Chapter Twelve
Allegra
I approached the Palais de Justic e, its neoclassical facade a stark reminder of the gravity of today’s proceedings. I took a deep breath, smoothing down my navy-blue skirt and straightening my posture. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of freshly baked croissants from a nearby café, but I barely noticed it. My mind was focused on one thing: ensuring Tomas faced justice for his crimes.
As I climbed the weathered stone steps, I couldn’t help but reflect on how I’d ended up here. Months ago, I was just a physical therapist, living a quiet life in Paris. Now, I was embroiled in a world of danger, intrigue, and legal proceedings that felt utterly foreign to me. And it all stemmed from my ill-fated relationship with Tomas and my subsequent entanglement with Cooper Moreau.
I pushed through the heavy wooden doors, immediately enveloped by the hushed atmosphere of the courthouse. The interior was a study in contrasts—ornate Belle époque architecture with its high ceilings and elaborate moldings, now sharing space with modern security equipment. Groups of avocats in their distinctive black robes and white rabats moved purposefully through the corridors, their presence lending gravity to the space.
After passing through the security checkpoint at the main entrance, I made my way through the echoing marble corridors, my heels clicking against the floor. Today’s hearing was part of the instruction process—a closed proceeding where the juge d’instruction would review the evidence against Tomas. My lawyer had assured me my presence was required for this particular session, though most of these proceedings happened behind closed doors.
My avocat , Ma?tre Mercier, waited for me near the designated chamber, her black robe marking her as part of this world of law and justice. She briefed me in hushed tones about what to expect. “Remember,” she said carefully, “the juge d’instruction is investigating the truth, not judging guilt. Answer only what is asked, directly and clearly. This is not yet the trial—it is part of the inquiry.”
The chamber where the hearing would take place was nothing like what movies had led me to expect. Instead of a traditional courtroom, it was a formal office-like room dominated by a large, imposing desk where the juge d’instruction would sit. A few chairs were arranged before it, and a clerk’s desk sat to one side. The atmosphere was intimate, almost claustrophobic.
That’s when I saw him.
My heart leapt into my throat as I spotted a familiar profile in the corridor outside. Cooper. What was he doing here? I felt a surge of conflicting emotions—relief at seeing a familiar face, anger at him for getting shot, and a confusing flutter of attraction that I couldn’t quite squash. But before I could process his presence, Ma?tre Mercier ushered me into the chamber.
The juge d’instruction , a stern-looking woman in her fifties wearing the traditional black robes with white rabat , sat behind her desk. Her presence commanded immediate respect. A greffier sat ready to transcribe everything. The proceedings would be conducted entirely in French, with my lawyer there to assist if I needed clarification.
Tomas was brought in separately with his own avocat , and I forced myself to keep my eyes forward. From my peripheral vision, I could see how different he looked—haggard and resentful in his detention-issued clothing. The hatred emanating from him was palpable, but I squared my shoulders, refusing to be intimidated.
The hearing progressed with methodical precision. The juge d’instruction reviewed evidence, asked pointed questions, and made notes while the greffier recorded everything. Tomas’s lawyer argued for dismissal, citing procedural errors, but the prosecutor, standing at a small podium, countered with a detailed presentation of evidence—eyewitness accounts, physical evidence, and financial records that hinted at deeper criminal involvement.
The formality of the proceedings, conducted entirely in rapid-fire French, felt somehow both reassuring and surreal. This wasn’t the dramatic courtroom scene I’d imagined—instead, it was something more measured, more focused on uncovering truth than creating a spectacle.
After what felt like hours, the session concluded. The juge d’instruction informed us that she would review all the evidence presented and that her decision regarding whether to send the case to trial would be communicated formally within the week. It wasn’t the immediate resolution I’d hoped for, but Ma?tre Mercier assured me this was normal—even expected .
As we left the chamber, I searched the corridor for Cooper, but he had vanished. Had he really been there, or had my stressed mind conjured him up? And if he was there, why? The questions swirled in my mind as I made my way back through the grand corridors of the Palais de Justice , the weight of the morning’s proceedings heavy on my shoulders.
One thing was certain: whatever the juge d’instruction decided, this was far from over. And somehow, I knew Cooper’s presence today wasn’t a coincidence. In this world of careful legal procedure and ancient tradition, something else was playing out—something that went far beyond a simple criminal case.
