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“Not in the least. Not only am I about to kick you out, but now I have to find a new driver. We both know how hard they are to come by.”
Pierre has the nerve to flinch from the driver’s seat.
“I’m not getting out until I know.” His throat bobs. “Is she alive?”
“She is.”
“Thank god.”
“She’s still going to die, Brute. Don’t mistake what I’m saying. You still haven’t produced the ring, and I need her as leverage.”
He reaches into his pocket, handing me a box I’d know anywhere. I’ve thought about this moment since I was a young boy. I just knew there would be a sense of peace that came with finally having the ring. I didn’t expect to feel nothing. In fact, it’s kind of anticlimactic.
“There. Now do something good for once in your life and let her go.”
“No can do. You’ve been balls deep inside of that pussy. You know how good it is.”
“You bastard.”
I laugh. “You’re as much of a bastard as me, in case you’ve forgotten. Now get the fuck out of my vehicle before I forget the clause that says I can’t blow your head off.”
He stares at me before opening the door. “Don’t think this is over.”
“It was over the moment I laid eyes on her.”
Tapping the roof, Pierre finally does what he’s fucking supposed to and drives. Reaching for the box, I open it. I never doubted that the ring would be in here. Even Henri isn’t that stupid. The ring sits on a velvet pillow that’s faded. It’s strange—when I was a kid, I’d look in this box and think how fancy it was. How Grandfather must have spent a ton of money when he bought it for his first wife.
I know the truth now. He didn’t buy the ring; he stole it on the same night he stole our grandmother. He forced her to wear the ring, a sign that she was his property. After she gave him his first heir, he made her take part in the hunt and killed her in the end. His second and third wives met similar fates, though I’ve heard rumors he held onto the third wife longer than the rest. Her son was Maurice’s father. I’ve often wondered if that’s why he was so hard on Maurice growing up. Because he looks like his dad, which means he must resemble his grandmother a bit, too.
My father was the first son born into the family. He lived a life much like Grandfather and stole a bride, who also wore this ring. My mother. Only, he never got a chance to have her take part in the hunt. My grip tightens on the box. Grandfather suspected that my father was plotting against him, or so he claimed, and removed him from the picture after it was confirmed that a male heir was on the way. Me.
Mother spent the rest of her life in a cage very similar to the one Dove is in. Once I was born, she was taken out back. Grandfather never told me the specifics, but she never made it back into the house. Henri’s father was now the next in line for the throne. Following in my father’s footsteps, he picked a bride and gave her the ring. But he met the same fate as his brother as did Maurice’s father. Their wives each died after giving birth. Maurice once told me he thinks his mother and father are together in the afterlife. I simply laughed at the notion.
We grew up under the firm hand of Grandfather, knowing what was expected of us one day. We were to find a bride, produce a male heir, and then enter our brides in the hunt. I’m not naïve—if Grandfather were still alive, there’s a very good chance I’d already be dead. He’d say that I was planning to overturn him, and he would have been right.
Lifting the ring, the ruby rose sparkles in the light. Henri probably thinks that I plan to marry Dove, and that’s why I wanted the ring. Marriage is the last thing that I want, and I have no desire to produce an heir. No, this ring means so much more. It means that I’ve finally beaten Grandfather at his own game. The hunt will stop with the three of us, and our fucked-up legacy will die when we do. As long as Henri and Maurice don’t try to rally against me, then we’ll all live long lives. Something none of us thought was possible.
So why does the thought of Dove wearing this ring make my dick throb?
Cursing, I place the ring in the box and snap it shut.
“Take me to Hôtel de Lumière.”
I’ve been neglecting the hotel, and it’s time to rectify that. The staff are surprised to see me, which makes me think they’re hiding something. I bypass them, going to the manager’s office. He’s on the phone and pales when he sees me.
“I’ll call you back.” Dropping the phone on the cradle, he stands. “Mr. Di Bello. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“So I can see. Tell me, Stanley, what are you hiding?”
He pales even more. “Nothing. I swear.”
“You know what the punishment is for lying to me,” I warn him. “Sure you want to go with that answer?”
“I have done nothing except my job, Mr. Di Bello.” He swipes at a piece of hair that’s fallen across his forehead. “Guillaume D’Arque stopped by a few nights ago, but we made sure he left.”
“D’Arque was here, and no one thought to call me?”
My fist clenches and I have to fight the urge not to punch Stanley. D’Arque may be the only man with big enough balls to openly challenge me. And he was here? Why?
