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He released a heavy breath, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

“You have to move forward, Cauldron. Otherwise…this is all there is.”

TWENTY-FOUR

GRAVE

“You need to be careful, Grave.” My father sat across from me in the booth at the bar, a cigar in his hand.

I drew the smoke into my mouth and let it sit there a moment, just savoring the taste before I released it again. I didn’t smoke cigarettes because they didn’t have the taste of a cigar, and they were for pussies anyway. “I’m always careful.”

“Not just going after Roan. But from Karl coming after you.”

“Men are always trying to kill me, Father.”

“And you’ve been lucky up until this point.”

I gave a chuckle before I pulled another cloud into my mouth. “Trust me, it’s not luck.” Camille saved my ass that night. She picked up that gun and fired. That wasn’t luck to me.

“I saw your brother last week.”

“Yeah?”

“He agreed to the four of us having dinner.”

“Four?”

“Including Camille.”

My throat soured at the thought. “Make it five. I’m bringing someone.”

“The pissing contest continues?”

I ignored the question.

“If you need to bring a woman to prove you’re over another woman, then you aren’t over the woman.”

“Thanks for the observation.” I grabbed the glass in front of me and took a drink. It was a quiet night in Paris. Raindrops splattered the windows. The pavement outside was dark. People covered in umbrellas passed along the sidewalks.

“I think he loves her.” He stared at me, waiting for the reaction he provoked.

“I’m sure he thinks that too.” I set the glass down, the burn dripping from my throat to my stomach.

“You don’t think it’s real?”

“I think the high will fade quicker than he realizes.”

“I thought the two of you buried the hatchet.”

“We have.” Camille was dead to me. Now I had a far better woman to keep my bed warm.

“Then why does it sound like you want this relationship to fail?”

“I don’t. I just know my brother. He was only interested in her because of me. Now that he sees me interested in someone else, the victory will grow stale, and so will his desire. He’ll be back to his old ways.”

“I hope you’re wrong. Cauldron hasn’t been happy in a long time.”

“And he’s not happy now.”

My relationship with my father was different from the ones other men had with theirs. Nothing was off-limits. Murder. Money. Sex. It was all on the table. The details were spared, but the subjects were broached. That was why we got along so well.

My coat was sprinkled with raindrops before I got into the back seat of the car. My driver immediately headed to my apartment, and I pulled out my phone and made a call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

A door closed. Noises turned muffled. Her voice returned a moment later. “How can I help you, Grave?”

“Free tonight?”

“I’m spending time with my kids.”

“They’ve got to go to sleep sometime, right?”

A quiet chuckle came over the phone. “I guess I didn’t satisfy you the other night.”

“You never satisfy me.”

“I guess I’m not very good at my job.”

“Too good, actually.”

There was a pause. We shared the silence.

She spoke again. “I can’t leave them alone, even when they’re asleep.”

“Then I’ll come to you.”

“I don’t have clients sleep over.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

She turned quiet.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

To my surprise, she caved. “Come by in two hours. I’ll text you the address.”

I parked at the curb then walked up the stairs to the front door. The lights upstairs were off, but the ones below were visible through the closed curtains. I texted her my arrival then waited for her to open the door.

When she did, she pressed a finger to her lips to hush me.

I entered her living room, seeing an elegant sitting area with white couches and a gray rug. There were pictures on the walls and in the entryway, of a boy and a girl who looked to be six and eight. I didn’t let my eyes linger out of fear it’d make her uncomfortable.

She took my hand and guided me across the living room to a bedroom. The stairs must lead to the second floor where her kids slept. The bedroom was like the rest of the house, decorated with elegance, with classy French taste.

She pressed her fingers to her lips.

I didn’t like talking anyway.

I stripped off my coat and the rest of my clothes, and she watched me with hungry eyes. Maybe it was just part of her job, to act like a woman who wanted to get fucked, but I chose to believe it was real. When I stripped off her clothes, I felt the heat ignite me. With every piece of skin revealed, it was like another log on the fire. I guided her to the bed and sank between her thighs, making myself right at home inside that slick pussy. She was already wet when I walked in the door, so she must have lubed up before I got there or was just ready to go. I held myself on top of her, savoring the tightness around my dick in forced silence.

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