12. Fleur
12
FLEUR
I sat there alone in the living room, looking at the cold fireplace with the phone sitting in my palm. A watched pot never boiled, and a watched phone didn’t ring either. But I continued to wait, continued to pray, continued to hope that the love of my life would come back to me.
Then he called.
“Oh my god.” I took the call and nearly dropped the phone as I tried to put it to my ear. “Bastien?”
“I’m okay. Head downstairs. My driver is going to bring you to the hospital.”
“Why the hospital? Are you okay?—”
“I’m fine. But Adrien isn’t.”
“Oh.”
“We’re a couple blocks away.”
I was quiet as I absorbed that, that Bastien may have gotten there too late. “Do you think he’s going to make it…?”
He held his silence for a while. “I won’t lie to you. It doesn’t look good. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Is he with you now?”
“Yeah, he passed out a couple minutes ago.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Okay. I love you.”
He didn’t hang up, just sat with the phone to his ear. “I love you too.”
I hung up to head downstairs, and I got into the back seat of the SUV. His driver took me across town, driving in the dark, the streets still full of people because it wasn’t midnight yet. Now that my biggest fear had been alleviated, that Bastien hadn’t been killed, I could breathe again.
But I also didn’t want Adrien to die.
I hated him for the way he’d treated me, but I believed Bastien was the man I was supposed to be with all along, so it was hard to hold a grudge. I didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but it seemed like those things might be real. Maybe all those bad things were supposed to happen so I would find Bastien…and he would save my life.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the hospital. Bastien wasn’t in the waiting room, but Luca was. Other than an ugly bruise on his face, he looked unharmed. He rose from his chair and came to me when he saw me walk into the room.
On instinct, I hugged him, gripped him hard, and squeezed. “You okay?”
He flinched at my touch, his arms at his sides like he didn’t know how to reciprocate my affection. But then his arms moved and closed around my body. “Yeah…I’m okay.” He gave me a squeeze before he pulled away.
“Where is he?” Bastien was the first person I’d expected to see, but he wasn’t there. Maybe he was in the restroom or the cafeteria. But I couldn’t imagine him leaving until he saw me first.
“He’s getting stitched up.”
“ Stitched up ?”
“Guess he didn’t tell you that.”
“Tell me what?”
“He got stabbed in the arm. But he’ll be fine.”
“He got stabbed?”
“He’s been shot, so this is nothing.”
“ What ?”
“Not now, but a couple years ago?—”
“ Luca .”
I heard his voice behind me and immediately turned to see his face.
He gave Luca a cold stare. “You have the worst bedside manner I’ve ever seen.”
“I told her you were fine,” he argued.
“You told her I was shot,” Bastien snapped. “She did not need to know that.”
I moved into his chest and hugged him tight, smelling the rain that had dampened his clothes. He was alive and well, and I squeezed him as I treasured that fact.
His arms circled my shoulders, and he held me there, let me hold on to him like a life raft. “It’s alright, sweetheart.”
Luca silently excused himself.
I pulled away and looked at Bastien’s arm, seeing the thick bandage that had been wrapped tightly around his bicep. “You kill the asshole who did this to you?”
He gave a slight smile. “You know I did.”
“Where have you been shot?”
The smile disappeared. “That was a long time ago.”
“Where?”
His hand moved to the back of his head, and he rubbed an area behind his ear. “It grazed me. It’s the one spot where I can’t grow hair.”
“ You were shot in the head ?”
“I said grazed.”
“Jesus.” He was right in front of me, alive and healthy, probably healthier than he’d have been if none of this had happened and he’d been able to eat that steak. But I still felt winded, like the action continued even though the end had arrived. “Where is he?”
“With the ER staff.”
“No updates?”
He shook his head.
“What did they do to him?”
Bastien never answered the question. “You want to wait for him here or head home? I can have my guys call with an update.”
If I went home, I would just pace the room and wish I were at the hospital. “I’m going to wait here. I understand if you want to go home and clean up.”
