The Boss (Chateau 3)

He fell silent and didn’t look at me again.

“You’re my only hope, Fender.”

At the sound of his name, he turned back to me, his gaze hard.

“Take care of me. I’m asking you to take care of me.” I knew I was so close to changing his mind, securing the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world. My hands shook as they held on to him.

He stared for a long time before he spoke. “She will always stand between us. She will always haunt you. That is the only reason—”

“Thank you.” I jumped into him, my arms latching on for dear life. My body moved into his lap, and I clung to him like a lifeline.

He didn’t hug me back, remaining still as he felt me bury my face in his neck and cry. His arms eventually wrapped around me, his hand moving into my hair, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. His hand gently pulled me back so he could look at me. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’ll remove her from the camp, but I won’t let her go.”

I was disappointed but unsurprised. “Then where will she go?”

“On the estate in the guest quarters. You can go visit her, but she’ll never be permitted to enter our residence. Guards will watch her at all times. She’ll have everything she needs to be comfortable, but never freedom. That’s the extent of my generosity.”

She would just be a prisoner again, but in a luxurious setting. Raven would never accept that. “If the police will do nothing if she goes to them, and she’s no threat to you, then why not just release her?”

He stared me down long and hard, like the question angered him. “Because I don’t like her.” His tone darkened, his expression hardening and turning his countenance angry. “Appreciate my generosity. Because I’m being very generous, more generous than I’ve ever been in my life—for you.” He stared me down in expectation.

My arms remained wrapped around his neck, my face close to his, my ass in his lap on the couch. I knew Raven wouldn’t accept imprisonment in any format, but she would be taken care of, we would see each other every day, we would be safe for the rest of our lives. She would accept it eventually. She would appreciate what I’d done for her—that I saved her. “Thank you.”

Eighteen

The Catacombs

Fender

I spoke to Magnus on the phone inside my office. “Jacques has lifted the importation embargo from Colombia, so we can get what we needed through another medium.” All it took was some wining and dining, making the president feel like a major player in the game, to get what I wanted. Money wasn’t the only thing that mattered to him. Ego was even more important.

Magnus held his silence.

He was already on thin ice with me, so I didn’t appreciate his disapproval. “You have nothing to say?”

“If we lift the trade agreement, what’s to stop copycats?”

“Our guns.” I hung up because I couldn’t stand his bullshit a second longer.

Gilbert stepped in a moment later. “Sir, where will you be taking your lunch—”

“Here.” I tossed the phone across the desk.

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Shall I tell Melanie you wish to be alone for the rest of the day?”

My immediate reaction was to dismiss her, but I didn’t mind having her around, even if we didn’t speak. Her presence was soothing to me. Her beauty distracted me. Made me forget about bullshit. “She’s always welcome.”

He gave a bow then departed.

When I’d woken up that morning, I wanted to take back my offer.

I shouldn’t have caved.

I allowed her to make me weak. I allowed her to turn me soft. But when I heard her nighttime screams, I came running without hesitation. I watched her tears pour down her face and wished I could take it all away. I wished I could give her only joy. I wanted to take care of my chérie, and watching her fall into despair told me how much I’d failed.

I fucking failed.

Now I couldn’t take back what I promised. I couldn’t go back on my word to her. I had to see this through, pull out that obnoxious bitch and replace her with someone else, only to have her live on my property, to be fed and clothed for the rest of her life.

And I had to foot the bill.

But there was no other way.

Raven was the thorn in my side, the cinder block in the road, the bullet lodged deep into my flesh.

Heels tapped against the hard floor outside the open doorway, growing louder as Melanie approached. She had a slow gait, taking her time as if she had nowhere to be or whoever expected her presence would wait a lifetime.

I’d wait several lifetimes.

My back was sunk into the armchair, my fingers curled into a fist against my chin, my elbow on the leather armrest. My eyes took her in as she stepped inside, holding a book in one hand, wearing a pale blue dress with matching heels. Her only responsibility as a resident was to wear the beautiful clothes I provided, the diamonds, the finer things in life that most people didn’t even know existed.