Chapter 59
Ares
WEEKS LATER… BACK IN FRANCE
“I Like Ownership”
Marseille moved like Compton at night. Less polished than Monaco and Paris. More honest. The Delacroix Steakhouse sat on the corner. It was mine now.
Marcel gave it to me.
Renovations were halfway done. Marble floors torn up, gold fixtures being replaced, the bar stripped down to the bones. My team had been in here all week, turning it into something that matched my name.
I stepped through the back entrance, Tommy a step behind me. The workers cleared out once they saw me. Respect. Fear. Same thing in rooms like this.
The private lounge in the back was still intact.
Low lighting.
Dark wood.
Leather chairs.
Untouched.
That’s where I wanted to meet him.
Laurent was already sitting when I walked in.
Of course he was.
Leg crossed, drink in hand.
I didn’t greet him.
Just walked past him, took my time looking around the room like he wasn’t even worth my attention.
I finally sat across from him and poured myself a drink before I spoke.
“Place gonna look different in a few weeks,” I said, glancing around. “Real different.”
Laurent smirked slightly. “You always liked shiny things.”
I took a sip.
“I like ownership.”
That wiped the smirk down a little.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes finally settling on him.
“You know, once Marcel dies…”
I let that sit.
“Your access to his money cuts off.”
Laurent frowned just enough for me to catch it.
I continued like I was just talking business.
“You gon’ have to come to me for money.”
I added, calm as ever:
“Maybe I can get you a cook job in here. You know you were always good at it. But you wanted to be a street nigga like me.”
Tommy shifted slightly behind me, trying not to react.
“Since you don’t do anything else but be in my business.”
Laurent let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t real.
“You always had jokes,” he said.
I shrugged.
“I always had power.”
I leaned forward slightly and got straight to it.
“You put money on my head?”
He looked at me and smirked.
“If I wanted you dead…” he said slowly, setting his glass down, “…you wouldn’t be asking me that question.”
We held eye contact.
He was lying.
But not completely.
That’s what made it interesting.
I leaned back again. “Mm.”
I tapped my glass lightly against the table.
“You got too much confidence for somebody that doesn’t own anything.”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“I own more than you think.”
I tilted my head.
“Yeah? You’re not the only one building something.”
I almost smiled.
“You got more enemies than you think,” he added.
I let out a chuckle. “I know, and you’re trying to gather them up.”
I stood up slowly. I wasn’t going to kill him. This wasn’t that kind of meeting.
I adjusted my jacket, looking down at him. I already knew how this was going to end.
“If I find out it was you… I won’t miss.”
Laurent didn’t respond.
We both understood.
“Now get out of my establishment if you ain’t filling out a job application.”
I turned and walked out.
Tommy followed behind me.
The restaurant lights flickered slightly as we stepped back into the hallway, the sound of construction echoing faintly in the distance.
My name going on everything.
And somewhere in the middle of all that—
A war was building.
And it wasn’t just with Laurent.
$$$$$
That same night…
I was in my head on the drive from the restaurant to Marcel’s estate.
My mind was running through everything Laurent didn’t say.
Because that’s where the truth always lived.
In what a man avoids.
By the time I pulled up, the house was still.
That kind of quiet only came when death was already inside, waiting its turn.
I stepped out, took a deep breath, and walked in.
Truth be told, seeing Marcel on his deathbed was unsettling.
I had known him to be the strongest man next to my father.
Even after the stories, and him not taking care of his own list, I still respected him, and watching him die did something to me.
But I kept those feelings to myself. He was leaving me a job, and I had to be strong enough to sit on the throne.
The staff barely looked at me. Everybody in his house already knew what time it was.
Marcel was dying.
And when he died…
Everything shifted to my rules.
His room smelled like medicine with machines humming low.
Oxygen being fed to him through a mask.
He was weak.
But not gone yet.
My mother wasn’t in the room.
Good.
This was a conversation I needed to have without her.
I walked in, stopping at the side of the bed.
Marcel’s eyes opened after a moment.
Heavy.
Tired.
But still sharp enough to recognize me.
“Ares…” he said, voice rough as he took off his mask.
I nodded once. “I need to talk to you.”
He didn’t respond right away.
Just looked at me like he already knew it wasn’t small.
I didn’t waste time.
“I need permission to kill Laurent. He put a hit out on me.”
Marcel’s breathing shifted.
He reached up weakly and grabbed my hand.
“If he is out to get you, yes. That boy has always been jealous of you when he could be standing next to you.”
I studied him for a second, making sure he meant it.
He did.
“I started the list,” I added. “Sir was first.”
A flicker passed through his eyes.
“My brother…” Marcel said slowly, his voice thin but steady. “…has done evil in this world. I always told him… he had it coming.”
He shifted slightly in the bed, like even speaking was taking something out of him.
“Hold this family down,” he said. “Run it with an iron fist.”
I nodded. “I will.”
His eyes stayed on me. “And don’t let people with our last name manipulate you… just because they’re blood.”
That hit different.
Because I already knew exactly who he was talking about.
“I won’t,” I promised.
He studied me one more time, his expression shifted slightly.
Softer.
“Your mother… She’s stronger than you think,” he continued. “More tactical than you’ll ever know.”
That didn’t surprise me.
Not even a little.
“She hates me,” he added.
That part…
I didn’t fully agree with.
“She doesn’t hate you,” I assured him.
Marcel looked at me and gave a faint, almost tired smile.
“Trust me… She does.”
His eyes started to close.
Not gone.
Just… shutting down.
Tired.
“I left her everything… with you,” he murmured.
I reached over, lifting the oxygen mask back into place.
Watched his chest rise.
Fall.
Still alive.
But not for long.
I didn’t say anything else.
There was nothing else to say.
I turned and walked out.
By the time I got back to my estate in Monaco, the city had settled into that late-night calm.
Yuna and Emily were already asleep.
I could tell without even going into their bedroom.
The space felt still in that soft way it only did when Yuna was actually resting.
As I walked by the room, I started thinking about how we hadn’t been the same for the last couple of weeks.
Not bad.
Just… distant.
Less physical.
Less intense.
I’d been working.
Moving.
Handling shit for my new seat at the table.
And I gave her space.
She needed it.
Needed Emily and Lil Zay.
Needed that soft energy around her that wasn’t built on control and blood.
I understood that.
If she wanted me…
She knew where I was in the house.
I stepped into my living suite instead.
Stripped down.
Shower running hot.
Let the water hit my shoulders, my neck, washing off the night, the conversations, the weight of what was coming. But Yuna stayed right there in my head.
“If she wants to be in my bed…”
I muttered low.
“…she will.”