.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
He frowned. “And if the news becomes too much?”
“Then, I’ll tell you that’s it too much for me.”
“So long as you don’t run away.”
“I didn’t think I had that option.”
He smiled. “Fair point. We’ll return to Paris this evening.”
“Will Rafael leave earlier?”
“I’m sure Rafael is already halfway to the airport.”
I gazed around. Rafael was nowhere in sight. He must’ve rushed off to the car.
“If we want to leave with him now, then he’ll have to wait for us, and he won’t. This evening will be better.”
I turned Jean-Pierre’s way. “As long as we go. I’m cool.”
“We will.”
We returned to the table, but the mood had definitely changed. Shalimar had sounded scared. Something had happened that had forced her to come to Paris, or was this a ploy from my aunt? I was sure Jean-Pierre thought it too but didn’t want to say anything.
That’s why he doesn’t want me to go by myself.
What if Aunt Celina showed up at the nail salon too? Shalimar talked as if I wasn’t supposed to be in contact with her.
At least, Aunt Celina had heard my messages.
Shalimar was in Paris. Rafael had traced her phone and was heading to grab her. And Jean-Pierre and I would be following right behind them this evening.
As I sat at my table and tried to follow his aunts’ French, I couldn’t help but feel trapped in a surreal moment—one outside of my complete reality. How had I ended up on a beach in the South of France? Months ago, I was broke, and in America.
But Jean-Pierre and Aunt Celina had been battling, even then.
And now I was fully involved.
And all that fighting must end.
Jean-Pierre grabbed my hand under the table. “Are you okay?”
“I am.”
“I don’t want you to worry.”
“I’m nervous about what might happen in the next twenty-four hours, but there’s one thing that I’m confidant in.”
His voice lowered. “What, reine?”
“I know you’ll protect me. I know that everything will work out.”
He kissed me. “Espérons que c'est vrai, ma reine.”
Chapter 5
A Breathless Vision
Jean-Pierre
A lot hung heavy on my mind. But one thing made me smile.
Eden won over my family.
My aunts had been pissed at our early departure, blaming it on me. In many ways they were right. I should’ve ended this business with Celina long ago.
What did Shalimar want to tell Eden? Why did she hurry over to Paris?
If this was some strategy for Celina to get Eden back, she would fail. I had already delivered men to the nail salon’s address. They surrounded the location. Various men on various levels of the blocks. Snipers. Local police. Even the janitor of the nail salon had been replaced with one of mine.
Nothing could go wrong.
The only joy that would come from this meeting with Shalimar tomorrow… was that there would be some finality in the situation. Surely, Celina would call a cease fire when she knew there was no other option.
We returned to my penthouse in Paris that night and passed out. I’d had a lot to catch up on, so I’d left the bed before sunrise, hoping I could return before Eden woke up.
I never got that chance.
I ar
rived at my office.
“Good morning, sir.” One of my men opened the door.
Giorgio stood next to the window, peering out by the curtain. “When I came here, I spotted a van full of Russians outside the building.”
“You can’t see them from here? We’re too high up.” I went to my small office bar and poured a whiskey. “Besides, security told me about the men when I arrived. Russians, but no one knows from what part of the country.”
“Whiskey for breakfast?”
“I’m on edge.”
“I see.” Giorgio placed the curtain back and patted it down as if to prevent any wrinkles. “Does it matter what type of Russian these guys are?”
“It may. I don’t know if Kazimir has a strong hold on all his Bratva right now.”
“Do you think Kazimir has them watching you?”
“If not him, then Celina.”
“Louis had interesting news.” Giorgio placed a folder on my desk. “Kazimir’s cousin, Misha, is looking for Celina too.”
That can’t be good.
Giorgio continued, “Misha has been asking low level thugs around Paris, London, and Amsterdam to find, capture, and bring Celina to him.”
“Not a good sign.”
Igor had been killed, leaving his son Misha, and mistress Celina as survivors. Now Misha was looking for Celina.
Why is he looking for her? Had Celina caused problems over there? And did it relate to Eden or me?
Kazimir was Misha’s cousin, and he loved his Uncle Igor a lot. Many believed Igor gave Kazimir counsel and held on to the Bratva’s top secrets.
Did they think Celina had something to do with Igor’s death?
I hoped not. Because if they did, then I would have to step in and save her due to the fact that Celina didn’t put out the hit on Igor. I did, but on Sasha’s behalf and using his own Bratva to keep the Corsican out of it.
I bet on Sasha, and it was wrong. Kazimir beat him. Now Kazimir’s in Paris. Can’t be a coincidence.
“Hmmm.” I tapped the desk. “Why is Misha searching for his father’s mistress? What does Celina have, or know that could make him chase, and her run?”
“I don’t know. Celina went quiet. She’s using another passport and ID. Shalimar rushed to Europe.” Giorgio poured his own drink. “Louis’s men went to Belladonna to check her old place. There were two female dead bodies inside.”