“I go where you go, sweetheart.” He guided me to one of the chairs and sat down. “It’s probably going to be a while, so get comfortable.”
I sat there and crossed my legs, still in the same outfit I’d worn to dinner, a low-cut sweater with tight jeans and boots. The ER was packed with people who were waiting to be seen or waiting for an update about their loved ones. The TVs in the corners showed sports or soap operas.
Having to sit there and wait was anticlimactic after all the fear that had gripped me for the last hour.
Luca took a seat beside Bastien.
“Did you get him?” Bastien asked in a quiet voice.
He shook his head. “Disappeared into the crypt…like a cockroach.”
Bastien said nothing else.
I wasn’t sure who they spoke of.
Luca continued. “By the time I reached the caverns, it would have been too late.”
Bastien remained quiet.
Luca slouched in the chair and stared at the TV.
“You don’t have to wait here,” Bastien said. “You don’t have to pretend to care about this shithead.”
“I don’t care about him—but I care about you and Fleur.”
I was scared for Adrien, but Luca’s words broke through the fear and made me smile. “Best friends…”
The doctor finally gave us an update.
Adrien had lost a lot of blood but was able to get a transfusion soon enough to survive the ordeal. It sounded like he’d been stabbed all over his body. We were invited to visit him in his room, but I was the only one who went in because Bastien didn’t seem interested in seeing him.
I walked into the empty room and found him asleep in bed, the monitors beeping quietly, the streetlights shining through the closed blinds. It was a private room, so he was the only one in there.
I approached the bed and looked down at him, his skin so pale, his body so lifeless. He looked like he’d lost ten pounds even though he’d been fit the last time I’d seen him. It was either the loss of blood or the stress…or he really had lost that much weight since the last time I’d seen him.
As if he knew I was there, he opened his eyes slowly. It took him a second to focus on my face and another second for him to recognize me. “Fleur…” His voice cracked like he’d been asleep for a long time, when it’d only been a few hours at most. He slowly moved his hand across the bed and inched closer to mine to take it.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Hope disappeared from his eyes quicker than the flame of a lit candle in the wind. He swallowed, his disappointment palpable. His wrists were bandaged, and he looked like he’d been hit by a shipping truck, his skin bruised like he’d taken a frying pan to the face. “Why did you ask him to save me?”
“I didn’t, actually,” I said. “He just did it, because he knew I didn’t want you dead.” I grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it closer to his bedside, even though I had no intention of taking his hand, of ever touching him again. Tragedy brought people closer together, but this tragedy wasn’t enough, not when he wasn’t innocent in this story. He didn’t exactly move mountains to save me, so I shouldn’t move mountains to make him feel wanted.
“Does my family know?”
“I haven’t told them.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
I looked at the window instead of his face, unable to bear the sight of his beaten expression. “What happened?”
He didn’t answer me for a long time. “I got what I deserved.”
“I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m sure no one deserves that.”
“I tried to get out, but I wasn’t quick enough.”
“Bastien told me.”
“At least Bastien killed them, so I don’t have to.”
“You’re going to continue the business?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I thought I was going to die last time I was conscious, so it’s hard to think further ahead than the next hour.”
I wouldn’t be the one to take care of him. I wouldn’t get him home and into bed. Wouldn’t bring him his meals and handle the house so he could rest. He’d thrown all that away when he’d stuck his dick in someone else. It seemed even less worth it now because we both knew none of those girls would come to the hospital if they knew he was there. “You’ll need to tell one of your brothers…so someone will come get you.”
His mood dropped further, like he’d expected me to do more for him. “Yeah. Call Anthony.”
“Sure, I can do that.”
I continued to sit there even though I didn’t have a reason to stay. I guess it was pity that kept me there. He’d thrown me away, and I was still the only person he could count on. He’d betrayed me, and I was still there when I shouldn’t be.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Yeah.”
“And thanks for…saving my life.”
