Jean-Pierre let me go and barked to his guards, “Take her up with Louis.”
Oh God. Louis is here too. So far, that’s three of the four I will met—Jean-Pierre, Rafael, and now Louis. Where’s Giorgio?
A guard walked on both sides of me. They all had their guns out. Step by step, I walked into the dining room.
A tall man turned around. He didn’t speak, but he studied me. I took that time to assess him. Tall with dark hair. Just like his cousin Jean-Pierre, but not with the same flare or swag. Brown eyes. Hook nose. Good-looking, but in a thuggish way.
Jean-Pierre walked in.
Louis moved his scrutiny from me and targeted Jean-Pierre. “This won’t end well. You know that right?”
“Let’s not think about that now.”
Louis adjusted his jacket as if he needed to do something with his hands. “I think it’s a good idea to consider Kazimir’s feelings.”
“Fuck the lion’s feelings. Bratva kidnapped Eden. This will be a fair exchange.”
“Fair? You think Kazimir is going to be thinking rationally?” Louis raised his hands in the air. “He’s taken lions out of the zoo.”
Say what now?
Jean-Pierre scowled. “We don’t know if that was him, or if the missing lions are even related.”
“It’s him.” Louis paced back and forth. “Who else would steal lions today?”
Baby, why did you steal lions?
Jean-Pierre gazed out the window. He had his hands in his pocket. Exhaustion covered his face.
Louis yelled out more points. I doubted Jean-Pierre listened as he stared past the glass.
What are you thinking about?
Louis went on. Clearly, no one had approved of kidnapping me at all. It hadn’t been premediated. Jean-Pierre had just grabbed me because he couldn’t get through to Kazimir. Granted, he’d come to Kazimir at the wrong time—early the morning in our bedroom while we were making love.
But, I was understanding Jean-Pierre a little more. He was still pyscho. Although I would kill him for separating me from Kazimir, at least I understood him.
How can I use this to escape?
I kept quiet and studied both men. Jean-Pierre continued to stand stiff by the cold glass. Louis paced back and forth, yelling out possible alternatives to get them out of this predicament. Regardless, Jean-Pierre would not return me, until he had Eden.
Goddamn it.
At least, more information came out of Louis’ arguing.
“Kazimir has somehow grabbed tons of men.” Louis wrenched off his jacket. Wet stains decorated the space around his arm pits.
Jean-Pierre nodded by the window. “The Bratva has people around Paris. It makes sense.”
“These guys aren’t just Russian. Many of them have brown skin.”
Brown skin? Are those my men? They would’ve arrived by now. Good. My baby isn’t on his own.
I held my smile in, and kept the phone hidden within the shirt sleeve.
Kazimir had decided my men should come to Paris last night, and made the order seconds after the decision. Thank God. They’d apparently arrived in time to help him find me, but also to keep him safe.
Boris. Yuri. Lemon. Blue. Help, Kaz. Do everything you can to keep him safe.
Rafael headed into the dining room, eating French fries. Hunger hit me instantly. But I wouldn’t let them know. Now wasn’t the time to get comfortable. I had to focus on getting out of there.
Together, Louis and Rafael got together, and tried to convince Jean-Pierre to rethink what they were doing. They switched to French.
Fuck.
I couldn’t capture any of the words. I had no idea what they were saying. It didn’t matter. The whole time Rafael and Louis sputtered out those foreign words, Jean-Pierre stood by the window lost. For a second, I felt bad for him. For a second, I even felt some guilt for dumping his head in the toilet.
Just when I thought his cousins might’ve been victorious with changing his thinking.
Jean-Pierre shook his head, grabbed my arm, and spoke in English, “I’m not waiting for information. Let’s go. We have to keep moving.”
I rose with him.
He checked his pants pocket and stopped. “Where’s my phone?”
Rafael called after us, “Maybe you left it in the bathroom. What happened in there anyway?”
Jean-Pierre headed off to the bathroom.
Louis and Rafael remained in the dining area as Jean-Pierre, his guards, and I hustled along.
Shit. They can’t find out that I took the phone.
I cleared my throat. “Can I go to the bathroom again?”
“No!” Jean-Pierre roared.
“Please.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “No.”
“But—”
“At this point, you can piss on yourself.”
I hurried forward. Those same three guards rushed to my side. Before Jean-Pierre opened the bathroom door, I crashed into him, slipped the phone in his pocket, and then stumbled back.
He grumbled something in French and then yelled, “What are you doing?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it.
A horn blared outside of the restaurant.
Jean-Pierre looked that way. “Check and see why they’re signaling.”
One guard ran to the front.
Jean-Pierre headed back into the bathroom, stopped, touched his pocket, and pulled the phone out. Turning around, he stared at me.