Page 24 of The Emperor


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“Not really.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Telling people what to do and getting shit done is different from what we are doing now. Finding something to say just to fill the dead space between us.”

“I’m not filling dead space,” she said, her tone rising a smidge. “Iwantto know you.”

“Why?”

Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “Because I like you.”

“You like me?” I asked, slightly incredulous.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I smirked slightly, thinking about the indignant shit I’d been called in the past—and rightfully so. I’d never cared aboutanyone but myself. Even when I was straightforward with my intentions toward women, I was still cruel when they grew attached. I handled their fragile feelings like rocks instead of glass.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she repeated.

My stare had drifted elsewhere at some point, and I brought it back to her. “The Oath will no longer hunt you. You’re free.”

Her focused stare quickly morphed into one of confusion. Both eyebrows rose, and the color of her eyes seemed to deepen with the change. “What do you mean?”

“I handled it,” I said. “That’s what I mean.”

She blinked not once but twice, tilting her head slightly like she was in disbelief. “I’ve been dealing with this shit for eight years, and you just make it go away overnight?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been on the run for eightlongfucking years, and now it’s just over?”

Eight years she’d been living this way? Sleeping with one eye open, looking over her shoulder every time she crossed the street, scared enough to jump into a car with a stranger when she was pursued.

“How?”

“Because I said so.”

She remained in disbelief. “How do you know they aren’t lying? How do you know?—”

“I give you my word. I made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that if they pursued this hit, they may as well make me a hit too, because I’d come for them with all the resources of the French Emperors and the President of the Senate. They chose wisely. They will report that they shot you in the shower and stuffed your body in an oil drum before they shipped it overseas. It’s done.”

She’d been sitting upright, perfectly straight, but she suddenly sank into the cushions of the couch. Her legs crossed, and her elbow propped on the armrest, her fingers moving over her mouth as if she were silencing a quiet gasp. Her eyes were elsewhere but unfocused, as if the invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she didn’t know what to do.

She just sat there, staring at nothing, her beautiful face pale like I’d given her bad news rather than good news. Then her eyes started to mist, the reflection of the light more potent in the reflection. Her fingers immediately curled over her lips to hide their tremble.

I would normally look away, deeply uncomfortable by a crying woman, but my eyes never left her face.

She suddenly took a deep breath and sucked in all of her emotion with it. Brought herself back to calm. Put the bubbling champagne back in the bottle and recorked it. This was the moment when she would normally thank me, but for some reason, she didn’t. “I guess I can leave now…” After she had her moment, she composed herself, her neck straight like her spine, and looked at me once more.

“There’s no rush.” I should kick her out of my space because she wasn’t my responsibility, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think them through. I should want herout of my life because she’d been nothing but baggage to me, only a nuisance, but as I sat there and watched all the different emotions flood her face at once, I was fucking transfixed. I’d never seen a woman conquer her emotions by sheer will alone. Never seen a woman so vulnerable and so strong at the same time. It was like a play at the opera house, a maestro of the stage giving the greatest performance of her career. The performance was a production, but the emotions were real.

“I’ve taken enough of your hospitality.” Her eyes swept over the room like her belongings were strewn everywhere, when she only had some clothes that Andre had provided her. Or perhaps she was saying goodbye to the space she’d occupied for such a brief time. “I’ll collect my things.” She made good on her word and immediately started, grabbing her laptop from the coffee table and stowing it in the protective sleeve. Then she stood up and stepped away from the sitting room, getting to work like I’d demanded her to leave this very moment.

It took her less than five minutes to stow everything in the two bags she’d arrived with. She only had clothes and her toiletries from the bathroom. A strap was over each shoulder, and she looked around the room one last time before she turned to me.

I was still seated in the armchair, the sunlight from the open windows reaching all the way to my chest. I moved to her and grabbed both of the straps from her shoulders.

Her eyes softened slightly. “You don’t have to do that.”