I couldn’t take the credit for that, not when I didn’t have to ask. Because Bastien loved me enough not to make me ask. “You’re on your own now, Adrien. Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try.”
I got to my feet then returned the chair to the wall.
“Fleur?”
I turned back to him, unsure what else there was to say.
“I’m sorry…for everything.” His eyes burned in their own darkness. “If I could take it all back, I would.”
I used to dismiss his apologies. Used to discount them as pleading. But I could see the sincerity like a beacon of light that called the ships home. “I know, Adrien.”
“And…” He didn’t grimace in pain as if that was the cause of the interruption. Didn’t seem to lose his train of thought either. He just struggled to get the words out. “And I’m happy for you…he’s a good guy.”
I’d never needed his blessing, but it was nice to receive it. The final page had finally turned, and the book had closed. It was a novella, more of a footnote compared to the story of my life. Just as winter ended the year, I felt the closure I’d sought for many months. The guilt-free acceptance of the end. I’d loved Adrien with all my heart, but those feelings had faded faster than the setting sun. Now, my heart burned white-hot for someone else, a torch I would carry for eternity. “I’m going to marry him.”
There wasn’t a wince or a look of surprise. Instead of turning the page back to the start, he let the book come to an end. Let the winter winds blow our past over the countryside and disappear. “I know.”
By the time we got home, it was nearly three in the morning.
Our dinner had been interrupted, so we hadn’t eaten. My appetite kicked in once we walked into his bedroom, now that all the fear and uncertainty had passed.
Bastien seemed to have the same thought because he pulled out his phone and fired off a text, and I assumed it was to Gerard. I supposed it could have been to anyone, but I knew Bastien well enough to suspect he was starving.
That man was always starving.
He changed out of his clothes and put on his sweatpants. He was shirtless, so the gauze around his arm that concealed the stitches underneath was visible like a commemorative medal. He poured himself a drink from the bar then took a seat at the table, eyes heavy like he was tired but too hungry for sleep. Then he grabbed a cigar, lit it up, and just let it sit between his lips.
I changed too, choosing to wear his clothes instead of my own. They were more comfortable, and they smelled like him. Smelled like romance and rain and the City of Light. I sat across from him, one knee bent with my foot against the seat, his shirt like a baggy dress.
He didn’t usually smoke his cigars around me, and now that I saw him do it, I realized I hadn’t seen him smoke in a while. And when he came home, he didn’t smell like it either. Made me wonder if he’d been trying to cut back on that too.
He let the cloud of smoke escape from his mouth, relaxed in the chair with his arms slightly crossed. He looked out the window and over the dark water to the lights of the buildings across the way, the Eiffel Tower the beacon of the city.
“How are you?”
He took another drag and then released the smoke. “Fucking hungry.”
I could tell he was in a bad mood, and now I knew he was hangry . All it took was one skipped meal, and he was beside himself. The stab wound and almost getting killed was no problem at all. I stayed quiet and drank the wine he’d poured me and let the silence go by, knowing he would be the man I remembered once the food came.
Twenty minutes later, Gerard delivered the meal.
Bastien didn’t even wait until Gerard placed my plate in front of me before he started to eat. It was a steak and potatoes and greens, so he was determined to get his steak tonight, regardless of what went down.
I didn’t mind that he’d dropped his manners. He deserved to eat.
Gerard left, and we ate in silence. I had a bowl of penne pasta with a side salad, as if Bastien had told him to make that specifically. The hot food hit the spot after the crazy night. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was either until I’d walked in the door. My last meal had been at lunchtime, and it was just a cup of soup.
He smoked his cigar between bites, something I’d never seen him do. When he finished inhaling his food, he put out the cigar right on his dinner plate then drank the rest of his glass until there was nothing left.
Life came back into his face, and he looked like the man I knew and loved. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “It was hard seeing him like that, but he’ll be fine. He’s got his brothers and parents and stuff.”
“He’s not your problem.”
