9. Bastien
9
BASTIEN
I went to Basilique Sainte-Clotilde, a church that had been standing since the seventeen hundreds. But I didn’t walk through the front door. Instead, I took the back entrance, all the way next to the Seine, and took the underground passage, past the homeless and the amateur drug dealers pushing low-grade products idiots were stupid enough or broke enough to buy.
I walked down the dark tunnel and made my way to the church, based solely on memory, sidestepping the rats that scurried from their corners. Sometimes I spotted human bones down here, but I walked right past.
I took a set of stairs deeper underground and then a couple of tunnels before I reached a large room with double doors that were twenty feet in height. They’d clearly been installed from above because there was no way to get something so large into these caverns. Given the color of the stones and how it was dimly lit by the sconces high on the wall at the top of the stairs, they obviously marked the entrance to something important.
There were no guards on patrol, probably not to draw attention to what was on the other side. The caverns from the Seine and the Catacombs that stretched underneath the streets were practically a city of their own, with their own laws and regulations for those who lived there. The police didn’t follow criminals into the depths, so it was essentially a lawless land. Only those who were brave—or stupid—came down here.
At the bottom of the stairs, I grabbed the copper knocker and clapped it against the door, a knock that reverberated on the other side. I stepped back and waited for the doors to open or a panel to slide apart.
A section of the door came away, and a pair of eyes looked into mine.
“The Butcher.”
He verified my identity instantly and then opened one of the doors to let me pass. He was dressed in all black and held a rifle, security armed at the perimeter.
When I stepped inside, I saw the other guard. They didn’t normally pat me down and check for weapons, but this time, they did. But they didn’t find anything because I’d come unarmed. They didn’t say a word to me, but hostility was present.
They escorted me across the room to another set of double doors. They opened one and let me pass into the underground cathedral that the Aristocrats had claimed for themselves. It looked like the church up above, rows of seats on a red rug that faced a large organ and a dais, like they offered sacrifices. In the next room was their grand storage of collectibles, ancient paintings, and sculptures that they deemed belonged to the French Republic and no one else. It was safer underground, where it couldn’t be touched by fire or the sun. As long as the Seine didn’t have an apocalyptic flood, everything would remain untouched.
I found it ironic that they hoarded all these cultural masterpieces to themselves, when they weren’t even on display because they had so much shit to store. It looked more like a treasure room in an enormous vault. The French Republic couldn’t enjoy it because it was stashed underground in a place no one knew existed.
I stepped inside and looked at the paintings leaned against one another, the golden goblets, and the old coins. Centuries of art and artifacts all packed together without rhyme or reason.
Now that Oscar was gone, another had replaced him, and he stepped toward me in his gold robe and matching hat, looking like a goddamn idiot. I recognized him as Marcus, one of the other members of the Aristocrats and clearly Oscar’s replacement. I was unarmed, so he didn’t seem concerned about arming himself. They claimed to be a peaceful religious group, but they killed anyone who didn’t give them the answer they wanted and didn’t worship any god, so they didn’t seem religious to me.
Marcus stopped several feet away from me and stared me down. “How dare you come here?” He spoke quietly, but his voice still echoed off the walls. His anger was conveyed in his restraint, the long sleeves of his robe touching the floor.
“You killed my woman.”
“She lived?—”
“ After she died . You buried her in a coffin, and she drowned in the rain.” I kept my voice level, but I was about to explode in rage. “The law of the Fifth Republic has been clear since I became the Butcher. You violated the law when you took an innocent woman as collateral. Be grateful that I only hold Oscar accountable for that and not the rest of you.”
He held on to my words with absolute stillness, his anger packed behind his eyes.
“You will receive no apology from me. I would burn Oscar from Notre-Dame again if I could because one death wasn’t enough for what he did to my woman.”
The back doors opened, and more of the Aristocrats joined us, wearing their robes like members of the clergy, when they were just a fanatical group of freaks. They came up behind Marcus and then stood at his side in a line.
Was that supposed to be intimidating?
Marcus spoke. “You’ve declared war upon us?—”
“You took my woman, and I retaliated. We’ve been allies for years, and I’d prefer to continue that instead of killing you all. I took my revenge against the man who killed my woman, and I’m prepared to move on if you can do the same. So, can you?”
Marcus didn’t need to confer with his disciples. They seemed to have already made up their minds, something I knew because of the information Godric had provided. But I kept that hand close to my chest and didn’t show my cards.
