The Palace (Chateau 4)

I held his gaze as the pain engulfed my heart. My eyes even watered a bit, hurt by the mere idea of ever causing him any kind of harm. “I would never…ever…hurt you.” My voice broke, so I stopped talking and shifted my gaze away.

He stared at my face for a long time. “The only way your sister gets out of there is if I’m dead. Surely you’ve come to this conclusion.”

I shook my head. “That’s not the way she gets out of there. There’s another option.” I turned back to look at him.

His gaze was as hard as ever. “No, there’s not.”

“I know you’ll let her go.”

He shook his head. “Never.”

“You’ll change your mind.”

His voice was quiet, as if he regretted having to say the words. “I won’t.”

I stared at him for a long time, seeing a distant softness in his eyes, a glimpse of who he really was. “I don’t know what made you this way, but I’m so sorry that you had to go through it.”

He immediately shifted his gaze to the window, his demeanor turning rigid like the door of an impenetrable vault.

“I wish I had been there for you…”

His eyes didn’t shift. He didn’t breathe. He was stone.

That was his reaction to trauma—to turn everything off and feel nothing.

He wasn’t a monster. He was just…heartbroken.

I left the couch and walked over to him, his expression not changing even when I was right in front of him. My hand went to his shoulder, and I gently directed him backward as I straddled his hips and got into his lap.

He allowed me to guide him, but he still didn’t look at me.

My hand cupped his face and forced his eyes on me.

He allowed that too. He gave up all his power to me, let me cross lines that others would be killed for. He let me speak my mind without punishment. He let me order him to leave—in his own home.

His eyes moved with mine, dead inside.

I brought my forehead to his. “I can see you—who you really are. You’re the man I’ve fallen in love with.”

He pulled away so he could look me in the eye, life coming back to him.

“Je t’aime…”

His eyes reacted instinctively, contracting at my words. A kaleidoscope of emotions filled his gaze, showing the depth of his love, the goodness in his heart. Because a man couldn’t love this fiercely if his heart were full of evil. He couldn’t treat me so well if he weren’t willing to sacrifice his life for mine. He couldn’t forgive his brother if he possessed too much hate. He was a good person—even if he resisted. “Chérie, je t’aime…”

Fourteen

Never Let Go

Fender

She lay with me in bed, cuddled into my side with my arm hooked around the small of her back. Her face was on my chest, her hair was everywhere, and she breathed slowly because she’d fallen asleep almost instantly.

I wondered if she drifted off as quickly when she was alone.

The fireplace was cold because it was too warm for flames. The chandelier above was dimmed to the lowest level, so little light highlighted her face. Her hand was on my chest, over my heart, and I grabbed it and held it there.

A quiet knock sounded on the door. “Sir?”

I didn’t speak because I didn’t want to wake her up.

Gilbert poked his head inside.

I raised my hand slightly to tell him I’d be down in a moment.

Magnus was supposed to stop by tonight. Just didn’t expect him so late in the evening.

I hugged her to my chest then gently rolled her to her back before I left the bed.

She stayed asleep.

I went downstairs and found Magnus waiting in the living room. In silence, I sat across from him and stared at him, knowing Raven was in Paris since he was in Paris. She was staying at his estate, exposed to luxuries she shouldn’t ever get to experience.

I’d thought his betrayal was in the past, but now that she accompanied him, it was in the present—and it was hard not to think about. My love for my brother outweighed my hate, but I did still hate him because of this. “How’d it go?”

His answer was blunt. “I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anyone, Magnus.” Except ugly cunts.

Magnus ignored the insult and told me all the reasons why dealing with Napoleon was a bad idea.

All he ever had were reasons not to do something. I was used to it.

“We have enough money, Fender. Risking the empire we have isn’t worth—”

“That empire can grow into a regime—if we work for it.” I wanted this enterprise to exist outside of France, expand into the other European countries, even into Russia if I could make that happen. It didn’t stop here. When we were big enough, we would take on the Skull King in Italy.