Chapter 14
Bianca
“You Should’ve Valued Me Higher”
Ipoured wine I didn’t even want into a glass and stared at the half-million-dollar contract that told me to shut up. Nonetheless, I signed it, and my signature looked too calm for the way I really felt. Ares always knew how to wound me with precision. A clean cut. No real warning. No apologies.
He ended us like a business merger he wanted out of.
Professional.
Respectful.
Heartless.
But the thing about heartless men was that I knew how to play their game better than they did. He must have forgotten who I was before him, who I was with, and who I could go back to.
What many people did not know was that I was with Laurent before Ares. Ares took me from Laurent. Promised to further my career and fucked me better than Laurent ever could. Laurent was pissed, but he knew not to approach Ares about it. But I always knew I could run back to him.
So now he was sitting at my kitchen island, sipping cognac, watching my every move in a sexual way that I was not ready to be on with him yet.
I lifted the glass to my lips and tasted the wine. It was expensive and bitter, like most of the choices I had made in my life.
“You read it twice already,” Laurent said, nodding toward the NDA and cashier’s check on the marble. “You are going to set it on fire or frame it?”
“Neither,” I muttered. “I am trying to decide if I want to choke on it.”
He chuckled and leaned back on the barstool, his shirt sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking at his wrists. Laurent Delacroix was a pretty white boy, but in that dangerous way. Light green eyes. broad shoulders. Tall. Just enough stubble to look careless and expensive at the same time.
“What is the problem, Bianca?” he asked. “Half a million is a nice parting gift for a girlfriend. I say go on vacation.”
I cut him a look. “I was not just a girlfriend.”
“No,” he agreed. “You were the clean-up crew. The fixer. The woman behind the Don. The one who made sure nobody could touch him.”
“Exactly. And this is his way of pretending none of that mattered. One check. One signature. One lifetime gag order.”
I read the line again. No books. No interviews. No social media posts. No implied defamation. No nothing. My whole story reduced to a paragraph of what I was never allowed to say.
“He did the same with the others?” Laurent asked casually.
“Different numbers. Different clauses. I am sure.” I took another sip. “But I am the only one who knows how much trouble he would be in if I ever opened my mouth.”
Laurent’s gaze sharpened. “Exactly.”
“You know what bothers me?” I said finally. “It’s not the ending. I knew he would never marry me. Men like Ares don’t marry women who know where the bodies are. It is the price he put on me. Half a million dollars for five years of my life.”
“How much did you put on yourself?” Laurent asked.
I scoffed. “More than that.”
“Then act like it.” His voice dropped, a little silkier, a little rougher. “You are worth more than a closed mouth and a check he probably signed while he was on a conference call.”
I swallowed hard. He was not wrong. That was the problem.
“I can’t break this,” I said, touching the papers. “You know how Ares is. He will not hesitate to make me disappear if he thinks I am a threat. I’m not stupid.”
Laurent set his glass down and studied me. “You think I begged to come here to tell you to run on Instagram and trash him? No, bella. I am not that sloppy.”
“Then what do you want?”
He easily changed the subject to something darker, which left me in disbelief. Laurent exhaled slowly, swirling the cognac in his glass.
“You know why he really cut everyone off this way, right?” he asked.
I looked up. “He said it was because of the fights,” I replied. “Because he needed to reset his name.”
Laurent shook his head. His tone shifted, too calm.
“That’s not the truth. Not the full truth anyway.”
“Then what is?”
Laurent leaned back in the chair, watching me with those pale eyes that never missed anything.
“Our grandfather is dying, and he’s forcing Ares into an arranged marriage before he dies. If Ares doesn’t do it, everything goes to me. You know he will never let that happen. He hates me.”
I froze.
“What?” I whispered.
He nodded once, slowly. “You heard me.”
I gripped the edge of the counter. “With who?”
“I do not know who the woman is,” he said. “But I do know the family.”
“Which family?” I asked.
Laurent’s mouth curved, a dark smile full of meaning.
“The only Black mafia family in California. The Laveaus.”
I blinked, stunned. “I never heard of them.”
“You’re not supposed to. Most of them go by fake last names,” he replied calmly. “They operate like a shadow dynasty. Money. Land. Political strings. They are quiet but powerful. And Marcel has been trying to align the Delacroix name with them for years.”
I swallowed hard. “So Ares… Ares is being forced into this?”
“Exactly. He didn’t cut you off because he wanted to. He did it because he had to.” Laurent tilted his head slightly. “Our grandfather wants him married. No girlfriends. No drama. A Roi’s wife cannot compete with five women on the side.”
I crossed my arms. “Who is the girl?”
He shrugged. “All I know is she is probably in the dark about her own bloodline. The Laveaus raise their heirs quietly and pull them in when they are grown. I would bet money she has no idea who she really is.”
“So she is innocent?” I muttered.
“Innocent enough,” he replied. “But that is not the point. The point is, he chose loyalty to my grandfather over loyalty to you.”
I frowned.
“He would have dropped you anyway, Bianca,” Laurent continued softly. “This marriage is the final nail.”
I stared down at the NDA again.
“So that is why he treated me like a business deal,” I whispered. “It was never about us at all.”
“No,” Laurent said. “It was about him staying in our grandfather’s will.”
Something inside me cracked open… rage, disappointment, humiliation all mixing until I could no longer tell them apart.
Laurent stepped closer.
“And you are still sitting here acting like you should be grateful.”
I looked away, blinking hard.
He slid a finger under my chin and made me look at him.