“Adrien has defied us for too long—and it’s time he’s paid the price.”
“Do what you want. That has nothing to do with me.”
“You intervened once.”
“I saved my girl. That’s all I cared about. Adrien isn’t my problem, so if you want to dump his body somewhere in the Catacombs so the cannibals can feast, then be my guest. I told him to yield to you on multiple occasions, and it’s not my fault he failed to listen.”
Marcus continued to observe me.
“I did not come to plead for that asshole’s life. I came here to resume our allyship. I hold no ill will toward you as a group, but if you give me a reason to, I will burn your church above ground and then demolish the vault that lies beneath.”
“Casting lies isn’t the best negotiation tactic.”
“It’s just a reminder that I will destroy you if you come for me—in case you forgot.”
Marcus turned to the man on his right, and their eyes met for a brief moment. It seemed like they wanted to discuss their next move aloud, but neither of them would speak in my presence. Marcus came back to me. “If you want peace, then you will not intervene when we come for Adrien.”
“I don’t moderate conflicts between the organizations. As long as you abide by the law, you’re free to do whatever you wish. Put his head on a spike on the Eiffel Tower for all I care.”
“And if you want peace, then you will make amends to us.”
“You came for my girl, and I came for Oscar. We’re even as far as I’m concerned.”
Marcus stepped forward. “You humiliated us on the world stage, and you know it. You made an example out of the Aristocrats and spat on our name. You burned one of our own alive—and not in privacy, but at one of our most cherished churches to be shown live on the news. It was barbaric?—”
“Burying an innocent woman alive with a camera on her is far more barbaric. I told you I would not apologize for what I did because I’m not sorry, and you bet your ass I would do it again. You speak like I’m the one who started this whole thing when I was the victim.”
“Oscar didn’t know that Fleur was your girlfriend.”
“Well, that was his mistake, and he paid for it. I’m not gonna let any man who touches her go free. Just accept it. So, are we going to make peace, or am I going to kill you all right here, right now? Because you know I’ll fucking do it.” I didn’t need a gun. I could break skulls under my boots and snap necks with my fingertips. There was lots of heavy shit around us. Lots of weapons to use.
Marcus stepped away. “Give us a moment to confer.”
“Sure. Take your fucking time.”
Marcus stepped away with his disciples, and they spoke in quiet voices, the content of their conversation inaudible to me.
Instead of looking at my phone or texting Luca, my eyes remained trained on them in case they tried something. There was obviously a disagreement because the discussion continued for more than a few minutes.
I gave an irritated sigh because I had shit to do.
Marcus eventually came back to me. “You say you won’t intervene on Adrien’s behalf.”
“Yes.”
“Then bring him to us, and all will be forgiven.”
A sarcastic smirk crept over my lips. “I already said I don’t manage the conflicts among organizations. That goes both ways. This is your dirty work—so you handle it.”
Marcus didn’t hide his disappointment. “He has the Eye of the Seine. The most prized relic of the French Republic. He must be stopped.”
“Then stop him,” I said. “My peace offering to you is this— peace . I should destroy all of you because you were aware of Oscar’s plan, but I’ve chosen to pardon your crimes. Do the same for me, or you’ll have two enemies to fight—both Adrien and me. What will you decide?”
Marcus didn’t need to confer with the others this time. Something about my words finally got through to him. “As long as you don’t intervene in our hit on Adrien, then we will have peace, Butcher.”
“Good,” I snapped. “We’ve both got shit to do, so let’s move on.”
“What’d they say?” Luca said when he picked up my call.
I walked out of the cavern with the phone pressed to my ear, the homeless and weirdos watching me walk by. None of them was stupid enough to cross me. “A lot of bullshit. But I got them to get over it.”
“And you believe them?”
“They know they don’t have a shot without the element of surprise.” I took the stairs to the next level and saw the Seine visible ahead, the lights reflecting off the dark water. “And even with the peace established, they know I’ll watch them for the next six months.”
“Sounds like Godric did you a favor, then.”
He did.
“Did you guys talk about anything else? Because it seems a little random that he gave you that information. Almost feels like a trap.”
I didn’t tell him, but I wasn’t sure why. “No, we didn’t.”
Luca didn’t press it. “At least that’s done.”
I made it to the surface and headed up the stairs to the street. “They are going after Adrien.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t done it already.”
