“No, I’m not talking about civilian law,” he said calmly. “The Fifth Republic is a secret society between the Senate and the people of the Republic. I’m the president of the Senate and serve President Martin directly as a liaison between the gangs of Paris and the government.”
I heard every word, but I felt my stare go blank from trying to understand it.
He continued, like he knew I would have more questions if he didn’t. “The gangs operate in ordinance of the code. Not to involve innocents in their affairs. That means no trafficking. Deals don’t happen in the public eye. No innocent bystanders are killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. In exchange for their cooperation, they’re allowed to conduct their illegal activities without fear of government involvement, likearrest or prison time. That means shipping over international lines isn’t impeded. Everyone’s lives are easier, the prisons aren’t overrun with inmates, and the people of the Republic are safe to live their lives without fear.”
Unable to believe all that, I focused on the seriousness of his face. The confidence in his stare. He’d just admitted that a secret society operated in the capital of France, and it was practically common knowledge. “I had no idea.”
“Then we did our job. When crime was at its worst a few years ago, it affected tourism and our economy. Even local citizens were out less often, not on the street past ten. It had a negative impact on business all across the capital. So, the French Emperors were founded. My predecessor led it for a few years, and when he left, I took over.”
“The French Emperors?”
“The Third Republic was founded by Napoleon, so it’s a nod to his rulership over Paris.”
“Didn’t people hate Napoleon?”
He gave a shrug. “It’s not easy making the hard decisions no one else wants to make.”
Now I understood why he had been so nonchalantly calm and confident when I’d jumped into his car and screamed at him to drive. Now I understood why he’d handed me a wad of cash and had a gun tucked into the back of his jeans. Why his Range Rover was made of bulletproof glass. Why he’d renovated an entire hotel to make his private residence, a piece of real estate that must have cost him at least two hundred million euro. With the staff that served him, he had to be a billionaire.
And that was the reason the Oath couldn’t get me here. They either couldn’t figure out I was staying here, or they wouldn’t provoke Luca to get to me. Either way, I was the safest I’d been since that horrible night I’d lost everyone and everything. “How does a single man police so many criminals?”
“There are four of us. We each have our own arrondissements, but they report to me. Not only do I have all the resources of President Martin, the Senate, and the Republic, but I also have my own private militia at my disposal. And policing is a harsh word because most of them are happy to cooperate. It’s convenient and cost-effective to operate their business openly instead of in the shadows, jumping through loopholes and taking detours to get their product where it needs to go.”
I was still in disbelief. I’d been part of this world, and even I didn’t know about it.
“If your story is the truth, then you’re the victim in a conflict that didn’t involve you. Regardless of the severity of your father’s betrayal, taking out his entire family is against the code.”
“So…what does that mean?”
“It means I’ll handle it.” He remained relaxed in the chair, knees wide apart, his stomach tight and hard even when he lounged on the cushions. “And you’ll be free to move on with your life.”
Was it really that easy? Of all the cars I could have jumped into, I’d jumped into his, and that simple act of coincidence or fate had changed my life. I stared at his handsome face and tried to find the words to describe the feelings swirling in my chest. “Thank you…” I’d never thanked someone so much in my life, in such a short amount of time.
“I’m not doing it as a favor to you. I’m not doing it because I care. I’m only doing it because it’s my job.” He was back to his beautiful stoicism, a man who appeared empty of all emotion. It was hard to believe he was such a passionate lover when he seemed so indifferent the rest of the time. “Because I’d rather you keep fucking me for a place to live.”
9
ALIÉNOR
The next morning, I woke up and got ready for the day before breakfast came around ten. I didn’t know if or when Luca would come by to see me, so I looked my best whenever I was awake in case he stopped by.
Andre entered my bedroom and set the feast on the table before he poured the coffee into a mug and departed. The room immediately smelled like eggs and butter and hot espresso. There was a basket of croissants that flaked just from a stare.
I’d just sat at the table when Luca walked inside.
He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt like he’d just gotten home from work, working with criminals in the streets and making them adhere to the law. His eyes seemed a little tired, but they hardened at the sight of me. His presence was explosive, and he looked like a war general about to demand my surrender.
His mood was different than it’d been last night. Authoritarian. Ruthless. A little angry.
I remained seated, unsure what to do or what to say.
He grabbed his shirt from behind and yanked it over his head before he tossed it onto one of the armchairs.
Now I knew why he was here.
The only direction he gave was a nod toward the bed.
I hesitated, looking him up and down like I hadn’t already seen him naked. From head to toe, he was perfect. Instead of doing the most dangerous job imaginable, he could have modeled for all the high-end brands…preferably their underwear.