“You deserved more than this,” he said. “More than a quiet exit. More than being replaced by a girl who doesn’t even know her own legacy.”
His breath brushed my lips.
“You deserved revenge.”
“I am not trying to go to war with Ares.”
“Who said anything about war?” he whispered. “Sometimes all it takes is a crack in the armor to make a king bleed. You are that crack, Bianca. You always were. The first woman he trusted with more than his body. The only one who knows where the signatures do not match.”
He was feeding my ego on purpose. I knew it. I felt it. But it still worked.
“What do you want me to do exactly?” I asked.
“For now?” Laurent brushed a curl behind my ear. “Nothing loud. Nothing foolish. Just look over this NDA like it belongs to someone else and circle anything that feels off. Any phrase that can be twisted. Any word that can be used. Bring it to me. I will handle the rest.”
“And if there is nothing?”
“There is always something,” he said. “Men like Ares believe they are invincible. That is when they miss the small things that kill them.”
I shivered, and not from fear alone.
“This could blow back on me,” I whispered.
“I won’t let it,” Laurent said. “You forget who I am. I am still a Delacroix. Fully. My blood runs thicker in this family than his ever will. If Ares wants to come for you, he has to come through me.”
“That is what scares me,” I said.
He smiled slowly. “You will be fine, bella. You survived loving me. You survived loving him. You will survive taking what you deserve.”
He took my glass, set it aside, and slipped his hand into mine.
“Come sit down,” he murmured. “We can talk details after you relax.”
I let him lead me to the sofa, hating how familiar his touch felt.
Laurent moved in front of me slowly, like he had all the time in the world to ruin my life.
When he lowered himself onto his knees, it wasn’t the way a man begged; it was the way a man claimed something he believed already belonged to him.
“Laurent,” I warned.
“What?” His eyes glinted. “You look tense. Let me help you think.”
I swallowed, heat rising under my skin as he pulled up my silk night gown. He kissed the inside of my thighs, slow and deliberate.
His hands slid up my ass with that same old confidence I used to fall for, his palms warm, his fingers firm, tracing me like a memory he was picking back up.
I should have stopped him.
I should have stood up, walked away, done anything except sit there and let him pull me under.
But when I looked down and met those green, smug, deadly eyes… I froze.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate. “Let me take care of you.”
He said it the same way he used to when we were together, before I learned how dangerous softness really was.
My breath hitched when he pushed my knees apart further.
“Laurent…” My voice came out thinner than I wanted. “Don’t do this.”
He smirked, brushing his lips just close enough to make me shiver.
“Too late,” he whispered. “I’m already here.”
The heat of his breath rolled over my skin, and my head fell back against the couch on instinct as his middle finger slid slowly inside of me. My fingers curled into the cushions. My knees trembled even though I hated myself for letting them.
“Your body remembers me,” he said softly. “Even when you pretend you don’t.”
I swallowed hard.
I should’ve pushed him away.
I should’ve said no.
But instead…
I let him dive into my pussy, letting his tongue relieve all the stress in me.
A sharp gasp escaped my mouth before I could bite it back. My hips jerked, betraying me, feeding his ego exactly the way he wanted.
He chuckled against me. A sinful sound that made my stomach twist.
“See?” Laurent murmured. “Still tastes like mine.”
I grabbed his shoulder, either to steady him or push him away. I couldn’t even tell which anymore.
“Laurent… stop,” I said again, but my voice had no conviction.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, his mouth brushing me again, slow, taunting. “Say the words, and I’ll walk out.”
I couldn’t.
Because it wasn’t true.
And he knew it.
My thighs tightened around him, instinct winning over logic.
“Thought so,” he whispered.
And he went back to eating my pussy like his life depended on it, and it probably did.
My breathing came fast and uneven. Every part of me rebelled against how good it felt. How dangerous it felt. How wrong it was.
I wasn’t supposed to want him.
Not now.
Not like this.
Not when Ares still had his fingerprints all over my heart.
But Laurent’s mouth…
His hands…
His voice…
He knew exactly how to unravel me.
“Bianca,” he murmured against my skin, voice rich and dark, “you let him make you forget who you are. Let me remind you.”
A low moan slipped out of me. It was humiliating, involuntary.
I gripped his hair, my back arching.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
He hummed like he was satisfied with himself, like he had proven a point.
Heat pooled in my stomach in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time — not like this, not with this mix of danger and desire and history clawing at my chest.
“Look at me,” he said quietly.
I forced my eyes open, breath trembling.
He stared up at me from between my thighs, lips glistening, eyes deadly and determined.
“You deserve more than what he gave you,” he said. “You deserve devotion. You deserve vengeance. And you deserve someone who knows how to make you forget him.”
His mouth returned to me before I could respond, wrecking what was left of my self-control.
My head hit the back of the couch, a broken sound leaving my throat.
His grip tightened on my hips, pulling me closer, dragging me exactly where he wanted me.
His voice came out rough, hungry.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go.”
And I did.
I hated myself for it.
But I did.
When it finally ended, Laurent rose to his feet slowly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine.
“There is more where that came from,” he said softly. “Pleasure. Power. Protection. Ares can’t give you any of that now.”
I could still feel him on me.
Still taste stupidity in the back of my throat.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against my cheek without kissing me.
“Remember this,” he whispered. “Because the next time Ares thinks he owns something… I’ll be taking it.”
My pulse fluttered violently.
This was a mistake.
A big one.
The kind that could ruin me.
But my body was still trembling.
And my heart was still beating too fast.
And all I could think was—
What the hell did I just let myself get pulled into?