by Penelope Sky
I turned my eyes back to the road. “Yes.”
She turned back to the window and relaxed. “That’s nice…” She got comfortable and closed her eyes, her arms crossing over her body like she was cold from AC. “I can’t wait to see it.”
When I glanced at her, her eyes were closed, and there were bumps on her arms.
I turned down the air and turned on some music so she wouldn’t have to listen to the engine roar every time I accelerated.
Twelve
Napoleon
It was technically an apartment, but it felt more like a small estate. I enjoyed solitude at my estate in the countryside, but I also enjoyed the hustle of the city, the nearby bars, the brilliant view of the Eiffel Tower over the large pond right outside the front of my property.
I thought she would like it…which was another reason I decided to stay here.
I drove slowly down the road around the pond and approached the apartment.
Her eyes opened when the car slowed down. She blinked a few times before she sat up and looked at the landscape around her. The perimeter of the pond was lit with subtle lights, and white Christmas lights were wrapped around the surrounding trees even though the holidays were long gone. The tower stood in the distance, and she stared at it like it was a beacon of hope.
I opened my private gate remotely then pulled into my driveway where my garage was. There were buildings down the line, my neighbors having the same view that I did. Every morning, the residents left their homes and jogged around the park before walking to work in the heart of the city.
Her expression told me everything. “Oh my god…this place is beautiful.”
I closed the garage behind us, and then we stepped into the elevator. The ground floor had no access, to make it impossible for robbers to get inside. I hit the code, and we rose to the entry level of my apartment.
When the doors opened, she stepped inside and looked around, seeing the grand entryway, the intricate moldings on the wall, the flecks of gold across the ceilings, the Parisian style windows and the hardwood floors. She immediately went to the window and looked outside, gazing over the pond and to the tower nearby.
I stopped and stared at her back, seeing the way she appreciated the city that had been so cruel to her. She worshiped it like it was her home, when she was really a long-term tourist. Her previous life had been permanently taken away from her, but the love in her heart was unstoppable.
I moved farther into the house. There was a sitting area on this level that I never used, along with guest bedrooms that were also never used.
When she heard me walk away, she followed me. “This place is…gorgeous.” She looked at the lights that extended from the walls and lit up the artwork above. Her fingers moved to the intricate gold leaves that were embedded in the wall. Then she examined the traditional Parisian furniture, the Turkish rug, the ancient statues.
Most of the women I brought here didn’t extend a single compliment, like they were trying to impress me by not being impressed. “This is your room.” I opened one of the guest bedrooms, which had a view of the park and the tower. There was a pile of clothes for her on the bed to wear during her stay.
She looked at the open window for a moment before she looked at the clothes. “How did these get here?”
“My property manager.”
“What’s a property manager?”
“Someone who manages all my homes and prepares them for my arrival on a whim’s notice.” I turned away and walked back into the sitting area and to the stairs. It’d been a long day. I was tired and hungry.
She came after me. “Where are you—”
“This is how this is going to work. I’ve armed the place with an alarm, so if you try to leave, I’ll know. You won’t get far, and when I get to you, I’ll drown you in that pond right outside. Got it?”
Her expression immediately fell in disappointment. “I told you I wouldn’t run—”
“That means nothing to me.”
She stilled at my hostility.
“There’s food in the kitchen. Help yourself.” I turned to the stairs.
“What about you?”
“I have a kitchen up here.” I moved halfway up the stairs and turned back around. “Don’t come up here. It’s off-limits.”
“What if I need something?”
“You’re on your own.” I moved the rest of the way and made it to the third floor. The lights were already on because my manager had readied it for me, and since I was starving, I immediately went to the fridge and pulled out the dinner prepared for me. I scarfed it down because I was so hungry, washing it down with a vintage bottle of wine, and then I showered and went straight to bed.
When I woke up the next morning, I put on my running shorts and shoes to run in the park. I walked down the stairs to the second landing, and she must have been listening for the sound of my steps because she came out of her bedroom. She was in the clothes Miranda had picked out based on my description of her, wearing a simple floral dress. Her hair was done, she wore makeup once again, and she looked like a different person once she was back to a normal life.
I ignored the way she stared at me and headed to the door toward the elevator.
“Where are you going?” She followed after me.
“A run.”
“Can I come?”
I turned back around. “The only reason I brought you here is so the guards won’t tear you to pieces. Don’t get in my way. Don’t bother me. I want you to pretend you don’t exist, alright? There’s a TV, a kitchen, books in the library. Don’t speak to me again.” I headed back to the elevator.
“You saved me just to lock me up in here?” she asked in disappointment.
I turned back to her, immediately furious. “Would you rather I have left you there?”
Her eyes shifted back and forth, slightly afraid of my anger. “Don’t mistake my question as a lack of gratitude. I just want to go outside. Please let me go outside. I promise I won’t run.”
