The Palace (Chateau Book 4) Page 3

  They lifted Raven to her feet then marched her away.

  No one touched me.

  “Wait…what about me?” I pushed to my feet and ran after them. “Take me with you!” I wouldn’t be left behind, not when she would be dragged to her fate alone. I didn’t want to live without her, so I’d rather share her gruesome death. “Please!” I grabbed one of the guys and yanked him back.

  He gave me a hard shove. “Bitch.”

  The other guard turned on him. “We don’t touch her. We don’t look at her. You know what the boss said.” He slammed his gun into the other man’s face, making his nose bleed immediately. “Leave her.” They continued down the hallway and to the stairs until they were out of sight.

  I fell to my knees on the floor—and cried.

  I sat on the couch in the living room, arms wrapped around my body, broken down in tears. It was dark now because I didn’t turn on any lights. Raven’s knife was still on the floor where she’d left it. Without my sister in that apartment, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The only thing that remained was her ghost.

  The dead man lay in the kitchen, his blood everywhere.

  Eventually, some of Fender’s men returned and took the body and cleaned up the mess. They didn’t look at me. Didn’t acknowledge my existence. The door was shut like nothing happened.

  Now what?

  I knew the location of the camp, so I could drive out there, take the long road on foot, and find her.

  But there was no camp anymore.

  I didn’t have a clue where they’d taken her.

  She might be dead right now.

  Or she might be alive…and I was just wasting time.

  It didn’t matter how pointless it was. It didn’t matter if he hurt me. He was the only option I had—so I took a cab and headed to the palace.

  The second I stepped out of the cab, the driver took off. Armed men stood on the other side of the iron gate, carrying assault rifles like this was a war zone rather than the entrance of a historic mansion.

  Couldn’t blame him for being scared.

  I was scared too.

  The palace looked different in spring. The lights on his lawn showed the lively flowers and bushes. The lights were on in his bedroom on the top floor, so he was probably in bed right now or watching TV on the couch.

  I was in jeans and a blouse, the attire I’d worn to work earlier that day. The clothes were cheap material with faded colors. My makeup was still on but it wasn’t fresh anymore, and it wasn’t perfect like it used to be. Without the luxuries he’d given me, I was ordinary.

  I took a breath to steel my nerves and approached the gate. “I…I’m here to see Fender.” There were half a dozen of them, all dressed in black with bulletproof vests over their clothes. They hadn’t seemed so scary from my bedroom window, but up close, they were terrifying.

  The men spoke to one another in French before the one in charge stepped toward the gates to speak to me. “Who are you?”

  “Melanie.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  I shook my head. “But please, tell him it’s important.” Now that I was nobody, I couldn’t get to him anymore. He could deny me, and that would be the end of it. I’d have to go back to that apartment alone, accepting that I would never see my sister again.

  He spoke into his intercom in French. “Une femme est là pour voir le patron.”

  A voice spoke back. “Je n’attends personne. Son nom?”

  He pressed his finger into his ear. “Melanie.” Then he listened over the line, waiting for orders.

  Please let me in.

  He motioned to his men, and then the gate opened.

  Oh, thank god.

  A guy in a golf cart pulled up then nodded for me to sit beside him.

  I got into the passenger seat, and we began the long drive toward the palace, around the fountain, the winding road through the gardens and brush, and approached the entrance to his mansion.

  I’d been scared every moment since those men had come to the apartment. But I was far more scared now.

  Because he was there.

  Standing out front.

  Waiting for me.

  On the very bottom step, where his valet would bring his car.

  Shirtless. Black sweatpants. Barefoot.

  It’d been a long time since I’d last seen his face, and his expression made me breathless, because instead of just being scared…I was sad. I was sad because I’d missed his face every day that we were apart. He’d literally just taken my sister out of our apartment…and I missed him.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  His gaze was dark and intense.

  But it was more than that.

  It was fierce.

  Angry.

  Terrifying.

  The golf cart came to a stop in front of him. The driver didn’t look at Fender, keeping his eyes forward as he waited for me to get out so he could drive away. My breath was shaky and I was suddenly weak, but I forced myself to rise.

  The driver took off the second my ass left the seat.

  When the noise of the small motor faded, the only sound was the fountain behind me, the constant splash as the drops struck the surface and the lily pads that floated there. I stood in the driveway while he remained on the step, thicker and bulkier than he used to be, the cords in his arms and neck so tight they would snap.

  His arms hung by his sides, one foot planted slightly in front of the other, but the fury in his heart was palpable. The energy around him burned brighter, hotter, as if he was his own sun. His chin was tilted down so he could look at me, spraying with me bullets from the barrels in his eyes.

  All I could do was breathe, frozen to the spot by that menacing look.

  A minute passed and he didn’t speak. He didn’t blink. His fury had endless fuel because he continued to stare at me like he might snap my neck.

  “Please…please don’t kill my sister.” Every word came out shaky, without the confidence required in a negotiation. But this wasn’t a negotiation. This was a plea. And if I had to get on my knees and beg, I would. “Please…” My eyes watered because the fear overwhelmed me. Life was too hard right now, and my mind wanted to regress and take me elsewhere. It wanted to put me under because this was all too much. All I’d had to do was listen to Raven that night, and none of this would have happened.

  His fingers tightened until his hands were fists, and he released a loud sigh that sounded like a growl from a bear.

  “I know I have no right to ask you for anything—”

  “Were you there?” His voice was deep like the deepest chasm in the ocean, full of terrifying sharks and monsters that lurked beyond our sight. It was deep like a cave in the mountainside. It was deep like the lowest note on the spectrum.