As the courtroom began to empty, I saw Cooper in the back, but he seemed to be ignoring me.
I couldn’t believe that we’d…fooled around and now he pretended not to know me. Rage came over me, at both Cooper and my own stupidity. He was a player. He got an orgasm from me and now he was done with me. I should have seen it coming. Men weren’t to be trusted. I knew I’d told him we didn’t have a future, but to ignore me completely? It hurt more than I wanted to admit.
I caught up to him in the hallway outside the courtroom. Without thinking, I grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face me.
“What the hell?” I hissed, hardly mindful of the other people milling about. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here? And why are you ignoring me, especially after what happened between us—?”
He blinked at me, confusion evident on his face. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
His voice was different—softer, less confident than I was used to hearing from Cooper. There were no flirtatious undertones, no hint of quiet amusement.
“Don’t play games with me, Cooper,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of your secrets and lies. First, you get me involved in your dangerous world, and now you ignore me? I know we said it was a one time thing, but to pretend you don’t even know me—”
Shock transformed his features. “Miss, I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”
But I was too worked up to listen. My intense fear from last week, frustration, and confusion boiled over. Before I could stop myself, my hand connected with his cheek in a resounding slap.
The sharp crack echoed in the hallway, drawing startled looks from passersby. For a moment, we both stood there, frozen in shock. Then, rubbing his reddening cheek, he spoke again.
“I’m not Cooper,” he said softly. “I’m his twin brother, Colton.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I stared at him, really looking this time, and suddenly the differences were glaringly obvious. The softer set of his jaw, the less muscular build, the gentler demeanor. This wasn’t Cooper at all.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, horror and embarrassment flooding through me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t...I mean, I thought...”
Colton’s expression softened, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken for my brother, and surprisingly enough, this isn’t the first time I’ve been slapped for it, either.”
I covered my face with my hands, mortified. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I did that. Are you okay?”
He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm given the circumstances. “I’m fine. You’ve got quite an arm on you, though. I can see why my brother likes you.”
I lowered my hands, surprised. “Cooper talks about me?”
Colton’s smile widened. “Not specifically. But Steele mentioned…I knew there had to be someone…But maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere more private? I could use a coffee, and I have a feeling you might have some questions.”
Still reeling from my mistake and the rush of new information, I nodded. “Coffee sounds good. I think I owe you at least that much after...well, you know.”
We made our way out of the courthouse and down the street to a small café. The place was cozy and quiet, with worn leather armchairs and the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filling the air. We settled into a corner table, orders placed, an awkward silence falling between us.
“So,” Colton said, breaking the ice, “I gather things have been a bit tumultuous between you and my brother?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. Cooper, he’s...he’s not who I thought he was. Or maybe he is, and I just didn’t want to see it. I don’t know anymore.”
Colton nodded thoughtfully. “Cooper has that effect on people. He’s always been good at showing people what they want to see. But there’s more to him than that.”
Our cappuccinos arrived, and I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, grateful for something to do. “Can I ask you something, Colton? What’s he really like? The real Cooper, I mean. I’m not sure what’s real and what’s an act.”
Colton took a sip of his coffee, considering. “The real Cooper? That’s a complicated question. He’s...he’s a good guy, at his core. Loyal, protective, smarter than he lets on. But he’s also reckless, prone to taking unnecessary risks. He has a tendency to overreach, to push boundaries just to see if he can.”
I nodded, thinking back to the glimpses I’d gotten of Cooper’s world. “That tracks with what I’ve seen. But how did he get involved in...you know, his current line of work?” I asked the question carefully, hoping that Colton would slip and let me know just exactly how deep Cooper was involved in the underworld.
Colton’s expression turned serious. “That’s a long story, and not really mine to tell. But I can say this—Cooper didn’t start out looking for this life. Circumstances pushed him into it, and once he was in, well...he found he had a talent for it.”
“A talent for theft and smuggling?” I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice.
Colton winced. “I know how it sounds. Believe me, I’ve had my share of arguments with Cooper about his choices. But it’s not as black and white as you might think. He’s done a lot of good, too, even if his methods are...unconventional.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Good?” I had a hard time believing that any type of unlawful activity could be good. I had seen this kind of lifestyle first-hand from my father, and it was something I definitely didn’t want in my own life .
