The Butcher (Fifth Republic #1)

13. Fleur

Bastien didn’t text me.

He said I would see him tomorrow, but tomorrow was today, and there was no sign of him. I didn’t text him because I didn’t want to smother him with my neediness. It was a casual relationship and he didn’t owe me anything, but his silence made me wonder if his flame for me had been extinguished. He said his longest fling was a week, and we’d been going at it for a month now. So I assumed that he would pull the plug any day, that he would get tired of me when he found my replacement on his midnight adventures.

I didn’t want it to end, not yet, but holding on to him tighter would just push him away quicker.

So I didn’t text him.

I was alone in my apartment with the TV on, the darkness pressing against the windows while it rained. An ambulance drove by, and the sound reverberated against the buildings as it passed and then faded as it crossed the bridge. The divorce papers were on the dining table because I would submit the paperwork tomorrow.

I didn’t have a shift at the bar tonight, but I wished I did just to stay busy. I knew I needed to find a job better than that one, something that paid enough for me to start a new life. I grabbed my laptop and searched job listings in the hope I would find something that paid well and that I was remotely qualified for.

But it was slim pickings.

Bastien texted me. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

I was relieved and disappointed by that message. When I asked for space, he gave it to me without an interrogation, so I did the same for him. Most guys would have just left me hanging, and then if I asked about his silence later, he would have called me clingy or annoying. But Bastien didn’t do that. He was different. He treated me like I was important even though I was someone whose name he would forget in a couple months. If he settled down someday, whoever he gave his heart to would be the luckiest woman in the world. You know where to find me.

I went to the courthouse the next day and submitted the finalized paperwork. Once it was processed, the divorce proceedings would move to a hearing. Adrien had earned most of his wealth while he was married to me, so we had to settle all the communal property, from the house in Paris to the one we owned in the Loire Valley.

But I didn’t want any of it.

After that, I went on a few job interviews I’d set up, but I could tell by their reception of me that I had no chance of getting the positions. One was for a clerk at the courthouse, another was for an assistant at an art house, and another was an office job for an investment company.

By the time I made it back home, it was evening and time for dinner, but I had no food in the apartment. I decided to head downstairs to Poppy Café to order some fondue fries and have a smoke, sitting alone while groups of friends met up together after a day at the office, having a drink and a smoke before heading home to their apartments.

Bastien texted me. I’m in the neighborhood.

My heart did a little dance inside my chest, and that gave me a jolt of fear. When did my happiness become so dependent on this man? When did I become so attached? I should be heartbroken over Adrien, and despite what he did, I should still miss him. But now, all my thoughts were occupied by the man who’d picked me up in a bar. I’m having a smoke at Poppy Café.

Sounds like you had a rough day .

You could say that…

See you in a sec, sweetheart.

The black SUV appeared a moment later, and the behemoth of a man appeared. In a long-sleeved black shirt and dark jeans with boots, he approached my table on the patio, drawing attention from the other women seated nearby and the pedestrians who walked down the cobblestone street toward the mall. He did something he’d never done before—and leaned down and kissed me.

I saw cold stars and felt hot flames on my lips. A surge of affection that started in my core made it to my throat and my heart. The attachment I feared had just increased tenfold.

He took the seat across from me and pulled out a cigar before he lit up. Nonchalant, he got the attention of the waitress and ordered one of his stiff drinks, oblivious to the mark he’d left on my mouth—and my heart.

He took a drink before he took a puff of his cigar. The smoke rested on his tongue for a long time before he released it through his mouth, creating a big cloud of smoke around us. He crossed his arms over his chest, the cigar resting between his fingertips, and he stared at me for a solid five seconds.

I knew he wanted to know about my day but didn’t want to pry. “I submitted the paperwork—for the last time, I hope.”

“It will be.”

“I guess it feels different this time because I know it’ll go through.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I’m happy to be free of Adrien, but it’s the first time I’ve truly realized that I’m getting divorced. I’m going to court and everything. Going to take back my maiden name. I was so busy being angry that I forgot what would come afterward.”

He watched me for a while, his arms still crossed over his chest. “You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared. I just… It’s hard to start over.” I’d lost most of my friends. I loved his parents, but now they would never speak to me again, even though I was the victim in the marriage. I loved his entire family, felt like they were my family, and now I would never see them again. It fucking sucked.

“It’s okay to be scared, sweetheart. You can’t be brave if you aren’t scared—and you are brave.”

