Chapter 46
Ares
LATER THAT NIGHT…
“This Night Belonged To Me”
The restaurant sat tucked into a small street.
Candlelight. Soft music. The kind of place where people spoke low and slow, and nobody rushed anything.
I sat across from Yuna at a small table near the window.
She wore a white veil tonight.
Light and elegant, draped over her face just enough to hide her identity in public.
I respected the veil.
If she didn’t want the world seeing her yet, the world didn’t get to.
But the rest of her…
Her dress.
Her diamonds.
Her high ass heels.
She looked rich.
Dangerously so.
The waiter approached, and I ordered in French before she even touched the menu.
Steak for me.
Grilled chicken and roasted potatoes for her. Sparkling apple cider.
The waiter nodded and disappeared.
Yuna leaned back in her chair.
“You always order for people?”
I shrugged.
“Only when they take too long. You looked at that menu upside down.”
She picked up the glass of sparkling cider when it arrived and took a slow sip.
“It wasn’t upside down. You’re controlling.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“Efficient.”
My hand rested on her leg.
Then slid lightly up her inner thigh.
She paused mid-sip.
Didn’t stop me, though.
“You see?” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
I leaned closer so only she could hear me.
“You complaining?”
Her lips curled slightly behind the veil. “Not yet.”
Dinner arrived a few minutes later.
She ate, still watching me like she was trying to read something deeper behind my eyes.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
I didn’t answer right away.
Just cut my steak calmly before I looked up at her.
“Because you’re mine now.”
My words weren’t threatening, just a matter of fact.
She studied me for a moment longer and shook her head slightly.
Dinner stretched into quiet conversation and small touches. Close to two hours later, I was paying the tab.
Eventually, we stepped back outside into the Paris night.
The air felt cooler now, so I wrapped my jacket around her.
We walked the old streets slowly, the city buzzing softly around us while music drifted from nearby bars.
For a moment, it felt like we were just two people on vacation.
Not two people standing in the middle of something much bigger.
I checked my watch when we stopped to get coffee.
10:25 PM.
I glanced behind us toward Tommy.
He understood immediately, pulled out his phone, and stepped away.
I looked at Yuna.
“We’re going back to Monaco tomorrow by train.”
She nodded easily. “Okay.”
She looked around the street once more.
“It was a short time… but I enjoyed Paris.”
“We’ll come back.”
She looked up at me. “You promise?”
“Yeah.”
Right then, a black Rolls-Royce truck pulled up along the curb.
I stepped closer and kissed her.
Slow.
Soft.
But deep.
The kind of kiss that made people walking past glance twice.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I told her.
Her hand rested lightly against my chest. “Where are you going?”
“Business again.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You know… if I’m going to be some kind of mafia wife, I’m going to have to come on business with you.”
I smirked. “I’ll let you know when it’s time for you to go to war with me.”
I opened the door for her.
She climbed inside without another word.
The Rolls pulled away slowly down the Paris street.
I stood there watching the taillights disappear.
A second Rolls-Royce truck pulled up beside me.
The back door opened.
I stepped inside.
And the night moved forward.
$$$$$
The city changed once we left downtown Paris.
Paris at night could look soft and romantic from a distance, but the further you drove from the crowded streets, the older it felt. The buildings grew darker, the roads quieter. History sat heavy in places like this.
The truck slowed in front of the cathedral.
Delacroix Cathedral.
Stone walls older than most countries. Tall gothic arches that stretched into the sky.
Tonight it was empty.
Or at least it looked that way.
The truck rolled to a stop along the curb. Tommy stepped out first, scanning the area while the other men moved quietly into position around the entrance.
I stepped out last.
Tommy nodded toward the side door.
“They’re inside.”
The church doors creaked when we pushed inside.
Candlelight flickered through the massive room, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
And right in the center of the altar…
Sir Delacroix.
Tied to a wooden cross that had been pulled down from the wall.
His white priest robes hung crookedly now, his head lowered, his hands secured tightly.
Beside him…
His wife.
Bound the same way.
The old man lifted his head slowly when he heard my footsteps echo through the cathedral.
Recognition hit his eyes immediately.
“Ares…” His voice trembled slightly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I walked slowly down the aisle.
The place where people usually prayed.
Confess.
Beg forgiveness.
Tonight it belonged to me.
“You know why I’m here, Uncle Sir,” I said calmly.
His wife shook her head quickly. “You have the wrong idea—”
Tommy dropped a small folder onto the altar table.
Photos slid across the surface.
Documents.
Names.
Dates.
My uncle’s eyes fell to the evidence, and the silence that followed said everything.
“You had decades,” I said quietly.
His breathing grew heavier. “This isn’t what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think.” My voice stayed cold.
I gestured around the cathedral. “You hid behind the Delacroix name. You hid behind this church. You hid behind God.”
His wife started crying. “You don’t understand. I never knew—”
I cut her off. “Silence is participation.”
Sir swallowed hard.
“You cannot judge me,” he said, trying to find strength in the words. “Only God—”
“God had decades,” I interrupted.
Sir’s shoulders dropped slightly. The power he carried as a priest meant nothing here.
“You had thirty-two victims,” I continued. “I counted.”
His eyes closed. That was confession enough.
I stepped closer. “You built a life behind lies,” I said. “And nobody ever stopped you.”
I pulled the suppressed pistol from my jacket slowly. Sir’s head lifted again.
“You think this will bring justice?” he whispered.
“No.” I raised the weapon. “It brings an ending to the past so I can build the future Delacroix family.”
The shot echoed through the cathedral.
One clean sound, and another.
Bodies went still.
Tommy stepped forward quietly, already moving to clean the scene the way professionals did.
I lowered the gun.
The cathedral was dead now.
The same place where those boys once came for help.
Now holding the truth that they never got.
I turned toward the doors.
“Let’s go.”
Tommy followed behind me.
My mind was already moving forward.
One name crossed off the list.
Seven left.
Now, I had to see my mother…