Breaking the Beast (Seven Ways to Sin 5)

Jacques rose to his feet, jostling the table. Several of us reached out to steady our water glasses. “This is absurd,” he said. “It will never work. But if you all want to waste your time, far be it from me to stop you.” With that, he stormed out.

Vincent half rose to follow him, but Bernard caught his eye and shook his head slightly. “He’ll calm down,” Bernard said with the assurance that came from several decades of close friendship. He turned to me. “Étienne, are you sure about this girl?”

I nodded. “She’s not like the last one. Just look at her.” I handed Bernard my phone, and the rest of the men crowded around his shoulder to look.

Alexandre let out a low whistle. “She is something,” he said, reaching for the phone. Bernard knocked his hand away.

“She’s a former substance abuse counselor. Sober,” I said, and Bernard nodded appreciatively. “She recently published an article on a horse trainer out in Wisconsin that’s generating some buzz. She is an excellent writer, and, if nothing else, I think her piece on Jacques would be fair and compelling.”

Bernard nodded slowly, handing my phone back to me. I took one last glance at Isabel before pocketing it. “She does sound promising,” he allowed. “And she’s agreed to this?”

“She has,” I said. “I just heard from Bonita, the magazine editor, tonight.”

Bernard was silent for a long while. I held my breath. I knew how much he worried about Jacques, but I prayed that he could see that allowing Jacques to continue to lock himself away could be just as harmful as pushing him out into the world.

“All right,” Bernard said finally. “It’s worth a shot.”

Raphael let out a muted cheer, which was quickly hushed.

“On one condition,” Bernard said. He pointed to me. “You have to be the one to tell Jacques.”

4

Jacques

This is ridiculous. It will never work.

They’re fools for trying, and you would be a fool to get your hopes up. Confused thoughts swirled through my head as I stormed out of the dining room. As I slammed the door behind me, an antique tea set rattled on the hall table. I slowed. One of the cups was already chipped from a previous tumble, and I didn’t want to risk shattering the rest.

My feet carried me, seemingly of their own volition, to the aviary, and I grabbed the basket of stale bread that Isiah always kept stocked outside the door. He knew I liked to feed the birds while I sorted through my thoughts. Something about the birds’ constant whirling movement around me made me feel like the calm in the middle of a storm. I so very rarely felt calm.

Birds scattered as I entered the room, then edged closer as they recognized me. Breaking off a corner of the hard, stale bread, I began to scatter breadcrumbs. “Dinner time,” I said under my breath. “Come and get it.”

Perhaps I shouldn’t have stormed out of dinner the way I did. I was sure my men were talking about me now, probably worried. But I couldn’t listen to Étienne any longer. I couldn’t believe he could even think to try this again, after what had happened last time. What was that girl’s name? Brittney? Bernadette? Bridget, that was it. Stupid girl, more interested in my wealth than in me.

I thought back to her last day in the castle, when I had finally, finally gotten up the nerve to try to touch her, and she had flinched and pulled away, an expression of barely disguised disgust on her face. In that moment, she had looked so much like Agatha that I had snapped and… Well. Let’s just say that it was a good thing Bernard had had the girl sign an NDA before she arrived.

And now they wanted to do it again. After all that. More fools them. I washed my hands of it. Women weren’t for me. Agatha had shown me that, and Bridget had driven it home. I had learned my lesson now: The only thing I had to offer a woman was money, and I could think of a thousand better uses for my wealth than throwing it away to keep a girl happy.

With that thought, I threw the final bit of bread to the ground. One of the smaller birds—a finch, maybe, Raphael would know—hopped towards it, but was chased away by a larger bird. No dinner for him tonight. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t finished my dinner, either. I would have to raid the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. Isiah usually left something out for me in the evenings. He knew I didn’t sleep through the night.

The sun was beginning to set, so I went to the window to watch it. The floor-to-ceiling windows of the aviary gave me an excellent view of the grounds, and I spent a good many of my evenings up here. Autumn was my favorite, when the leaves began to change and their fiery colors reflected the flame of the setting sun.