Colton leaned towards me and lowered his voice. “Cooper’s network, his connections—he’s used them to help people, too. Refugees who needed safe passage, whistleblowers exposing corruption, even sometimes finding women and children who have been trafficked. It’s not all guns and violence.”
I sat back, processing this new information. It explained Tomas’s arrest and subsequent conviction. But it didn’t erase the danger, the illegality of Cooper’s actions, but it did paint a more complex picture. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Colton’s eyes met mine. “Because I think you’re good for him, Allegra. I think...I think he genuinely cares for you. More than he has for anyone in a long time.”
I felt a flush creep up my neck at his words. “He’s just my patient,” I admitted softly. “And I don’t know if I can handle his world. The danger, the secrecy...it’s a lot. I don’t think I could be a part of it, even just as his friend.”
Colton nodded understandingly. “It is. And I won’t sugarcoat it—being around Cooper comes with risks. But I’ve seen some…hints that make me think you might be good for him. That’s not something I’ve seen from him before. He’s…questioning things.”
The revelation shocked me, and I realized that my feelings towards Cooper weren’t one-sided. As much as I liked to tell myself he was just a patient, I’d already let him in. I cared for him in a way that I’d never directly cared for a patient before. I’d crossed a line, yet it was invisible until I looked back and realized I’d passed it. It was a connection that transcended the passionate quickie we’d had in my kitchen, something more than a one-night stand.
My conversation with Colton lapsed into silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I stirred my coffee absently, watching the swirls of cream disappearing into the dark liquid. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course,” Colton said.
“Why were you at the hearing today? Do you know Tomas?”
Colton shook his head. “No, I don’t know him personally. I’m studying law, and I try to observe as many different types of cases as I can. It’s good experience. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also there to keep an eye on things for Cooper. He has a…personal interest in Tomas’s case.”
I felt a mix of frustration and warmth, along with a pang in my heart as I realized the full extent of Cooper’s interference. “I can’t believe he did that for me.”
Colton was clever, and he knew that I’d figured out the real reason for Cooper’s concern with Tomas. “You know Cooper,” Colton said with a wry smile. “He’s not always great at communicating. Especially when it comes to feelings.”
Feelings. The words seemed to hang in the air, and their presence seemed to both taunt and haunt me, a reminder of the ethical conundrum I’d placed myself in. I was silent for a few seconds, contemplating what and where I had gone wrong where Cooper Moreau was concerned.
Colton and I finished our coffees, the conversation drifting to lighter topics. Colton told me about his law studies, and I found myself sharing stories about my work as a physical therapist. It was nice, talking to someone connected to Cooper’s world but not fully immersed in it.
As we prepared to leave, Colton hesitated. “Allegra, can I give you some advice?”
I nodded, curious.
“Don’t give up on Cooper just yet. He’s made mistakes, gotten into some dark things. But...he’s redeemable. And if anyone can help him find a better path, I think it’s you.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, Colton. Plus, I have my career to consider.”
He smiled, a gentle, encouraging expression. “I think you’re stronger than you realize. Just...give him a chance. To show you who he really is, not just who he thinks he needs to be.”
As we parted ways outside the café, I found myself mulling over Colton’s words. The anger I’d felt earlier had faded, replaced by a complicated mix of emotions. Confusion, apprehension, but also a glimmer of hope.
I started walking home, my mind racing. The bustling streets of Paris passed by in a blur as I replayed the conversation with Colton. Cooper cared about me. He managed to do some good for the world even though he was a criminal. But was that enough? Could I reconcile the Cooper I’d come to care for with the dangerous world he inhabited?
I entered my apartment, dropping my keys on the side table and sinking onto the couch. Part of me wanted to track down Cooper’s number and call him immediately, to demand answers and explanations. But Colton’s words urged caution, and I knew I needed time to process everything I’d learned today—about Tomas, about Cooper, about myself.
Standing by my window, I looked out onto the streets of Paris. The city that had once felt so familiar now seemed full of hidden depths and secret worlds. And somewhere out there was Cooper, a man as complex and mysterious as Paris itself.