The Palace (Chateau 4)

Fender’s face had burned in my mind every moment of every day since I’d left.

I’d never forget the way he looked at me.

He hated me.

I did what was necessary to keep my sister and myself alive, but I still felt guilty for what I’d done.

That man loved me…and now he hated me.

My eyes drifted to the window, and I stared at the apartment across the street. My neighbor was in his usual spot, on his laptop at the dining table, living a normal life of work and home…ordinary.

Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. You know what the boss said.

He already knew I’d burned down the camp with Raven, but he spared me.

When I’d left with Raven, he’d let me go. Goodbye, chérie.

And when Raven burned down his most prized possession…

He didn’t kill her.

He…didn’t kill her.

I got to my feet even though I had nowhere to go. The apartment was dark because my mind was shrouded in misery. I could make out the furniture and the kitchen from the light that had been left on in the bathroom. “He kept his promise to me…”

Six

A Beautiful Lie

Fender

The camp was back to its former operations.

But working double time to make up for the losses.

Magnus supplemented my salary along with those of the surviving guards out of his own pocket. My distribution partners were promised double their order for the next shipment to make up for their losses.

Magnus hadn’t left the camp in months because he had too much work to do.

We barely spoke to each other.

If he was pissed that I’d emasculated him, I didn’t give a damn.

He didn’t leave me a fucking choice.

I sat in my office with the fire burning. Spring was here, soon to intensify into summer, but I still enjoyed the fire for company. It complemented the burn down my throat from the scotch Gilbert tried to hide from me.

Yes, I was killing myself.

And, no, I didn’t care.

There was work to do, but I’d been at it all day, so I closed my laptop with the glass between my hands, my eyes on the enormous mantel that took up most of the wall on the other side of the room.

Gilbert entered the study. “Sir?”

I looked at him and lifted the glass to my lips for a drink.

He came closer, walking quicker than usual with a flare of urgency. “Sir, Melanie is here to see you.”

I nearly dropped the glass onto the desk. My fingers tightened to prevent the slip. My sip was cut short, and my drink was returned to the surface of the wood. Anger rushed back like an unexpected tidal wave. She used to be the face that brought me peace. Now she was the face that brought me misery. It was still in my dreams. It was still in my thoughts. It was still in the fire that burned right this very moment. “No.” I grabbed my glass again and took the full drink I wanted seconds ago.

“Deny her entry?” Gilbert asked for clarification.

“Yes.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the fire like the matter was settled.

Gilbert nodded then departed.

The last time she’d looked me in the eye on the grounds of my palace, I’d expected a very different request from the one she made. I expected her to admit that leaving me was a big fucking mistake. That I ruined her for all other men. That she didn’t feel safe unless she was with me. That she missed the life I gave her. That she missed being taken care of. That she missed me.

Instead, she asked me to give her something I had already promised.

Pissed me the fuck off.

Now she was probably here to ask for something else—like her sister’s freedom.

Never.

Gilbert returned to the study. “Sir…she refuses to leave.”

“Then she can sleep out there. I don’t give a shit.”

He nodded then stepped out again.

But he was right back inside a moment later. “She’s climbing the gate. What are your orders?”

“She’s what?” I slammed down the empty glass, knowing she was going to slip, fall, and break something. It was dark, and that gate was fucking high. And she had no athleticism or coordination.

He listened to the radio in his ear. “She’s climbing, sir.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I pushed to my feet. “Tell her to get down. Have them open the gate.” I marched out of the study, through the foyer, and out the front door to the roundabout that circled the fountain. In nothing but my sweatpants, I watched the golf cart come around, drop her off, and then depart.

She stood in front of me. Unafraid.

She should be afraid. Now, she was in ordinary jeans and a cheap blouse, her makeup unremarkable. Her hair wasn’t as shiny. She was thinner than she used to be. But she was just as gorgeous as I remembered—and that made me angrier. “What the fuck do you want, Melanie? I owe you nothing, and I will give you nothing. If you came here to get me to release your sister, you’ve wasted your time and mine.”