CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ALLISON
A cloud of white fills my vision as awareness slowly blinks to life. We arrived in Paris late last night, and despite the private jet housing a comfortable bedroom, I didn’t sleep a wink during the flight. Couldn’t. Not while Mathias and the guys quietly discussed their plan for Louis Petit and his former company.
After years of preparation, the Blackchapel Bastards were finally taking the first step in revenge against their fathers. There’d be no turning back then; they’d have to see it through to the end.
And that has sent my anxiety on a rollercoaster of highs and lows the past two days—from packing for the short trip to imagining how everything could go wrong. Especially since Mathias, Luca, and I were caught in the crosshairs of a drive-by the last time we were in Paris.
I was shot. Twice.
Staring out the French doors leading to a balcony, I study the cream-colored exteriors of the buildings lining the street. Mathias chose a small, boutique hotel for our stay, one at the heart of historical Paris rather than near the Petit Enterprises skyscraper. It’s a romantic choice I didn’t expect from such a practical man.
A warm palm slides up my bare thigh. Stomach. Neck. “What are you thinking so hard about, ma cherie ?” His thumb frees my bottom lip from where I’d been unconsciously biting it.
“This is an important trip. I’m trying to mentally prepare myself.”
He smooths a kiss over my brow as his hand dips to cup my pussy. A wash of heat spreads below my belly at the possessive touch. “Don’t dwell on it too much. You’ll be safe here while we deal with Petit. For all his faults, Conrad trained us well.”
“I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about you and your brothers. There are seven of you against an international criminal organization. And you're down one man with Aleksei in prison. Those aren’t good odds, Mathias.”
“Every Syndicate member won’t be at the meeting tomorrow,” he jokes, beginning to rock his palm against my clit as two fingers tease my opening.
“But they will hear about what goes down, then you’ll have targets on your backs. More than you already do.”
Mathias rolls so his large body flanks my side, one leg hooking around mine to spread me wider for his handiwork between my thighs. As far as distractions go, being touched by Mathias tops the list, but the slew of concerns weighing on my mind refuses to be thwarted so easily.
“Do you have to meet your father in person? Can’t you let Interpol arrest him without first rubbing it in his face that you’ve won?”
His movements stutter for a second then resume—determination vibrates from his firm caresses and the steeliness in his eyes. “I’m not rubbing anything in his face. I’m proving to him and myself that I never needed him. That I became a successful force to be reckoned with in the business and criminal realm despite his abandonment.”
That sounds like another version of what I said, but I don’t call him on it. Mathias made up his mind long before I ever entered his life. All of the Blackchapel Bastards require some sort of closure with their dads.
I just hope closure doesn’t cost them.
Permanently.
I don’t think any of them could survive losing a brother. The thought of losing Mathias… My breath hitches in my lungs, and I quickly slam my eyes shut to avoid him seeing my sudden tears. He’s the first person to truly care about my well-being, even more than I do sometimes.
“Enough talk about my father. I want you to come for me, Angel, and then we’re taking a town car—with our café crèmes and almond croissants fresh from the boulangerie —shopping. You need a gown for this evening.”
“But—Mathias!” I gasp and arch my back when he replaces his fingers with his thick cock, the velvety steel plunging deep in one hard thrust.
His lips trace mine before claiming them in a not-so-subtle command to let my fears go. To give them to him.
He's always protecting me, even from myself.
But who will protect him?
***
The Eiffel Tower shines in the distance and sparkling lights decorate the tables and railings. It should be romantic, a dream, yet I'm falling into a nightmare as a prickle of awareness runs beneath my skin.
The first warning sign of an anxiety attack.
Please, not here. Not now.
We’re at the company party I tried so hard to get out of, celebrating the new ownership of Petit Enterprises. But this is too much.
Too much pressure.
My hand wraps around the steel railing as I sway forward. My eyes fixate on the long drop below.
Falling would feel like flying.
Flying is freedom.
No! I shake the thought off and clasp the back of Mathias's jacket. It wrinkles under my sweaty palm, but it's my lifeline.
“Mathias,” I whisper, urgency infiltrating the one word.
He glances down and must read the distress on my face because he immediately cups the back of my neck, drawing me nearer as a soothing massage begins.
No one else would notice a difference in him because his conversation continues like normal, but I recognize the awareness in his body, the slight protective shift to position himself partially in front of me.
A moment later, Dmitri sidles up to us and easily steers the conversation to a different topic, freeing Mathias to exit the group with me in tow.
The connection the brothers have is unmatched. They don’t even have to speak for one to understand they’re needed like Dmitri just did. I’m almost jealous of their closeness because I’ve never felt that with anyone. Least of all, my own brother.
“What's wrong?” Mathias ushers me into an empty hall. “What do you need?”
“Nothing’s really wrong,” I say, embarrassed by my body’s unpredictable reactions. “Tonight is just starting to get to me. I’m so far out of my element here.”
And I'm worried about the confrontation planned for tomorrow.
But he's already aware of my feelings where his father is concerned.
That's why he made today so special.
Mathias provided the full Pretty Woman treatment after our passionate morning in bed. A band of stylists, a makeup artist, and a hairdresser made me presentable for this evening. The full-length navy gown I found in a luxury boutique on the Champs-élysées shimmers down my body, and it’s the fanciest thing I’ve ever worn. Hell, this is the fanciest I’ve ever been.
And it's freaking me out.
I barely recognize the woman in the mirror.
He even got me prescription contacts, so I could skip my glasses for the evening. Though it hasn’t stopped me from absentmindedly reaching for my nose to push up the missing frames.
“You’re doing great.” Mathias hugs me close. “Do I need to provide a distraction?” His hand drifts lower to squeeze my ass, and I chuckle but shake my head.
“No, orgasms can mimic the effects of an attack. Increased heart rate. Tingling sensation. It ends up making things worse. But thanks,” I mumble, burying my head in his chest. “Just keep holding me. The feeling should pass soon. It hasn’t become a full-fledged attack yet.”
“Okay, but first, take this.” He removes a flat pill case from his wallet and offers the familiar white tablet.
“How…? When did you start carrying those with you?” I ask in wonder before swallowing the pill. It's my medication for immediate relief from an attack. I can't believe he has them.
“After that first night when I learned about them.”
“Thank you.”
He cups my face and drops a kiss to my forehead before hugging me again. “Don't thank me for looking after you, Allie. It's my privilege.”
We stand silently as I match my breaths to Mathias’s even inhales and exhales. I feel bad for distracting him with my problems when we’re here as a last fuck you before executing the plan for revenge against his dad tomorrow.
When he finally shared what he and his brothers had been searching for all those hours in their office, I was relieved to know it’d come to an end soon.
Although, that just means they’ll move on to Luca’s dad next since he put out a hit for his illegitimate son.
Such an intricate web.
And dwelling on it isn't going to help your current situation.
Refocusing on my breathing, I slam the door on thoughts about tomorrow but then an anxious voice taunts.
But those aren't the only worries you have…