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Forgive.
I can forgive her.
I did forgive her.
We all can.
“Alright, so when life gives you lemons,” Fabien begins.
“You get out the goddamn vodka,” I supply. Maman’s expression. Triple sec, vodka, lemon juice and a simple syrup make the lemon drop, her drink of choice.
“So we move on, and we know exactly what to do. Talk to our informants. Prepare for an attack from whoever the fuck Montague’s paid, and act accordingly.”
“Exactly.”
Rousseau, one of our top-paid informants on the police force, knows exactly who’s doing what and hasn’t led us astray yet.
“I’ll contact her in the morning. Thayer, probably best you get in touch with one of our lawyers.”
We need a lawyer ready should Montague want to do more than blow smoke up the asses of the Parisian citizens. It can’t hurt.
I hear stirring in the other room, and when I look up, Cosette stands in the doorway, a blanket draped around her slim figure. “Lyam?”
I hold up a finger to her. “I gotta go. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone before my brothers can distract me again.
I’ve known plenty of beautiful women in my time, but Cosette stands in a class all her own. She’s a one-of-a-kind masterpiece, slender and graceful. I can lift her with one arm and hold her, and it takes no effort at all to physically dominate her.
Dominating her mind is a whole other story. You don’ttakesubmission from a woman like Cosette. You earn it. It’s part of her nature to serve. It’s who she is.
I toss the phone on the desk and look at her. We stare at each other in silence. I’m tired and weary, but a new kind of energy wakes me up when I look at her.
Twilight has fallen outside the window, pastel blue light kissing her shoulders. Her blonde hair’s messy but beautiful, the soft curls framing her pale face like a halo.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, my voice husky.
“Thanks,” she whispers, looking down as if she’s embarrassed. “Who was that?”
“My brothers.”
Worry creases her brow. “And what did they say?”
I shrug. “Thayer has understandable concerns. I told him I think you need to talk to Savannah.”
She bites her lips but nods. “Yeah. It won’t be fun, but it has to happen.” She shakes her head, worry creasing her brow. “I feel so terrible about what I did.”
“Shhh.” I cross the room to her. “You know I wouldn’t let this go if I wanted you to still pay for this.”
I watch the worry in her eyes fade but not disappear.
“It was the shittiest thing to do,” she says, shaking her head.
“And what choice did you have? It was our fault our enemies had anything to do with this. They shouldn’t have come anywhere near you.”
“I didn’t know mercy was in your vocabulary, Lyam,” she says with a wan smile.
I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ears. I frame her face in my hands and kiss her forehead. “Mercy and justice go hand in hand. In my family, we focus on justice first. Loyalty. And mercy’s rare but sometimes necessary.” I sigh and kiss her again.