“I must have been their focus,” I said. “They said I’m not to intervene.”
“To be fair, it’s not your problem.”
“I know it’s not.” But the guilt still gnawed at me like I’d done something wrong.
“I can tell it bothers you just by the sound of your voice.”
I stopped at the street, staring at the lampposts next to the Seine that stretched out into the distance. I was right across from the Louvre, the building bright in the light. Fleur’s old apartment was nearby. I wondered if they’d already found a new tenant to take her spot. “I’m not sure if I should tell her.”
“You know you’re going to.”
“I said I wouldn’t intervene.”
“Then hopefully she doesn’t ask you to.”
It was seven in the morning when I got home.
She was still asleep in one of my t-shirts, the blankets tugged all the way to her side of the bed because I wasn’t there to keep her warm. I stared at her for a long second before I changed into my workout clothes and hit the gym, doing my cardio first before I hit the weights hard.
I watched the sun rise in the reflection in the mirror on the wall, watching it burn through the open windows because they didn’t have curtains to block out the light. I preferred to work out at the start of my day rather than the end, but when I woke up, Fleur was eager to spend time with me, and it felt wrong to leave her just to get in some cardio. I was dead tired after being up all night, but it was better to do it now than try to fit it in later.
When I returned to my bedroom to shower, she was still asleep, but she’d turned the other way like she was slowly waking up to a new day. I showered and did a quick towel-dry before I returned to the bedroom.
She was awake, sitting up in bed with tired but rested eyes. Even when she was groggy and still slightly out of it, her features lit up at the sight of me. “Hey, babe.” She patted the bed beside her, wanting me to join her.
I got into the sheets beside her and pulled her close, hugging her in bed and kissing her, loving the way she looked when she first woke up. Her eyes were slightly wet from being closed all night, and she appeared so relaxed and calm. She cupped my jawline then my cheek before she kissed me. “How was your night?”
I didn’t want to ruin her morning when she’d just opened her eyes, so I kept the truth to myself. “Fine. Yours?”
“I was asleep the whole time, so it was great.”
I smiled.
“But it’s even better now that you’re home.” Her eyes softened in affection, the look she gave when she wore her heart on her sleeve, told me she loved me without saying a word. “I know you must be tired…but I missed you.” Her eyes moved down to my lips, like she wanted me to kiss her good and hard, to make her come at the start of her day.
“I’m never too tired for you, sweetheart.” I rolled on top of her and tugged down my boxers before I removed the little white thong she wore. I let her keep her shirt on before I moved between her soft thighs. Like she’d been thinking about me all night long, her channel was so slick and smooth. I moaned as I sank, moaned like it was the first time I’d ever had her, when we’d been doing this for months.
She was even more enthused than I was, her ankles locking together and squeezing the top of my ass like she already wanted more. She explored my arms with her hands, like she could feel the twitch of my muscles from my workout.
I was drunk on this pussy, so fucking addicted that if I tried to get sober, it would kill me. After a long night running a city from the shadows, I longed to bury myself deep in the most magical pussy I’d ever fucked. It turned this man into a teenage boy. Turned this sober man into an addict all over again. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
She gripped my arms as she moaned in my face. “I love you, Bastien.”
Those words sent a shiver down my spine. It was the dirtiest thing I’d ever heard a woman say. It was my fantasy, hearing this woman give herself to me completely. I’d hunted her and chased her, gotten her into my bed, my life, and then into my house. I wanted to make her my wife next. “I love you, Fleur.” I’d never told a woman I loved her, never thought I’d ever want to, but now that I had her, my heart started to beat differently, started to race whenever she was in the room, like I was always about to die…and I wanted to die.
When I woke up, it was four in the afternoon.
As always, my phone had blown up with calls and text messages during the night.
The double doors that led to the rest of the house were closed, and the light that should be visible at the bottom of them was absent, like Fleur had put down a towel to block it out so I could sleep in complete darkness.
I grabbed my phone and checked her location to see if she was in the house or out and about. I saw her dot in the house but not in the bedroom, so I zoomed in to see that she was in the kitchen, probably baking something.
I went through my other calls and texts to see if anything important was going on, and when I found there wasn’t, I got out of bed and started my day. I put on sweatpants and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. The building was three stories with guest rooms and sitting rooms and studies, but I never used anything but my bedroom. Honestly, the rest of the house pretty much belonged to Gerard.
