Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
He looked away, like he instantly regretted what he’d said. “Fleur, I’m sorry. I just fucking love you, and losing you has made me realize how much. I’m depressed, like you died or something.”
“Our marriage did,” I said. “And it’s time to move on. Stalling the paperwork isn’t going to change anything, Adrien. I’m already with someone else now.”
“That worries me.”
Unsure what that meant, I waited for him to say more.
“You don’t know him, Fleur. You don’t know him the way the rest of the city does.”
“I’m fully aware of who he is and what he does for a living. Because, unlike you, he gives it to me straight. He tells the truth and doesn’t care whether you like it. And it’s fucking refreshing.” No sugarcoating. No gaslighting.
“But you don’t understand the ramifications of his position. A lot of people want him dead—so they want you dead. If you’re looking to move on and settle down with a husband and a couple kids, he’s the worst person you can pick.”
“I’m not looking for anything serious right now. The idea of going down that path makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You should steer clear of him, regardless. Fleur, this isn’t me being jealous. This is me trying to protect you.” His jealousy and anger seemed to have faded away, and all that was left was that sincere desperation in his eyes, like he really meant these words. “He’s a dangerous guy.”
“Bastien would never hurt me.”
“But a lot of people want to hurt him. He’s got a lot of enemies. A lot of eyes on his back. I stick to petty crime, so I’m not fully immersed in his world, but I know shit gets fucking serious. It’s not safe for you.”
“It’s funny that you say that—because you hurt me far more than he ever could.”
Adrien wore the most defeated look I’d ever seen, like my words had struck him harder than a closed fist to his nose. “They call him the Butcher for a reason, Fleur. You’re a smart girl, but you don’t even need to be smart to know that it’s dangerous to live in his world. If you were killed because of it, I’d have to take my own life because I couldn’t live with myself, knowing my stupidity directly led to that outcome.” His voice had lowered with pained sincerity, like he was begging me. “There are a million guys out there, and you’re a fucking bombshell who can have anyone you want. If it’s not going to be me, then please, choose someone else. Someone with a normal, boring, safe life.”
All the anger I felt for him died, just for a moment, hanging on to the desperation in his voice. The way he spoke to me as a friend, as a confidant, not as the ex who wanted me to take him back.
“I just want you to be safe, Fleur.”
I’ll be there in a couple minutes, sweetheart.
I sat at the dining table, still in the same pencil skirt and blouse because I’d gone back to work after finishing up at the courthouse. My job at the investment company was posh and sterile, the office renovated on the inside for a modern look, even though it was inside an old building. The adviser I worked for was married with two kids and an overall nice guy. I hadn’t spoken to Bastien all day, so when he texted me, it was without preamble. He just said what he wanted without caring if I wanted the same thing.
I did want the same thing, but now there was a weight on my heart.
It was heavy with the warning I shouldn’t heed—that I’d left one bad relationship and stepped into a worse one. Worse but for different reasons.
But even if Adrien were right, I wasn’t sure if I would ever have the strength to leave. Bastien was one of a kind, and every man who came after him would just be a disappointment. His memory would haunt me into old age.
He let himself into my apartment a moment later, in a long-sleeved black shirt that his muscles stretched out nicely. He wore black jeans and boots, his blond hair a little ruffled from the wind outside. His blue eyes were on me when he walked inside, a giant in my little loft, his subtle smile pulling at my heartstrings.
My mind and heart were at odds with each other, but my heart won the match, lifting me to my feet and stepping into his chest, five inches taller in my heels so my arms could circle his neck.
His hands went straight for my ass and squeezed as he kissed me, giving me a hot kiss with breath and tongue, his hands yanking up my skirt so he could feel my cheeks in his bare hands.