I would rather walk through the bowels ofKulmiagain than focus on that. That was saying something, considering the amount of alcohol needed to bleach my brain of the scenes my team and I witnessed.
Last night’s hit went off almost without a hitch. No survivors. Sunken boat. No evidence. It was only a shame I didn’t get to toy with the principal target before he died. Didn’t even die by my hand. Fucking Xhafer Bogdani—the man who would have purchased my older brother and me from our kidnappers seventeen years ago and would have trafficked us had Erel nothelped us escape. At least one of Bogdani’s victims gave him as good as she got.
The damn bastard deserved worse. All trafficking cunts did. I may not have been destined for heaven myself, but there was a special circle of hell just for traffickers, and Bogdani was one of the worst. I would have flayed him alive years ago had he not been protected by so many organizations in the criminal underbelly. Their argument was always the same: “He’s never hurt one of us.”
His arrogance finally did the prick in—he shouldn’t have abducted the niece of the New York Bratva pakhan while she vacationed in Prague. They found her body floating along the southern coast of Sicily two days ago. When the contract request came in, I leaped on it despite my other responsibilities.
“This is important, Adrien,” Maman continued.
I held in my scoff. There were far more important matters to focus on. Business came first. My father drilled that into me for over a decade before he passed on, and I took the helm of the ever-expanding Côte d’Azur Milieu. Both the corrupt and the respectable here needed to be chomping at the bit by the end of the day and salivating for a chance to rim our assholes. That was the focus.
Thibault and Alizé, my younger brother and older sister, sidled up beside us.
“Happy birthday, Maman,” they each wished her between hugs and kisses.
Maman grinned softly at them, nudging Thibault’s chin and skimming her fingers through the tips of Alizé’s updo—all actions she knew not to try on me.
“Oh no, Adrien’s mood is soured again. What is it this time?” Alizé gave her signature all-knowing smirk, then tossed back the rest of her champagne. She was bored, which rarely boded well.“Did the stocks drop that low in the last ten minutes? Or maybe it’s just the gray of his suit washing out his face.”
“Nah, he’s not looking nearly irate enough for the former, and the latter’s too plain,” my younger brother teased, tapping his chin. “I’d say either he’s realized how long it’s been since he last stabbed someone, or he’s detoxing from whatever poison someone slipped in his drink.”
I rolled my eyes and swirled my champagne.
“None of the above. Our mother seems intent that I secure a tenant for life.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You are the head of the Milieu. A companion can only do you good. Make you stronger. Give you a purpose outside of business.” Maman huffed a sigh when both Alizé and Thibault cringed at her. “What? I simply believe he would be happier with a spouse at his side.”
“Like Alizé?” I placed my drink on a passing server’s tray. “Should I wed one at random and abandon her too?”
“Wow. To my brother, jackass extraordinaire,” Alizé whispered, low enough no one outside the four of us heard. “May you always exceed yourself.”
“Decorum,” Maman chastised.
Alizé’s empty champagne glass dangled from her fingertips. Her blue-gray eyes were murky from drink, but a glare from them remained just as piercing and sinister as our father’s. She’d challenge me in the sparring ring for this, just for the off chance she got a few hits in. I’d deserve it, this once.
“Bury your hopes, Maman. We all know no one is good enough for our fearsome leader.” Alizé finished that off with a grumbled, “Not anymore.”
With those last parting words, her heels clacked as she plunged into the fray of guests.
Not anymore. I mulled over those words.
Thibault chuckled. “And that kind of drama is the exact reason Adrien and I enjoy being single with action to spare.”
Spoken like the teenager he was. Cheers.
“You both have simply not met the right woman yet,mes choux. When you do, silly reasons will not matter, but for that, you need to be looking. Both of you.”
It would be a long time before I looked at women for more than a quick fuck. I never indulged in the same woman more than three times. Never brought her home. Never wined and dined. No drama, no trouble. Each and every single one knew the score long before I stuck my double-wrapped cock in their warm holes.
None of them would ever beher.
A girl I met long ago when I was a boy. A girl I let go of as a man. It was a match that would never have been possible, no matter how much either of us once wanted it. We had been kids. We had been friends, but ultimately, we were nothing anymore. I made sure of that exactly three years, two months, and six days ago, but who was counting?
“Smile, Adrien,” Maman reminded me. “It’s a party. Let’s mingle.”
No sooner had we stepped down from the dais and past the barrier of my men than guests swarmed the three of us for attention like maggots to a corpse. Immediately, ants crawled over my skin, and bile caught in my throat. Too many people.
Thibault worked his charm. He was young, but there were already a few conniving parents eyeing him with interest. Maman entertained as a good hostess. I forced my way through small talk, glared when some grew too close, shook as few hands as possible, and left business questions hanging unanswered and greedy mothers unsatisfied.
