AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s good and evil in every person,” Max says quietly. “It’s what I was taught, and I believe it. Whatever evil Alexandre did—and at least from what I know, there’s a decent amount of it—there must have been some good in him too, that you saw, if you loved him. You’re not a fool, Ana, even if you think that makes you one. You’re not weak, either—no one could survive what you have and not be stronger than most. So if you loved Alexandre—if you found something to love in him, then there was a reason for that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I didn’t—I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
“But—” Max raises a hand, looking at me with those keen eyes. “You need to think carefully now, Ana, about what it is that you want. What a future you would choose looks like for you—not because of what Liam wants, what Alexandre might want if he were still here, or what the girl who found herself in a Paris apartment needing to survive might have wanted. You need to think about what you want and neednow. Here. If it’s Liam, then there’s a way forward for that. But it will mean leaving Paris, and Alexandre, in the past. You can’t expect him to live his life loving you and knowing you yearn for a man who did the things Alexandre did. It’s not possible. No one can live like that, not for long.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I just—I lost myself there. And I didn’t hate it. It felt good in so many ways. And part of me—part of me wants to go back.”
“What you felt was real,” Max says gently. “But it doesn’t mean that it was love, not in the sense that anyone but you would understand. It was not in the sense that it was right, healthy, or could have lasted. And it doesn’t mean that in the end, the evil in Alexandre didn’t outweigh the good—at least in that moment, when he was tested. We’re all tested at some point,” he adds. “And Alexandre failed.”
“I failed him. I failed his test—”
“No, Ana.” Max shakes his head, and I can see the sadness in his eyes. “You didn’t. No one believes that but you, not even Liam.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Ana—why else do you think you’re here?”
18
LIAM
Igrip the phone so hard that I think I might crack it, a fine, trembling fury starting to run through me as I recognize the French-accented voice on the other end. There’s no question who it is—it only matterswhere, if he’s found us, or if he’s still in Paris.
“How do you know my last name? Where did you get this number?”
“You’re not the only one with connections and means, and you’re certainly not the only one with money,monsieur.”
“Leave her alone.” I can hear the barely controlled anger in my voice, and I’m sure that he can too. “She’s not yours anymore.”
Alexandre laughs darkly. “Oh, but she is. As I recall, I paid a massive sum for her. And you,monsieur? You stole her. You are a thief, a filthy thief, and I’m coming for what’s mine. You would do well to return her before I’m forced to get—ugly.”
“I should have killed you where you lay, back in Paris.”
“True. You should have,monsieur. But you didn’t.” There was a moment’s silence, and then the crackling again, his voice coming through full of static. “Watch your back, Liam McGregor. Thieves get what they deserve.”
The click on the other end tells me that he’s hung up. I lower the phone to my lap, my knuckles white from clutching it, my heart pounding in my chest.
I should have fucking killed him.I don’t have a great many regrets in my life, but not killing Alexandre Sartre when I had him down and bleeding on the floor of his apartment is the greatest of them.
I’m in a grim mood by the time I get back to my apartment building, my head spinning with potential outcomes. I’d known, deep down when I’d left Alexandre alive in the interest of getting Ana out more quickly, that there was a possibility he would come after us. I’d hoped that being in an entirely different country would put enough distance between us that he wouldn’t be able to track me down. Money doesn’t buy everything, and I’d hoped that he wouldn’t have the kinds of connections that would enable him to find out who I was.
Clearly, I hadn’t given him enough credit. I’d written him off as a rich, eccentric pervert who wouldn’t be able to do anything about it once I’d gotten Ana away from him—and it’s very possible that I was wrong, that once again my pride and foolishness had gotten in the way of good sense.
It’s entirely possible that he’s bluffing, that he hasn’t found us. But looking at my phone, my heart sinks. The number isn’t local, but it is from inside the States. And he knew my last name.
It’s enough for him to go on, and I have a feeling that despite my efforts to get Ana away from him, Alexandre is coming for her.
Forus.
I’m so preoccupied with worry over it that I don’t even notice at first that the penthouse smells like dinner cooking when I walk in the door, or that Ana is in the kitchen. I stride in, gym bag in hand, halfway to my bedroom before I hear her voice calling my name.
“Liam?”
She’s standing in the kitchen, a wooden spoon in her hand and her hair atop her head, and she looks somehow both lovelier and more adorable than I would have thought possible. She’s changed clothes since this morning, and she’s wearing a pair of the denim shorts I bought her, so that I can see all of her long, slim, pale dancer’s legs. She’s barefoot, her freshly manicured toenails shiny against the kitchen tile, and the grey lace-edged tank top that she’s wearing clings to her flat stomach and small breasts. I can tell that she’s not wearing a bra, and despite my current mood, a lust so potent rips through me that it’s all I can do not to drop my bag to the floor, stride into the kitchen, and set her on the countertop so that I can fuck her here and now.
Unfortunately, the grey sweatpants I’m wearing don’t do much to hide the sudden, fierce erection that springs up as a result ofthatparticular image.
Ana doesn’t miss it, either. Her eyes flick over me, from the tight white t-shirt I’m wearing to the suddenly bulging sweatpants, and I see something heat in her pretty blue eyes.
