Chapter 10 Luca #2
Eight years she’d been living this way? Sleeping with one eye open, looking over her shoulder every time she crossed the street, scared enough to jump into a car with a stranger when she was pursued.
“How?”
“Because I said so.”
She remained in disbelief. “How do you know they aren’t lying? How do you know—”
“I give you my word. I made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if they pursued this hit, they may as well make me a hit too, because I’d come for them with all the resources of the French Emperors and the President of the Senate.
They chose wisely. They will report that they shot you in the shower and stuffed your body in an oil drum before they shipped it overseas. It’s done.”
She’d been sitting upright, perfectly straight, but she suddenly sank into the cushions of the couch.
Her legs crossed, and her elbow propped on the armrest, her fingers moving over her mouth as if she were silencing a quiet gasp.
Her eyes were elsewhere but unfocused, as if the invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she didn’t know what to do.
She just sat there, staring at nothing, her beautiful face pale like I’d given her bad news rather than good news. Then her eyes started to mist, the reflection of the light more potent in the reflection. Her fingers immediately curled over her lips to hide their tremble.
I would normally look away, deeply uncomfortable by a crying woman, but my eyes never left her face.
She suddenly took a deep breath and sucked in all of her emotion with it.
Brought herself back to calm. Put the bubbling champagne back in the bottle and recorked it.
This was the moment when she would normally thank me, but for some reason, she didn’t.
“I guess I can leave now…” After she had her moment, she composed herself, her neck straight like her spine, and looked at me once more.
“There’s no rush.” I should kick her out of my space because she wasn’t my responsibility, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.
I should want her out of my life because she’d been nothing but baggage to me, only a nuisance, but as I sat there and watched all the different emotions flood her face at once, I was fucking transfixed.
I’d never seen a woman conquer her emotions by sheer will alone.
Never seen a woman so vulnerable and so strong at the same time.
It was like a play at the opera house, a maestro of the stage giving the greatest performance of her career.
The performance was a production, but the emotions were real.
“I’ve taken enough of your hospitality.” Her eyes swept over the room like her belongings were strewn everywhere, when she only had some clothes that Andre had provided her.
Or perhaps she was saying goodbye to the space she’d occupied for such a brief time.
“I’ll collect my things.” She made good on her word and immediately started, grabbing her laptop from the coffee table and stowing it in the protective sleeve.
Then she stood up and stepped away from the sitting room, getting to work like I’d demanded her to leave this very moment.
It took her less than five minutes to stow everything in the two bags she’d arrived with. She only had clothes and her toiletries from the bathroom. A strap was over each shoulder, and she looked around the room one last time before she turned to me.
I was still seated in the armchair, the sunlight from the open windows reaching all the way to my chest. I moved to her and grabbed both of the straps from her shoulders.
Her eyes softened slightly. “You don’t have to do that.”
I turned to the door and stepped into the hallway.
“And you don’t seem like the kind of guy that does.”
I faced the elevator but stopped, unsure if I should refute those words or embrace them. Instead, I chose silence, walked to the double doors, and pressed the button. We got in together, and a moment later, we were at the ground floor, the entrance to my villa the renovated lobby of a former hotel.
Andre was already there because he was electronically notified when the elevator was in use. “A driver is ready for you, sir.” He moved to take the bags from my shoulders.
“I’ve got it, Andre.”
“Of course, sir.” He immediately stepped back and moved to another part of the house.
I stepped outside just as the blacked-out SUV was parked at the curb, retrieved from the underground garage where I kept my personal vehicles as well as those my drivers used. One of the guys came out and took the bags from me, and he put them in the back of the SUV.
Aliénor stared at the SUV unnecessarily long, like she didn’t want to face me. She crossed her arms over her chest like she was cold, wearing jeans and a thin long-sleeved shirt. She finally found the strength to look at me, and her eyes were soft and vulnerable and emotional…a spectrum of it all.
“I don’t believe in fate. Meant to be. But now…I don’t know. Something tells me I was meant to hop into your car that night. That you’re the answer to my prayers. Or karma… I don’t know.”
I didn’t believe in any of that. “You were in the right place at the right time.”
“And with the right person.” The engine from the SUV ran beside us, and the exhaust had a scent.
The armed guys kept their distance and did their best to look at anything but us.
But I wasn’t aware of any of that, only her, the way her eyes told a story without words.
“You’ll never understand what you’ve done for me. I just got my life back.”
“What will you do with it?”
“I don’t know yet. I never planned for the future when tomorrow has never been promised. The present was barely promised.” She looked away again. “But I’ll figure it out.” She moved into me, and instead of kissing me, she rose on her tiptoes, hooked her arms around my neck—and hugged me.
My arms immediately engulfed her like it was second nature. My chin moved to the top of her head like I hugged someone every day, when I never hugged anyone at all. She rested her forehead against my chest, and even though our eyes didn’t meet, it felt more intimate than all the fucking we did.
She lingered.
I let her.
She eventually pulled away, and her eyes lifted to mine.
My hands remained around her waist, my hands gentle on her hips.
She held my stare with vulnerability, like there was so much she could say but chose not to. Then she moved into me again and kissed me. Not a passionate kiss as we’d oftentimes shared, but a simple one, gentle and soft, full of something different from lust.
Affection.
She planted her hand on my chest as she pulled away.
“Thank you for everything.” She turned quickly, like she wanted to break the connection between our stares as soon as possible.
To rip off the bandage from a wound that shouldn’t hurt.
One of the guys opened the back door for her, and she hopped inside before they shut it behind her.
The windows were tinted black and bulletproof, so I couldn’t see her.
But I stared as if I could.