“You’ve been outside every day for six weeks.”
“Not the same and you know it. I can keep up with you.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Let me try.”
My hands moved to my hips, and I stepped closer to her, my bare chest already starting to sweat from the anger. “I want to come and go as I please. I don’t want to be interrupted. If you annoy me too much, I might just leave you there next time.” I turned around and hit the button on the elevator.
“Magnus…you can trust me.”
I stared at the doors and waited.
“If I make a promise, I keep it.”
I listened to the mechanism as the elevator was pulled to my level.
“I would never compromise you—”
“You already did compromise me. You already betrayed my trust.” I stepped into the elevator and turned around to look at her. “And once that happens, you can never get it back.” I hit the button, and the doors started to close.
She stood there the entire time, her eyes filled with emotion. “I saved your life… That has to count for something.”
The doors closed, and I started to move to the ground floor. “How many times have I saved yours?”
She stayed out of my way after that.
I set the alarm every time I left so I would know the second she tried to run. I thought about bringing men over to watch the elevator so she couldn’t try, but I didn’t like having anyone in my homes besides Miranda and myself. If Raven ran for it, there was no doubt I would find her.
But would I find her before Fender found out?
That was the problem.
I got dressed, grabbed my keys and wallet, and headed downstairs to depart.
She came out of her bedroom, wearing pajama shorts and a spaghetti strap top. It revealed a lot of skin, showing how toned her legs were from working every day at the camp, her flat and strong stomach just beneath the hem of the top. Her bathroom was full of various beauty
supplies because if I had to bring Raven here every time I returned to Paris, I wanted to make sure she didn’t ask me for anything. Her hair was in soft curls down her body, the first time I’d seen it done that way. There was no denying her beauty, and sometimes, that magnetic pull I felt for her drew me in.
But I severed it.
“Where are you going?” Her nipples hardened through the thin fabric of her top, like she was cold or scared.
I didn’t look directly, but I could see it in my peripheral. “Work.”
“Work where?”
Just like that, she ignited my fury. “There’s obviously a misunderstanding here if you think you have any right to ask me anything.”
Her blue eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into my face, her eyelashes thick from the makeup, the bright color even more vibrant in this lighting. “I’m not being nosy. I just…” She dropped her chin for a second. “Look, I know you’re angry with me and you don’t trust me, but…if this is going to be a long-term thing, we should talk to each other—”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t just—”
“Yes, we can. The only reason I brought you here is to save your ass—literally. Make no mistake, you’re still a prisoner. You’re just a prisoner here instead of there. Change of location, that’s all it is.” I turned to walk to the elevator.
“Are you doing anything dangerous?”
“I only do dangerous things.” I hit the button for the elevator.
She came up behind me. “Just…be careful.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder before I stepped into the elevator. “You’re the one who should be careful.”
When I arrived at the estate, they patted me down for guns then allowed me inside.
I came alone because I was fearless.
They were the ones that wanted something from me—after all.
I moved through the impressive grand entryway, past the butler, and into the parlor where I’d meet the infamous Napoleon. Rich from blood diamonds in Africa, he wanted to be a distributor to that continent, which meant he needed a big cut of product from us on a regular basis.
He had men and butlers throughout the house, perhaps to show his status, but the parlor was empty except for him. He didn’t rise from his chair to greet me. “Magnus.” He nodded to the couch in front of me.
I took a seat directly across from him.
His hand rested on the top of his cane, which had a diamond in the pommel. He wasn’t my age, but he was too young a man to be helpless without a cane, though a life in the fast lane resulted in injuries that never really healed. “What’s your poison?”
“The same as yours.”
He snapped his fingers, bringing a butler into the room. “Open a red. Barsetti Vineyards.”
The butler retrieved the bottle, opened it in front of us, and poured two glasses.
We were silent during the process, nothing but eye contact.
The butler left the bottle behind and disappeared.
I took a drink then set it down.
He didn’t touch his.
“How much product do you want?”
“Africa is a big place…”
“We’re loyal distributors, so we can’t back out of commitments with other clients. I can give you what we have, but it won’t be enough for a continent that size.”
“Can’t you get more?”
I relaxed into the leather couch, crossing one ankle and resting it on the opposite knee. I took my time answering the question, always keeping my cards to my chest, regardless of how innocent the question seemed. “Like I said, Africa is a big place. We’ll never get enough product to satisfy such a large area. We can negotiate a specific amount—and nothing more.”
“Is that why you haven’t moved your enterprise into Italy? Because you don’t have enough?”
This was starting to feel like an interrogation—and I didn’t like that. “Italy is already claimed by the Skull Kings. Pointless to break into that market. France is our territory, and we respect the territory of others.” Italy had an extensive underground criminal underworld, and for us to cross the border and infiltrate such a place would be an undertaking unworthy of our time. If Napoleon wanted to compete with other kingpins in Africa, we had nothing to do with that. Our hands were clean.
