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“I did.”

“The night we met, she was assaulted by one of our patrons.”

Lyam blinks in surprise. “You were here? On the premises?”

Fabien nods.

“Shit,” Lyam mutters under his breath. “Bold as hell then. And you found out and did what any of us would do.”

Fabien cuts his eyes at Gwen and Cosette, but nods. “Yes. Gwen did some research. We thought he was only a regular old patron, no one of note. A tourist here on business. But the information was easy to find. On further reflection? It was too easy to find.”

Thayer curses. “He wasn’t a fucking tourist. Who’d you kill, brother?”

The way they say it, as if it’s just a regular old task they check off a to-do list.

“He gave us a false name, false information. He was a Parisian officer.”

Lyam groans.

“So he didn’t want us to find that out?”

“Maybe. Or he was working with someone and wanted to keep undercover.”

Thayer blows out a stream of breath and shakes his head. “In short, this is a lot bigger than we thought, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.”

Thayer looks at Gwen. “You’ll come with me to L’Ambassade. We’ll offer competitive wages and bonuses for the women that sign on with us and a generous severance package for those that don’t.”

“Are you asking me?” Gwen says warily.

Thayer suddenly looks exactly like Fabien. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Please.”

Gwen lifts her chin haughtily. “Well, then. Fine, yes, I’ll do that.”

A muscle twitches in Thayer’s jaw. “Our offers will extend to you as well, of course.”

Gwen inclines her head. “Why thank you. How very generous. I’m not sure if anything that smacks of master/slave is something I’d be very good at, but I’ll take it into consideration.”

Cosette blinks. “Oh, my. I’m gone one day long…”

Lyam laughs out loud and stands. “I know the feeling. Looks like the rest of us have some work to do. Have we met?”

Cosette shakes her head. “I work here. Monsieur posted bail when I was arrested.”

Lyam clicks his tongue. “Jesus, brothers, we have some catching up to do.”

“Tonight,” Fabien says, dismissing him. “Nicolette and I have to finalize our arrangement.”

I’m a little stunned. His brother was taken hostage, and he wants to send him on his way and talk to me first? I will never understand the way a man’s mind works. Or, more accurately, Fabien’s.

Gwen looks over at me. “Are you alright?” she asks, completely ignoring the way Fabien’s eyes shoot fire at her.

“Of course,” I say. “I’ll join you in a minute.” I sigh. “They aren’t the only ones who have catching up to do.”

The door closes with a bang.

We’re alone.

I feel him breathing behind me like a raging bull.

I need to remember why I was so angry with him. I need to remember what he did.

“Come here.”

I snap my gaze to his.

“I don’t do what you tell me anymore, Monsieur Gerard. We’re not in The Underground now.”

“Oh, I am aware,” he says as he leans against the arm of the sofa. “So you want me to give you your money. Complete our agreement. Then you’ll be on your way.”

And I’ll never see you again.

I hate the way my eyes well despite my bravest attempts to stay calm.

“Yes.” Thank God it’s only one syllable, because I’m confident I’d never be able to keep my voice under control with more than that.

No. No, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be separated. I want to stay here with you.

Where I belong.

I hate the thought of him being with someone else. I hate the thought of me being with anyone else. We maybe had an agreement.

“So you were only doing this for the money?” he says.

It feels like a slap across the face.

“Why else would I do it?” My voice catches at the end.

“Lots of reasons, Nicolette,” Fabien whispers.

No. Not my name. If he uses my name…

I shake my head. I can’t be with him. We can’t be a couple.

We’re as different as two people could be. If I’m sunshine, he’s rain clouds, dark and cold and angry.

But together, we’re sun breaking through clouds after a storm.

No, no, no.

I can’t compromise my principles. I can’t turn my back on myself. I owe it to my sister to come back to her.

“I’ll let you go when your time is up,” Fabien says, walking toward me in a way that makes me take an involuntary step back. “Under one condition.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I say with my chin held high. “I fulfilled my end of the agreement. Now you have to fulfill yours.”

He reaches me. Our toes touch. I lift my head so I can look in his eyes without breaking eye contact.

“That’s what you think,” he whispers, before he reaches for my neck and wraps his fingers around the back, like he owns me.

Owns me.

“But remember how we met, Nicolette. Remember who I am. Remember what I’ve done.” How could I forget?

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