All the pain I felt was replaced by warmth, warmth that he put there. “How do you do that?”

“What?” He cocked his head slightly.

“You always know what to say.”

He gave a slight shrug. “I don’t bullshit, so you know I mean everything I say.”

“Maybe…” Maybe it was because I could trust him. He was the only person in my life I had to trust.

He took another puff of his cigar before he kept it in his mouth, let the taste absorb into his tongue. He let the smoke out from the crack between his lips.

I finished my cigarette and put it out, knowing I needed to stop the habit again. It’d gotten worse over the last few weeks. When I thought Bastien was trying to shake me, it got worse, going from one cigarette a day to at least five. “I had a couple job interviews. I didn’t get any of them.”

“They answered you that quickly?”

“No, but I could tell they weren’t interested. I wasn’t qualified for most of the jobs, so I’m not sure why they interviewed me in the first place.”

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

I shrugged. “Anything with decent pay, really. I’m tired of working nights too. Hard to believe, but I used to be a morning person before I started at Silencio.”

“Are you decent with computers? Spreadsheets, Excel, shit like that?”

“I suppose.” I owned a laptop, but I didn’t use it much. Had never worked in an office before. “I’m a fast learner, whatever is thrown at me.”

“I can get you a position at one of my investment firms. One of my finance guys needs an executive assistant—and he’s gay.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He smirked. “You think I’m gonna let my girl work for some asshole, wearing a tight pencil skirt all day? That ass is mine.” He took another puff of his cigar, and when he spoke, the smoke billowed out of his mouth. “It’s yours if you want it.”

“Your girl?” I asked without thinking, surprised that he’d said that.

He rested the cigar between his relaxed fingertips, lounging in the chair like he wasn’t the least bit stressed about the label he’d used so effortlessly. “I said what I said.” With confidence in his stare, he looked at me like he didn’t care how I felt about that. He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of him, and that included me. “So?”

His words made my heart race in excitement, made my palms warm despite the cold night air. But it also made the fear worse, because the last thing I wanted was to be in the same position as the one I’d just left. “That’s really sweet of you to do that, but it wouldn’t be right.”

“How so?”

“I would be taking the job from someone actually qualified for it.”

“Let me give you a life lesson, sweetheart. When someone opens a door, you just walk through it. Don’t wait for it to close because it might be locked the next time you try to open it. Life is fucking hard, and you should use every advantage you have at your disposal. The advantage you have right now is me. Use me.”

Every moment I spent with him made me more attracted to him. The words he spoke, the confidence he showed, the straightforward, no-bullshit way he handled his life and everyone in it. The pull between us grew in intensity and had the strength of a black hole, sucking me further into his soul. I’d loved Adrien with all my heart and wanted to spend my life with him, but I’d never felt for him the way I felt for Bastien, a man I still considered a stranger in a lot of ways. I didn’t know how to process these feelings. I didn’t know if I should see it through or pull the plug while I still had the strength.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be there on Monday.” He tapped his cigar into the ashtray and let the ashes sprinkle the bowl before he took another puff, his jawline sharpening when he pulled the smoke into his mouth.

I was desperate for a job, desperate to be out of that bar where all the sleazebags hit on me all night long. I wanted to be in bed at a reasonable hour, not at four a.m., not unless I was with Bastien. “Thank you.”

He enjoyed his cigar in silence, looking at me across the table with his arms crossed.

“So…how have you been?” I knew he’d had a rough few days, judging by his clipped tone over text. He was usually playful whenever we spoke, and when he wasn’t, I knew something else was on his mind.

“Bunch of bullshit at work.”

I didn’t ask for specifics. If he wanted to share, he could.

“Some of my dealers continue to use trafficked women as free labor. I took down one of them, but he refused to roll on his supplier.”

“Roll?”

“Snitch,” he explained. “The guy has two teenage daughters too. How fucking sick is that?”

“What did you do?”

“He broke the law, so I had to execute him.”

“Even though he has a family?”

“I don’t give a shit if you have a family or not,” he snapped. “You want to deal in my city, then you follow the rules. That fucking simple.” He put out the cigar then grabbed the drink instead.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“If you don’t want to offend me, then don’t judge me.” Now his eyes were ruthless, and for the first time, they were ruthless for me.

“I wasn’t judging you,” I said calmly. “I’m sorry if I made it seem that way.”

