AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Only this time, I’m not dreaming.
When I get out of these chains—and Iwill—I will kill them.
I draw in a breath and try to remember what happened.
I was outside Le Marquise, near the Louvre.
It was a setup. It was a fucking setup. He had those tourists planted so they could cause a mob scene and take me in.
Clever bastard.
I blink, looking around the dimly lit room and see a pair of polished black shoes. “Welcome, Mr. Gerard.”
I look up into the jowly face of none other than François Montague himself.
Cosette’s father.
The man that would be my father-in-law.
I shudder at my enemy and observe him up close.
On the surface, they look nothing alike.
Now that I know, I can see the slightest hint of resemblance. The subtle turn of the nose and color of his eyes.
Just like hers.
But that’s where the similarities end.
There’s a pronounced hunch in his shoulders, and a greedy, calculating smile embedded in his fleshy face. She is sunshine and daisies, and he’s the charred remains of a forest fire.
Whereas Cosette’s eyes are bright and vivid, his are heavy and cruel. She’s slender and lithe, as graceful as a willow tree. His potbelly sags below his waistline, pinched into pants that are too tight. Her smile is bright and vivid and could challenge the stars in the heavens, and his is a slimy smirk. Cosette’s skin is soft and clear like a porcelain doll’s while his is pitted and leathery.
“What the fuck do you want?”
He sighs and places his fingertips together.
“It’s very clear, Mr. Gerard. I want to be reelected. Why else would I work so hard at ridding Paris of its scum?”
I know he’s baiting me, and I refuse to rise to the bait. The irony of calling us scum…
Though I’m familiar with where I am now, I can see that we’re in a different area. Before, deep in the dark recesses of this basement hovel, there was no light, no noise from the outside. I can still see where they held me, the chair and chains still visible in my mind. But now I can hear the rattle and squeak of something overhead and even see a small window that sheds light on the passing feet of passersby. It takes me a minute to identify the bright blue lights and stone monuments outside the window.
We’re in the basement of the Capitol.
Clever, Montague. Very clever. And damning. If I ever got word to the press about what he does in the basement of this place of government business, he’d never survive it.
The nerve that Montague took me here.
“You had to ask questions, didn’t you?” he says with a shake of his head. “You could have just left. When we began the witch hunt, you could’ve packed your bags and gone off with your friends in Tuscany or America, but no. You had to go after mydaughter.”
Go after his daughter?
“It was easy enough, Mr. Gerard. Let me have my way. The citizens of Paris aren’t interested in riffraff like you being in their historic city. All you had to do was give me my way and let me drive you out of the city.”
No.It’s a lie. He was never going to just drive us out of the city. He wanted us annihilated. He may still.
“But you went and had to perpetuate your rubbish by impregnating my daughter.”