I just needed something bigger for protection, to make it difficult to get to me. If I lived in a regular apartment, it wouldn’t be hard to blow up the building or shoot out the windows. I headed downstairs and stepped into the kitchen, a place I never went, and saw Fleur and Gerard at the counter together.
“Like this.” Gerard appeared to be folding an egg inside a mixing bowl. “You have to be delicate. Otherwise, you’ll break the yolk.” He finished then let her try the next one. She didn’t notice me because she was so focused on what she was doing. She took over, and Gerard watched from beside her. “Yes, just like that.”
She finished her work then wiped her hands on her apron. “Just need to mix it, and it’ll be ready.”
Gerard took the stand mixer from one of the cupboards.
I approached the kitchen island and took a seat on one of the barstools on the other side. “What are you making, sweetheart?”
She gave a slight flinch when she realized I was there.
Gerard nearly dropped the mixer before he set it on the counter. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you were there.”
“It’s fine, Gerard.”
Her face lit up like it always did when she saw me, like every time was the first time.
I hoped she did that for the rest of our lives.
She came around the island and wrapped her arms around my neck before she kissed me, our mouths level because I was seated.
I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her into me as I kissed her, not caring that Gerard was right there. When she pulled away, I repeated the question. “What are you making?”
“Chocolate cake. I found this recipe online, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
“Would you like breakfast, sir?” Gerard asked.
“Dinner is fine,” I said without looking at him. “Chef’s choice.”
“Of course.” Gerard left to speak with the chef in the other kitchen, which was for the chef’s exclusive use. This one was for entertaining, not that I ever did that.
Fleur mixed the batter before pouring the contents into a round pan. Then she placed it in the oven and set a timer on her phone. “Fingers crossed.”
I was glad she spent her time baking and reading instead of working for a stiff suit in a stale office. It was nice to wake up and know she would be there. If she went to work every day, we would be back to our previous arrangement, where we only had the weekends together. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
She came back around and took a seat on the other stool. “Not that it matters to you…since you don’t really eat sweets.”
“Oh, you know I eat sweets.” I stared at her as I leaned my elbow on the counter.
Right on cue, her cheeks flushed because she understood my meaning perfectly. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock.”
“Good.” Her eyes drifted away, and slowly, her blush did as well.
Now that I was face-to-face with her in the light of day, the guilt started to simmer underneath the surface. I’d assumed I could keep Adrien’s plight to myself, but Luca was right. The second I was with her, I felt the burden on my shoulders. Felt like I betrayed her when I hadn’t committed any treason.
She tapped the screen of her phone to see the time left for the cake. “Are you working tonight?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t complain or look disappointed. “Amelia was nice. You think we’ll see her again?”
My eyebrows furrowed in complete bewilderment. “Who?”
“Luca’s date.”
“Oh.” I didn’t even remember her name. “No.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve never seen him with the same girl more than a handful of times.”
She gave a slow nod. “You think that will ever change? Or is he the lifetime bachelor-type?”
“Well, I thought I was the lifetime bachelor-type, and then I met you.”
The smile was instant. It took a second to grow, for the affection to reach her eyes.
“Don’t make plans, because life will change those plans.”
“So, your plan was to be single forever?”
I gave a shrug. “I was always open to the idea of monogamy if I ever found someone worth the commitment. But I didn’t ever expect to find anyone, not when all women were the same, at least it seemed that way to me.”
“Maybe Luca is the same as you.”
“He’s a bit more stubborn than I am.”
“Why is that?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He’d never tell me if I asked.”
“Why not? You’re best friends.”
“Because men don’t ask each other that—and we aren’t best friends.”
“You have a closer friend than him?” she asked incredulously.
“No. But a grown-ass man doesn’t go around saying that.”
“Why?” she asked. “It’s cute.”
I gave her a hard look. “I’m not cute, sweetheart.”
She held my gaze for a while before she tapped her phone again. “I just want some cake.”
“You could ask Gerard to grab some for you.”
“I wanted to make it. But you should never bake on an empty stomach.”
“Is this a new hobby of yours, or have you always been into baking?”
“It’s new,” she said. “I used to cook all the time, so I was never in the mood to make something fun .”
She referred to her time being Adrien’s wife, and the mention of him added more weight to my shoulders. If I kept this information to myself, my implication in the matter would never come back to haunt me, but I felt deceitful, nonetheless. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She turned away from her phone, her eyes guarded like she already knew it was bad news.
