Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

He had rounded up a good number of men and had them pillaging and plunging, all over the city. Their chief goal must’ve been to create as much chaos as possible. It would keep the police busy. Bratva had stormed down Corsican neighborhoods. They hadn’t killed, but they’d injured. They hadn’t destroyed, but they’d annoyed my men, and had their families anxious and restless.

Smart move. Rattle the city. Rattle the people. Rattle my men. The only problem is, motherfucker, you won’t rattle me.

Kazimir had kept us busy. He’d sent men to all of our known headquarters in Paris, including Rafael’s restaurant. We’d seen images of the aftermath. The Bratva had wrecked Shalimar’s. Where once an elegant structure stood, now rocks, broken bricks, and shattered glass remained.

I glanced at Rafael as he sat next to me in the limo. “I’m sorry about your restaurant.”

“That’s fine.” He kept his voice low. “A truck crashing through the restaurant is an exact metaphor for my relationship with Shalimar anyway. What other way could we end?”

I let out a long breath. “Do you want to avoid seeing her, when we get there? The limo is taking us over there now.”

“No.”

Meanwhile, Kazimir’s lover—Emily sat on his other side, watching Rafael and me the whole time. She appeared to be constantly assessing and taking notes. I wondered what she’d written down in her head.

Rafael gestured to Gwen sitting further away and having a low conversation with Louis. “Let’s drop Gwen off first, then go.”

“We wasted time going to the restaurant.” I kept my view on Emily. “I let you both have your break. No more losing time.”

“Ten minutes in my closed restaurant, then a crash and shoot out. That was our break?”

“Pretty much.” I did a big show of inhaling and exhaling. “Do you feel that? It’s rejuvenation. It’s a second wind. I already feel the extra dose of energy racing through my veins.”

“You look like you haven’t slept or ate in twenty-four hours.” Rafael frowned, squinting at Louis lifting Gwen’s hand and kissing her fingertips. She giggled and took her hand from his.

Rafael leaned my way. “You think Louis tried to fuck Gwen yet?”

“What?” I pulled out my phone. “No. Louis’s damn near celibate.”

“He’s been flirting with her all night.”

“The moment he’s overly flirtatious, is the moment when he’s really not fucking anybody.” I dialed the president’s number. “Has anybody found out what Kazimir did with the lions yet?”

“You still think it was him, and not a coincidence?”

“The fact that you asked me that shows you’re not on your game.” I eyed him while the phone rang. “Do you need rest?”

“I do, but you know I won’t take it.”

“You can.” I continued to let the president’s line ring.

Pick up the phone, idiot. Do you want me to believe that no one is at Élysée Palace this morning?

Rafael continued, “If I take a break, you’ll probably fly off to Tokyo and steal the Dragon’s lover too. No.” Rafael shook his head. “At least if I’m around, we can limit the kidnappings to one a day.”

Rafael knew my mind well. The only reason the Dragon and his family were safe for today, was that it took time to go to his island and destroy it. And I had no time for that. Eden was my only mission. After I got her, then everyone else would get my attention.

The president’s line continued to ring.

Pick up or I’ll pay you a visit too.

My eyes burned with exhaustion. I rubbed them and dialed the president’s other line. I was sure Kazimir, had bullied the weak man into pulling back his military.

I won’t leave you alone so pick up.

This time the fool answered. And when he did, nervousness hit his voice. “Hello, Jean-Pierre.”

“Good morning, Mr. President. How’s your day been?”

“It’s been a busy day in the capital, as you must know.”

“Your military had to leave? Did their diapers need changing?”

“Unfortunately, there was a bigger threat in Syria that required our immediate—”

Yada. Yada. Yada.

“Syria is always Syria.” I ended his pitiful excuse. “What happened was that the Lion threatened you?”

“That may have come up, after you kidnapped his—”

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve done.” My voice rose in the limo.

Louis ended his conversation with the chef and concentrated on me.

Emily had never stopped monitoring me.

I gripped the phone. “For these past three years, the Corsican have kept your military fed, clothed, and trained.”

“This is correct, Jean-Pierre. But what good is well-trained soldiers, if there are no weapons for them to use?”

I rubbed the pain throbbing at my temples. “Kazimir threatened to take away all of France’s arms?”

Emily widened her eyes.

Louis glared.

“Yes,” the president said. “And Kazimir added, that if I don’t stay out of this conflict with him and you, I’ll be so desperate for guns and planes, that I’ll be offering blow jobs around the EU. I for one am not good at blow jobs.”