His eyes flicked away and he took a breath, an attempt to calm himself. “I have to maintain order. If I let a family man live, then I have to let another man live. Then I’ll lose respect and authority, then the Republic will fall, the old order will return, and Godric will rule this city. Trust me, no one wants that—even if you aren’t in the game.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was afraid if I said anything else, I would provoke him again. “I missed you these last few days—and the last thing I want to do is upset you. So please forget I said anything.” I didn’t like his angry side. I loved his intense and playful side, the way he smiled when I complimented him, the way he smothered me in his affection even when he didn’t touch me.

Slowly, his anger passed like a storm cloud moving over the sky. Light came back into his eyes like the rising sun. He raised his hand slightly and gestured for the check. “My place or yours?”

“Yours.” My apartment was small, the walls were slanted and restrictive for a man his height, and it was messy and cold. I loved his home, loved the soft sheets on his bed, his enormous bathroom with an expansive vanity, the view of the Eiffel Tower from the window of the terrace. I loved the large fireplace in the sitting room, the way it warmed my naked body when we fucked on the couch.

When the tab came, he slipped a wad of cash inside, way too much for the drinks and fries we’d ordered, and then he pulled out his phone and fired off a message to his driver. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

When we walked into his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a rock-hard chest and stomach covered in black ink. His shoulders were like mountains, and his biceps looked like grenades.

He came at me with that look that could kill before he pulled my sweater over my head and unclasped my bra. He lifted me into him so he could smother me in kisses, kissing my shoulder then my collarbone, kissing the hollow of my throat then my chest. He carried me to the edge of the bed and dropped me on it before he moved for my boots and jeans, tugging everything off, taking my thong with the jeans.

He grabbed my ankles and placed my feet against his chest before he dropped his jeans and boxers, letting them fall to his knees before he grabbed my hips and tugged my ass to the edge. He moved in a rush, like it was the first time he had me, the first time he got to bury himself inside me and release. He folded my knees against my waist then pushed inside with a satisfied sigh. “Fuck, I missed this pussy.” He grabbed one of my tits and squeezed hard as he started to thrust inside me, my ass over the edge, giving me his full length like he wanted it to hurt.

I reached out my hands for his hips, and I tried to grip them to pull myself back into him. It’d been days of separation but it felt like weeks, and having him inside me felt so damn good, no matter how much it hurt. It was like a glass of cool water on a hot day. A warm meal on a winter night. Exactly what my body needed to feel good.

His hand left my tit and went for my throat. He squeezed it as he fucked me, one hand still pinned underneath my thigh, folding me like a pretzel because I was flexible enough to bend the way he wanted.

Once he started, he didn’t let up, like he wanted to fuck me into a fast climax because he was eager to come. His handsome face tinted red, and the cords started to pop in his neck and his forearm. “Play with yourself.”

My nails continued to dig into his hips as I held on, his dick even fuller at this direct angle, filling me up completely. Watching him work and thrust to fuck me was enough to make me come, and I was already at the threshold.

“Show me.” He squeezed my throat.

My fingers went to my clit, and I started to play with myself, rubbing in a circular motion, applying the pressure that I liked. I tried to gasp, but he tightened his grip and my words disappeared into the void.

Less than a minute later, I finished, bucking against my fingers, his big dick ballooning inside me even more as he watched me reach the clouds.

He grabbed on to my hips and tugged me hard against him, giving me all his length as he came, as he released deep inside me and made one of his biggest deposits. He gave the sexiest moan when he finished, his eyes locked on me possessively. “Turn over.”

Lost in the haze of the lingering climax, I didn’t understand what he said.

“I said, turn over.” He pulled out and started to roll me over, getting me on my hands and knees. He grabbed my hips and tugged me to the edge of the bed again before he shoved himself inside me once more, just as hard as he’d been a minute ago. He fisted my hair and tugged me back like I was a horse, and he fucked me relentlessly. Then his palm struck my ass with a hard smack.

I cried out then moaned, hating the pain but loving the pleasure that followed.

He spanked me again, harder this time.

I cried out louder, feeling the sting of his palm against my flesh, feeling how hot and red the skin turned.

“Want me to stop, sweetheart?” His palm turned gentle, his fingers kneading my ass as he continued to fuck me.

“No.”

His fingers grazed over the flesh gently before he gave me another squeeze. Then he spanked me again, harder than before. “I didn’t think so.”

