I wondered what else she was good at.
Carvel changed the subject. “Dividing the arrondissements among four isn’t that much different from five, and since we don’t have anyone in mind to replace Bastien, I think we should keep it as it is.”
“I agree.” In order to police all the gangs in Paris, we had to divide and conquer. I couldn’t be everywhere at once, not when I had my responsibilities with the Senate. I had to report to hearings just like every other member as the president, now that Raphael had stepped down. Most of the legislature didn’t apply to me, but I was still expected to understand the government as well as President Martin. Bastien had been better at the mingling and the small-talk bullshit.
I was the worst at it.
One of the guys came from the hallway that led to the front of the building. “Godric is here.”
“Send him in.” I moved to one of the tables in the corner, the cigar still in my mouth. By the time I sat down, he had entered the room. Like me, he didn’t make small talk, so he ignored everyone and made a beeline for me.
He dropped into the chair across from me, crossed his legs, and then took his time pulling out a cigar from his pocket and lighting up. The only similarity he shared with Bastien was in their appearance. He also had blond hair and blue eyes. But beneath the surface, they were nothing alike.
Godric and I had matching vibes, but I still preferred Bastien over him.
He smoked his cigar for a while, relaxed in the chair like he was seated in front of his fireplace at home. We were in an old, gutted business with fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Everything was bare. The floors had been ripped out, so it was concrete beneath us.
“What have you heard?”
“Not much,” he said. “People are careful around me now. Know I’m a snitch.”
“A snitch is someone who fakes loyalty to learn secrets to share with the enemy. Your loyalty is public—so you aren’t a snitch.”
He gave a slight shrug. “That’s an eloquent way to put it.” He released a cloud of smoke from his mouth while he held the cigar with a relaxed wrist. “There’s still uneasiness in the 18th and 19th arrondissements. Regardless of your power and ability to enforce the Fifth Republic, there will always be resistance. You know I’ve halted my trafficking business in the last six weeks, and as a result, it’s hurt business in every corner.”
“Expect no pity from me.”
“I feel none either,” he said. “I’m only reminding you of the dissent that many feel right now. Their wallets are being hurt and their businesses strained. Finding labor to replace those girls is a task in itself. Even without fear of retribution from the government, their positions are still dangerous and not guaranteed.”
He was both eloquent and pedantic, sounding more like a professor than a criminal kingpin. Couldn’t be more differentfrom Bastien, who was so blunt it was like the back of an axe to the head.
“There’s quiet on the front right now, a vacancy I left behind, and I assure you someone else will take it right under our noses. There will never be a time when all of Paris is united under the Fifth Republic.”
“Then we’ll have to remain one step ahead.”
“Youwill have to remain one step ahead. I adhere to the Fifth Republic that my brother has worshipped like a cult, but that doesn’t mean I’m obligated to defend it.”
“If that’s true, why are you feeding me information?”
He took another slow puff of his cigar before he let it out, letting the question simmer. “My brother told me you’re his replacement. That because of you, he’s able to focus on what really matters. So, he asked me to treat you the way I would treat him. To watch your back with one finger on the trigger.”
7
LUCA
I checked in with the receptionist before one of the armed men escorted me inside President Martin’s office. It was a beautiful day, sunshine in a cloudless sky, and the light hit the trees in Luxembourg Gardens just right. Reminded me of Bastien and Fleur’s wedding ceremony on the grounds—under the eyes of the Fifth Republic.
Bastien believed in the Fifth Republic the way others believed in God.
President Martin finished firing off a text from his phone before he acknowledged me. “Luca, let’s talk.” He rose from his desk and came around to my side before he shut the door to his office. “My popularity among the Senate and the people has never been lower. I need some good news.”
It had been brought to his attention that the treasury hadn’t foreseen the expanse of the population over the decades, that there simply wasn’t enough funding to supply retirement benefits for the civilians after twenty-five years of service. It had to be extended to thirty years, and the second that was suggested, the city was in an uproar. Organized strikes were onmany streets. Farmers were refusing to work. Waitstaff walked out of the restaurants. Chefs left hotels.
“I don’t have a choice, but people act like I do.”
This was why I preferred emperors to presidents and prime ministers. Their word was law—and they got shit done. Republics gave the people too much say, especially when they only thought about themselves rather than the prosperity of the many. Republic had a much different definition to me than it did to everyone else. “They’ll get over it.”
“Having to work for another five years isn’t something people just get over.”