Napoleon stared with his steely gaze, watching me with a poker face nearly as good as mine. His wine was untouched, and he gripped his cane like he might need it to fight me off if this conversation didn’t go the way he wanted.
“If you want to be a dealer, we have rules. Abide by those rules, and we don’t have a problem.”
Silence.
“Are you still interested?”
“Very.”
I didn’t ask how he intended to smuggle the drugs into Africa because it was none of our concern. Once he paid for the product, the transaction was finished. “I will take your interest into consideration. You can expect a phone call with our answer.” I rose to my feet. “Thank you for the wine.”
“Your answer?” he asked, slightly amused. “Didn’t realize there was an application process.”
I stared down at him, seeing his crossed legs, his navy-blue suit rising up and revealing his maroon socks underneath. “We don’t accept just anyone. It’s the reason we’ve been in business so long…”
I sat on the couch and watched Fender walk into the sitting room, his black sweatpants low on his hips and his bare chest in view. A scotch was in his hand, and he took a drink as he sat across from me. “How’d it go?”
“I don’t like him.”
He held the glass in his hand. “You don’t like anyone, Magnus.”
I was more than cautious; I was paranoid. Trust was impossible to earn from me. They could say all the words I wanted to hear, but the content of the conversation meant nothing. It was the energy in the room. Betrayal had a scent, had a spirit, and I certainly felt it in Napoleon’s company. “I don’t trust him.”
“Why?”
I shook my head. “He asked questions I didn’t appreciate.”
“Such as?”
“Why we haven’t crossed the border into Italy.”
“Maybe it’s because he intends to.” He took a drink. “Wish him luck.”
“I don’t think—”
Melanie’s voice interrupted us. “Fender?”
I looked at my watch and saw the hour. It was almost midnight.
He looked up at her. “Yes?”
She stilled when she saw me on the other couch. She was in one of his shirts that fit her like a blanket. Her hair was down, and there was no makeup on her face. “I woke up…and you weren’t there.” She spoke to him but stared at me.
“I’ll be up in a minute.”
She lingered. “Is she here?”
I nodded.
She turned to Fender. “Can I see—”
“Go to bed.” His affectionate tone was gone and replaced by one of a dictator. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She didn’t argue and walked away.
He shook his head when she was gone. “All she ever talks about is her obnoxious sister. Maybe I should kill her, so I don’t have to hear about her anymore—from either one of you.” He shot me a glare before he drank his scotch.
I didn’t take threats from him lightly. “You’ll lose her affection and never get it back.”
He looked into his glass with no reaction, but he seemed to have come to the same conclusion because he didn’t snap at me. “I hope you’re enjoying her.”
All I did was nod. We’d been there for a week, and we’d barely exchanged a few words. I kept her at a distance because my resentment had never faded away. I was spiteful. I held grudges for decades.
“I’m sure the guards weren’t happy.”
“They’ll get over it.” I knew I’d have to deal with Alix when I returned…might even have to kill him. Fender would be furious to lose another executioner since it was a difficult job to replace,
so I would avoid that if possible. “I think we should pass on Napoleon.”
“You pass on a lot of partners, Magnus.”
“For good reason. All it takes is one bad seed…and we lose it all.”
“Yes, but now that we’ve increased our production, we need to sell it to someone to distribute. Napoleon would work in Africa, so he wouldn’t infringe on any domestic territory. We won’t saturate the market and upset our current clients.”
I knew he would say that. “I felt like he was trying to get information from me.”
“By asking about Italy? Again, he might have his own eyes on it.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t think so.”
He swirled the contents of his glass before he set it on the table between us. “Sleep on it for a few days.”
“I’ve made my decision.”
“He’s too great a partner to pass up without concrete information. We’ll look into him.”
“We won’t find anything because it’s impossible to discover intention.”
“Magnus—”
“I think he’s trying to figure out how much coke we’re getting in an effort to deduce how we’re getting it…so he can come in and steal the business from us.”
He stared at me. “Our Colombian partners would never betray us.”
“Betrayal can be bought. The diamond business is just as lucrative as ours. He has the money. He could be trying to acquire our assets to take over France, Africa, and maybe Italy.”
“No one can take over Italy. They’d be stupid to try.”
I shook my head. “And maybe he’s stupid enough.”
Fender relaxed into the chair, his neck resting on the back of the couch as he looked at the ceiling, thinking it over.
I rubbed my hands together as I leaned forward, waiting for the thoughts he was collecting.
He leaned forward again, releasing a quick breath. “We’ll think it over.”
He never overrode me, and I knew he was only doing it now because of greed. “Fender, we’re already richer than most countries combined. No reason to risk all of that for just a little more—”