I woke up in the middle of the night to pee.

That was when I realized he wasn’t there. The sheets were cool, like he’d been gone awhile, like he hadn’t left for a moment to use the bathroom. I blinked a couple times to discern the darkness in the bedroom before I left the bed. I’d fallen asleep without any clothing, so I helped myself to a t-shirt from one of his drawers. My fingers grazed something cool, and that’s when I realized there was a pistol there. I stilled before I gently removed the shirt without touching the gun and pulled it over my head, the soft cotton immediately swallowing me whole like a blanket. I went into his big bathroom with the golden sinks and the dark wallpaper and did my business in the dim light. When I left, I looked through the crack in the door that led to the sitting room and found him sitting at his desk, the fire burning in the hearth and basking him in a gentle glow, his eyes out the window on the Eiffel Tower and the rest of the city.

I watched him for a while, seeing the heaviness in his eyes, the weight of his troubles.

He brought a cigar to his lips and took a drag as he continued to stare out the window. After a pause of several seconds, he released the smoke from his mouth, creating a cloud that hung in the room before it floated elsewhere.

I opened the door wider and stepped into the room.

His eyes immediately flicked to me like he didn’t realize I was awake. He immediately ground the tip of the cigar in the black ashtray on his desk to put it out. His striking blue eyes looked into mine with that usual calm confidence, a man who was always composed, regardless of what transpired underneath. “A little early for pancakes…”

The shirt was so big that one side of it slid off my body and exposed my shoulder. It almost hit my knees, fitting like a dress rather than a shirt. “It’s never too early for pancakes.” I gave him a slight smile before I approached his desk, my arms across my stomach because there was a cold draft in the room from where he cracked the balcony door to let the smoke out.

He left his chair and wordlessly shut the door, stopping the cold air from entering the room. He didn’t move behind the desk again but instead came straight to me, circling his arm around the small of my back and pulling me into him hard before he brushed a kiss over the corner of my mouth. “Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He was warm to the touch, hot like the fire that burned in the hearth, bare-chested and covered in his black ink. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips, and he was barefoot.

“What about you?” I asked quietly.

“Not tired.” He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his large chest, his eyes showing the fatigue he claimed not to have.

“Something is bothering you.” As far as I knew, he was always beside me all throughout the night, whether he was awake or not. But something troubled him enough to get out of bed and stay there.

His blue eyes were locked on mine with that quiet confidence. “I knew what I signed up for when I took this job. It is what it is.”

“I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“That’ll be the easy part.” His eyes shifted past me, back out the window with the Eiffel Tower brilliant in the dark.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He was quiet for a long time, letting the silence pass for so long it seemed like he might not say anything at all. “My job isn’t usually complicated, but in this case, it is.”

“Why?”

He gave a slight shake of his head before he looked at me again. “These are my problems, not yours.”

“I care about your problems the way you care about mine.” A cheating husband and an impending divorce were probably inconsequential compared to the stuff he had to take on, but he still seemed invested in my well-being—and I was invested in his.

He dismissed what I said with his silence. “Are you busy next Saturday night?”

“I think I have a shift at the bar.”

“You have a new job, remember?”

“Oh yeah… But I still need to put in my two-week notice?—”

“You don’t owe them shit. They’ll get another pretty girl to take your spot in a day.”

I still felt bad about taking the handout, but it wasn’t like I was taking cash straight out of his wallet. I needed to move on and rebuild the life that had been taken from me. “Why are you asking?”

He reached for a card on his desk, a champagne-pink invitation with gold writing. “I’ve got this gala at Luxembourg Palace. I’d like you to come with me.” He tossed it back on the desk.

“Do you normally bring a date to these things?” He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to attend parties in the first place, a man who lurked in the shadows with a gun tucked into his jacket.

“No.”

“It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“If you don’t normally bring a date, then why are you asking me?”

“Because I want you to come with me.” He cocked his head slightly as he looked at me. “Is that a problem?”

I stilled at the power in his stare, the way he made me freeze with those blue eyes. “No.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Is this a black-tie type of thing?” I had been broke since the moment I’d moved out. The money I earned went to rent and food. I spent everything I made, and it wasn’t unusual for me to have twenty euros in my account until my next check came in. Thankfully, Bastien offered to pay for everything when we were together because I couldn’t even afford a drink most of the time. But a fancy party like this required a gown and diamonds and designer heels—all of which I didn’t have.