“I made peace with the Aristocrats, but they’re coming for Adrien.” Perhaps she had already realized that. Perhaps she’d been worried about it the entire time but didn’t want to mention her ex-husband to me. “They said they would make peace with me if I didn’t intervene.”
Her stare didn’t change, like she needed more time to let the situation sink in.
I waited for her to say something, but nothing seemed to be forthcoming. “I debated telling you.”
“I knew the problem hadn’t been solved.”
So, she had thought about it. “Is there something you would like me to do?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like stop it.”
Her elbow rested on the counter, and her chin was propped on her closed fist. She busied herself with a vase of flowers that sat on the corner of the kitchen island along with a grouping of white candles, like she hadn’t noticed them until now. “They warned you not to intervene, right?”
“But you know I would intervene for you, sweetheart.” Did I want to solve problems for my woman’s ex-husband? No. But I would do anything for her if she asked. I loved her unconditionally, would put my life on the line for the man she’d loved before me if that’s what she wanted.
Her eyes flicked away and stayed that way. “I’ll always care for Adrien. I wish nothing but the best for him. But you warned him multiple times, and he chose to disregard your advice. I’d appreciate if you told him what’s coming…if he doesn’t already know…so he can leave the country or something. But I don’t want you involved in this in any other way. I can accept Adrien’s death because he brought it on himself, but I could never accept yours for any reason or circumstance.” When she found the courage to look at me again, she met my gaze and focused on me.
I would go to war for this woman, but it meant the world to me that she didn’t ask me to. It probably wasn’t easy to desert the man she’d promised to love for a lifetime, but she did to prioritize me. “I’ll let him know.”
My driver was taking me to my next stop when I called Adrien.
It rang and rang.
The Aristocrats would probably consider a phone call an intervention, but Fleur had asked me to, and it was a small enough ask.
He finally answered. “How is she?” He always asked about her first, and he did such a good job of acting like he cared for her I almost believed he did. I should feel sorry for him, even though he’d fucked around on her a dozen times.
“She’s my responsibility, not yours, so stop asking.”
“I just want to know if she’s okay.”
“She’s great. Went to a wedding with me last weekend, baked a cake this afternoon, and now she’s dead asleep in my big-ass bed. What else do you want to know?”
Adrien didn’t push back. “What do you want, Bastien?”
“I don’t want anything. But I spoke to Marcus and the Aristocrats yesterday, and they want your head on a fucking platter. They told me not to intervene, but Fleur asked me to warn you. And what my woman says goes. So, consider yourself warned.”
“I didn’t kill Oscar.”
“They don’t care, Adrien. He would still be alive right now if you’d just given in to their demands.”
“Why do I have to change my business model just because they think they own all of French heritage?”
“It’s pretty rich of you to condemn their ideologies when you’re a thief who steals art history from your own people.”
“I’m Italian, not French.”
“And I think that pisses them off even more, asshole.”
He sighed his frustration into the phone.
“You’ve got two options. Give them what they want and disappear. They won’t hunt you long if they have what they want. They’ll give up after a couple weeks. Or hit them before they hit you. But that would be the stupid choice, because you don’t have the manpower, and I’m not helping you with this.”
“I didn’t ask for your help, Bastien.”
“You’re right. Because if you did, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, like a dumbass.”
Adrien stayed quiet.
I waited for him to say he was going to run for it, but he didn’t. I should just hang up and leave him to his problems, but I stayed on the phone out of some ridiculous obligation to the woman who didn’t love him anymore. “Adrien.”
“What?”
“Jesus Christ, why are you so fucking stubborn?”
“Because it’s bullshit. They think they own everything because of some pure bloodline. It’s insanity.”
“I think they’re a bunch of weirdos too, but they’re powerful and well-connected weirdos who won’t hesitate to feed your body to the cannibals in the caverns, alright? It is what it is. You have enough money to retire, start over somewhere on a beach with a warm pussy on your lap. Do not get yourself killed over this.”
“You don’t understand?—”
“Adrien. I need to make this abundantly fucking clear— I will not come for you . Fleur will not ask me to come for you. You’re on your own.”
He was quiet over the line.
I’d done my best to make him see reason, to value his life over his pride, and I couldn’t do much more. “Good luck, Adrien.”