“I know he’s not. Now, you’re my problem.” I gave him an affectionate smile before I glanced at the gauze on his arm.
He didn’t smile back, but his eyes softened subtly.
It was a rough day, a day that could have ended quite differently. But it ended in the way that I needed it to end, a final goodbye that wasn’t teary, but kind. “I finally got the closure I’ve been looking for…and that was nice.”
“Good. You deserve peace.”
“Yeah, just wish it could have happened differently.” Without Bastien being stabbed and Adrien… I wasn’t sure what exactly had happened to him.
“We both lived to tell the tale. All that matters.”
“Yeah.” I finished half of my food and left it there, my focus entirely on Bastien now. “I don’t even know how to thank you for what you did. Adrien is my ex-husband, and you still helped him. And you didn’t even make me ask.” It took an extraordinary man to be that secure, to risk his life for a man who used to call me his. But he felt no jealousy. Never showed a single sign of it.
He crossed his arms over his chest fully, and he stared at me hard, almost like he was angry. His eyes were focused with a lethal precision. It was hard to know what he was thinking in that moment, if my words moved him or annoyed him.
“I’m not sure how I can ever show my gratitude.” His love felt unconditional, as if he would truly do anything for me, no matter what it was, even if it was putting his life on the line for an ex who deserved what was coming to him. I would never understand why he’d chosen me to love, when he could have literally any woman he wanted with those devastating blue eyes…but he did.
The silence was heavy, as if whatever he was about to say had enough substance to put a hole in the wall. His eyes were sharp like the knife that had cut his arm, and he seemed to slice straight into my soul. “I know how.”
Bumps formed on my arms as the excitement prickled. After the night we’d had, I expected a quiet evening on the couch, but it looked like he wanted to throw me on the bed and tie my wrists to the headboard.
He cocked his head slightly, still giving me a look that hit harder than a bullet. “Marry me.”
I blinked, unsure if that was a serious statement or some kind of a joke. But given what had just happened over the last few hours, it seemed like a shitty time to make a joke. I almost asked but I changed my mind, and that was probably for the best.
His stare didn’t change, and that told me he was dead serious. “You want to thank me for what I did? Then marry me.”
All that stuff in the closet was dirty talk—but it was also true. It’d clearly been on his mind, but for how long, I didn’t know. It gave me a rush of adrenaline, of excitement and fear packaged together into a swirl of emotions. I’d just told Adrien that I would marry Bastien, but I meant someday, and the question still put me on the spot.
He waited for me to say something, not blinking since he’d begun this showdown.
I swallowed. Melted in the heat of his stare. Felt cornered like an animal. “Are you actually asking me?—”
“ I’m telling you .”
Jesus.
“That’s what I want. Now, give it to me.”
I was hot all over, a strange mixture of being turned on and fucking scared. No other man had ever wanted me so desperately, had ever been obsessed with me from the moment our eyes met. But it wasn’t a passion that flamed out as quickly as it started. It continued to burn, continued to grow, and he never seemed to grow tired of me.
“You said you had closure.”
“I did?—”
“Then let’s do it.” He was so pragmatic about it, like this was a business negotiation rather than a romantic gesture. Every time I gave Bastien an inch, he demanded a mile. And now, he demanded all of my miles.
Jesus, my heart was beating so hard.
He abruptly rose to his feet and walked off. He headed to the bedroom.
I gave a quiet gasp in fear, afraid that I’d pissed him off and chased him away, but I was rooted to my chair, still grappling with the fact that he’d just asked— told —me to be his wife.
He returned as quickly as he left and placed a small box in front of me.
The lid was already open—revealing a big-ass diamond ring. “Oh my fucking god…” A brilliant oval diamond started up at me, reflecting the light that came from every corner and angle, the clarity unmistakable. The diamond had to be about twenty carats, the kind of ring only a queen would wear. Like, an actual queen. It was so big that its intention was more than to denote marital status, but rather the status of the man who’d given it to me. I wasn’t a jeweler or someone who knew anything about engagement rings, but this one had to be worth at least a couple million. “Bastien…” How long had it been sitting in his drawer? How long had I been sleeping right next to it? When did he buy it? When did he plan on giving it to me? Because I didn’t believe this was the moment he’d been waiting for.
