“Motherfucker,” Louis cursed in French, interrupting Rafael’s babbling.
I turned in the direction Louis was staring and groaned.
Is Celina fucking serious?
A long red carpet led to the stairs going up to Rafael’s plane.
With a huge smile, Celina stood next to the beginning of the red carpet while holding a bottle of champagne. Five big Russian men stood behind her and gripped their guns.
Two police cars were parked by her limo. A few of the cops leaned on their cars and smoked a cigarette, making it clear that they wouldn’t bother us, if we didn’t bother them.
The limo driver stood behind the car with two big stylish poodles on his side.
And on the other side of Celina was a jazz sextet. All five men wore tuxedos with pink roses in the lapel as they played their instruments. Saxophone and trumpet. Trombone and flute. She even had the audacity to have a man playing a piano. The last played a saxophone.
Rafael scowled. “This Celina is not one for humility, is she?”
I frowned. “Apparently not.”
“You think those are her dogs?” Rafael asked.
“Who else would have poodles here?” I scanned the rest of the space and saw no one else.
Rafael growled. “I’m going to shoot those mangy dogs.”
“Don’t.”
Our helicopter landed near the plane.
I jumped off first and stomped her way.
Twenty feet lay between her and me.
If I had a notebook and pen, I still wouldn’t have been able to describe the rage boiling within my chest. She’d kept me away from Eden, and while I understood why, it was time for her to let it go and give me a chance. She’d alerted the FBI and had come to rub it all in my face.
We’ll see.
Rafael and Louis rushed to my side and did a light jog as I prowled her way.
“Don’t kill her,” Rafael said.
“I won’t.” I sneered as I got closer. “I’ve heard women don’t like when you kill their family members.”
Ten feet remained.
The poodles with the limo driver barked. He yanked them away and walked them several feet away. Still, the closer I stepped to Celina, the more the dogs went wild.
Eden’s family is tough. Not even the dogs are excited about me.
Louis had been quiet most of the morning, but had decided to chime in. “Those men behind her are higher ranked than the Russians before. You see the stars on their neck. We should proceed with caution, pass her, and get on the plane.”
“No.” I grunted as the distance closed. “We should at least say goodbye.”
She smiled as I stopped in front of her. “Bonjour, Jean-Pierre.”
I did my best to keep my expression neutral.
Rafael and Louis stood right by me. Only God knew what they were thinking. We had to play this entire moment safe. FBI was swarming our hotel. The only important thing to do was get our asses in the sky and out of America.
Not to mention that Celina had high level Russians behind her. They could’ve been men delivered from her lover’s powerful nephew, Kazimir. Although I didn’t fear the lion’s roar, I hadn’t planned on going to war with him this year.
The band began to play but kept the volume low.
Celina must’ve had a speech prepared.
I smiled, when she began.
“Have you heard this song before?” she asked.
“I have,” I said. “It’s J’ai Deux Amours. Back in the 1930s, Josephine Baker would sing it in Paris.”
She rolled her eyes. “You would know that. Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen also sung it.”
“But not like Josephine Baker,” I hissed.
“Why do you think I picked this song for your bon voyage?”
“The song discusses having two loves—America and Paris. I’m confused by your selection.”
“Why?” Celina asked.
“While I do love Paris, I don’t love America. I come here for Eden.”
“Unfortunately, that paradise was not meant for you.”
“And no one else will have her either.” I leaned her way. “Not while I’m alive.”
“Then, we’ll have to fix that.” She frowned. “I was hoping that this morning’s actions would be a valuable lesson for you, but it doesn’t seem like you enjoy learning.”
Rafael chuckled. “Jean-Pierre has killed a few of his teachers.”
I shrugged. “I don’t like authority figures.”
Celina smirked. “Either way, I’m glad you don’t like America. Now that our country is aware that you’ve been traveling here, it wouldn’t be safe for you to return.”
I gave her my warmest smile. “You’re correct, Aunt Celina.”
The space under her left eye twitched.
“Thank you for your concern, Aunt Celina.”
“There are so many beautiful women in Paris.” She looked back at the Russian men behind her as if to ask them a question. “Isn’t Paris known for having the most gorgeous women in the world?”
“No,” Rafael interjected. “Paris is known for food and fucking.”
“And love,” I added.
“And gaslights,” Louis chimed in.
We all looked at Louis, including Celina. For some reason, he continued to explain, “That’s why they call Paris the City of Light. Because of the gas street lights.”