  My hands came together at my waist, using one to stop the shake of the other.

  “Answer the question.”

  “I don’t know what you’re asking—”

  “Did you fucking burn my camp to the ground?” His voice came out as a shout, barking into the night, making the palace behind him shake.

  I dropped my gaze and instantly stepped back at his ferocity. I shouldn’t have come. There was no point. I wanted to lie. The men hadn’t identified me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked. But I just couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.” I kept my eyes down, as if a sword would slice through my neck and sever my head from my body.

  Nothing happened.

  I breathed.

  He breathed.

  Silence.

  When I got the courage, I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

  As if he hadn’t blinked once, his expression was exactly the same, like he was already so angry he couldn’t possibly get any angrier. “I’m sorry…but we had to. What you do is wrong—”

  “Leave.”

  “I know you know it’s wrong. And I know it’s not you—”

  “Leave, Melanie.”

  My eyes filled with tears, cut deep by the n
ame he used. It wasn’t Chérie anymore. “You’re a good man. I know you are.”

  He turned around, his back immense with power, and walked away.

  “Please don’t kill her. Please…she’s all I have.”

  He stilled at my words, standing tall with his shoulders back, his hands tightening into fists once more, knuckles turning white.

  My breath stopped, my lungs full of hope.

  He turned back around, and I had been wrong before; he could look angrier. A lot angrier. “The camp has been rebuilt. She will work every day to earn back every goddamn coin that I lost.” His dark eyes shifted back and forth as he looked into mine, impaling me from front to back. In the darkness, he looked as if he had stepped out of the underworld, his flames invisible because they existed beneath his flesh. “Now, leave—and don’t come back.”

  I went to work because I had to.

  I’d be homeless if I didn’t.

  But I was a worse worker than I had been before, constantly distracted.

  Without Raven, the apartment was unbearable. It was inhospitable, like a haunted house filled with spirits that stared at me as I slept. If Raven was condemned to work at the camp for the rest of her life, at least she would live.

  But she’d probably rather die.

  My only option was to take the road to the camp and try to free her myself.

  They would probably expect it and send me packing.

  There was no probably, no chance that I would ever succeed.

  So, what was I to do? Live here in Paris forever? Go back to America and crash with a friend until I figured out what to do? How would I ever carry this guilt for the rest of my life? How would I ever move on?

  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.”

  Her hands came together at her waist, her mannerisms exactly the same. With bright eyes, she looked into my gaze, giving me a look she’d never given me before. “I want to come home…” Her eyes watered as she let those words float off her tongue on a whisper.

  My eyes narrowed instinctively. It was the confession I’d wanted to hear—just at the wrong time. Months had passed, and I hadn’t heard from her. The one time I did, she wanted something from me. She was an accomplice to her sister, destroying everything I’d built entirely on my own.

  When I said nothing, she winced with rejection. “I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

  “I’m not going to release your sister.” She only wanted me for one thing. Women used me for my money and my dick, but she bled me dry for her obnoxious sister. I wouldn’t bleed another drop. “Not now. Not ever. Go home.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking you—”

  “I’m not stupid, Melanie. You insult me.”

  She instinctively shifted back at my vile words. “I left with her because I had to. If I’d stayed, I never would have seen her again. She wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d chosen to be with you. I didn’t have a choice—”

  “You told me that you would stay even if
you could leave.”

  “And that was the truth. I’d never expected Raven to get out, and when she did, it changed everything.”

  “That’s the difference between us, Melanie. You break your promises. I don’t.” I stared her down hard, flooding her with hatred, before I turned back to the house. “It doesn’t matter if the circumstances changed.”

  “Fender.” She came after me and grabbed my arm.

  I twisted out of her grasp as I pivoted back to her, my hand now on her wrist. All of it happened quicker than she could even blink. “Leave.” I pushed her hand off me, ignoring the electrical impulse that zapped my hands and traveled all the way to my brain in a nanosecond.

  With heartbroken eyes, she stayed. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me. You’re the reason we were in that camp in the first place. You’re a drug lord and a murderer. And yet, I’m absolutely lost without you…” Her eyes overflowed with tears.

  I hated it when she cried, but that wasn’t enough for me anymore.

  “I’ve spent the last month dreaming about you. Missing you. Every time Raven asked about you, I didn’t say anything…because she would hate me if I told her the truth. She would never look at me the same if I told her that it broke my heart to leave you.” Liquid diamonds streaked down her cheeks and reflected the sconces outside my palace.

  My expression hadn’t changed. “I’m not going to release your sister—”

  “I’m not asking you to!” Her voice rose in a scream. “I’m asking you…to let me come home. I can’t live in that apartment by myself. I can’t go to work every day and focus. I can’t go on dates with men I’m not even interested in—”

  “Melanie.” I shut her up with just the slight raise of my voice. “If all of that were true, you would have come back sooner, not when you want something from me. You were here a week ago, and you didn’t want me.”

  The tears continued to drip down her cheeks, to her chin, and then drop to the cobblestones underneath her.

  “You only want me because of what I provide for you. That was fine before, but not anymore. Not after you left me. Not after you burned down my camp. Not after you betrayed me.” Every day without her was more painful than the last. Every night with another woman was unsatisfying. Every breath I took without her taking the same breath beside me was wasted. While I still wanted her, even after all this time, it wasn’t enough. I gave her a final look before I turned around and walked up the steps.