“Do you like it?”
My eyes flicked up to his, and I released a strained laugh. “ Do I like it… ”
“Then put it on.”
“Is this too fast?—”
“No.”
“Bastien.”
“I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to say it.” His arms moved to the table, and he leaned forward. “Are you?”
“No…”
“Then put on the damn ring and be my wife.”
I sucked in a breath before I looked at the ring again. My last wedding ring had been a completely different cut and style, and I was relieved to see something new, something that was unique and breathtaking but still me. I loved it the moment I saw it, and I loved it more because of who had given it to me.
I took the ring out of the box and slid it onto my finger, and of course, it was a perfect fit. The diamond was enormous compared to my slender finger. Anyone who saw it would know that a very powerful and rich man was behind it, that I belonged to someone ruthless…and romantic.
When I looked up at him again, he didn’t look pissed off anymore. Now, his eyes had softened slightly, and a wonderment was in his gaze. His eyes shifted back and forth between mine before a slow smile crept on to his lips. Then he slammed his hand hard onto the table, so hard it made the plates and glasses dance and clatter against the surface. “Fuck yeah.” He came around the table and dropped to his knees between my legs, kissing me hard, both hands cupping my cheeks, his tongue already in my mouth. His hands were in my hair, and he ravished me like I’d only been a fantasy until this moment—when he finally got to have me.
He lifted me from the chair and put me on the table, my legs wrapping around his waist. He grabbed my baggy shirt and pulled it off until my tits were out. My thong came next, yanked over my ass and thighs until it slid to my ankles then dropped to the floor.
Bastien breathed quick and hard as he shoved down his bottoms and revealed his rock-hard dick. He tugged me to the edge, tilted my hips enough to shove his fat dick inside, squeezing into my tight paradise. He forced his way in and gave the sexiest moan when he claimed my lands in his name. “Fuck.” He tugged on the back of my hair with his hand, and he fucked me more like a whore than a fiancée.
But I fucking liked it.
He was vicious, pounding into me hard and fast, not caring if it was too much or too deep.
I clung to his arms, saw my brilliant diamond against his beautiful skin, felt claimed by him in a deeper way than before. I would be more than his woman. I would be his wife. The woman of the house. The mother of his children. He wanted me for all his life, and he wasn’t afraid to say it. He didn’t play games. Didn’t run away from commitment like a boy with too many options.
“Say you’ll marry me.” He breathed into my ear as he continued to fuck me.
“I’ll marry you.” I squeezed his hips with my thighs as I took the ruthless pounding.
“Fucking marry me.”
“Yes.” I was already going to come, starting at nothing and going to a hundred in a second. “I want to marry you.” I clawed at his arms, even at his injury, but he didn’t react to the pain. “I want to marry you…”
“Fuck yeah.”
I started to come around him, the tears shedding, my body on fire. “God…yes.”
He rammed into me harder as his skin blotched red, coated in sweat. He gave a moan as he released, dumping his seed inside me as I came with him, the two of us moaning and grunting and crying out as we exploded in fire.
We didn’t stop until sunrise.
We started at the dining table, then hit the couch, and then made our way into bed. After the third time, we were both spent, tired from the long night but still high on each other. I lay beside him, my leg hiked over his hip, tracing the rough outline of his stubble with my fingers.
His eyes were tired, but he didn’t close them, still staring into my depths.
When I’d left Adrien, I’d expected to be single for at least a year, to take my time before getting back into the dating world. Instead, I ended up engaged less than six months later, and it felt right. “The ring has been sitting in your nightstand this whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“I bought it six weeks ago.”
Six weeks ago. That was before he’d asked me to move in. Before we’d said we loved each other. When we were trying to take it slow. “You knew all the way back then?”
“I knew it even before. Went after I had drinks with Luca.”
“Why then?”
He gave a slight smile. “I’ll let Luca tell you the story.”
I continued to outline the hard bones in his jawline with my fingers. I was smothered by his scent, the smell of man and sweat and cigar smoke and rain…all the things I loved. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
“I love the way it looks on you when you’re naked.”
“Of course you do.”
His hand went to my ass, and he squeezed it with his big hand.
“Will you wear a ring?”
“I prefer to wear ink rather than jewelry.”
I suddenly remembered that conversation from long ago, when he’d said he saved room to ink his wife’s name on his arm. Based on that, I’d assumed he would also ink a wedding band on his finger if he ever got married. Was he thinking of me when he said that? Had he bought the ring then? “That’s pretty hot.”
His handsome smile emerged. “Black. Permanent. Forever a part of me.”
“It’s sweet.”
He pulled me close then sprinkled me with kisses, on my shoulder, my neck, my collarbone, drenching me in his love. He returned to the pillow then continued to stare at me, the sun slowly rising and moving between the cracks in the curtains. They brightened his eyes, making them look like tropical ocean pools.
“I love you.” With all my heart. With everything I am.
He didn’t blink. He didn’t say it back. Silence stretched, and it was clear something was on his mind. He’d been happy a moment ago, but slowly, the sadness started to creep into his bones and then his flesh. “My father and I hadn’t spoken for two years when he came to my apartment one night…”
All the warmth left me when I heard those words, when I understood whatever he had to say was important…and heartbreaking.
“He came alone and unannounced. I don’t know what made him do it. If he was in my neighborhood and it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Or if he planned it, which was why he drove himself instead of having his driver bring him. So many questions and I’ll never be able to ask him because that night ended with me killing him.”
I didn’t know why he told me all this. “You don’t have to explain, Bastien.”
He ignored what I said. “My father had never been good at putting a full sentence together, unless it was three words or less. Do this. Go here. Kill so-and-so . So, when he came to my apartment, he said a lot of shitty things. Like he wished they’d never had me…or that I’d been a girl he could use as a pawn.” His eyes flicked away, and he swallowed.
It was the first time I’d seen Bastien seem unsure of himself, take a moment to feel and reflect and writhe in silent pain. So afraid to spook him, I didn’t move or speak, just hoped he would finish the horrible tale.
“My father wasn’t a good man, but even then, I don’t understand how anyone can just barge into someone’s apartment after not speaking for two years, only to say the most unspeakable things. There must have been a better reason for him to come. Must have been something else that he’d never said. Or maybe that’s just me wanting to believe in a fantasy because reality is too fucking harsh.”
I did my best not to cry. Did my best not to provoke him. Bastien was never vulnerable, and I knew once this moment was gone, it would be gone forever. He would return to his rock-hard callousness, back to his sly jokes and indifference.
“Back and forth, we insulted each other. He hit me first and I hit him back. We fought on the floor, and he reached for his gun inside his jacket. To this day, I still don’t know if he grabbed it to shoot me…or if he grabbed it so I wouldn’t shoot him. It all happened so fast, and I didn’t think it through at the time. He said he hated me, and I said I wished he were dead, so I turned the gun on him and squeezed his finger over the trigger…and killed him.”
I nearly gasped in shock but somehow kept it back.
“He bled out…and I lay there in it.” His eyes weren’t on me anymore. They were looking into the distance, living in the past while I stayed with his body in the present. “It’s hard enough to listen to your father say you’re unwanted…but then having to kill him when you didn’t want to…and having to carry that guilt these last thirteen years…to hate your brother and watch him hate you…and to lie to your mother every day because she has no idea that she birthed the monster who killed her husband… Sometimes it’s too much.” A buildup of moisture had coated his eyes, but he blinked and it was gone. He took a couple breaths, pushed back the avalanche of sorrow that had started to roll down his mountain. “But it doesn’t feel like too much with you.”