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Chapter Twelve
Etienne
The air hangs thick with the haze of cigar smoke, a foggy veil in this den of calculated sin. Claude Badeaux sits behind his lacquered mahogany desk, fingers drumming an impatient rhythm. I stand before him, fists clenched at my side, sweat beading my brow.
My father, as a mafia man, has always looked down on Claude’s biker gang. But I know that Claude is a very dangerous, unforgiving man. If I cross him, I’ll mark myself for death, or at least one hell of a fight.
But I can’t let Lisette go.
"Please, Claude," I implore, words tumbling out of my parched mouth like uneven marbles, "reconsider your decision. Lisette belongs here."
His obsidian eyes narrow, scrutinizing me with the ruthless precision that has made him the most feared man in New Orleans. He leans back in his chair, the fine fabric of his suit creasing like the lines that come and go on his forehead.
"Etienne," he says, his voice a gravelly purr, "you know as well as I do that distractions are dangerous in our line of work. The girl is a liability we cannot afford."
I swallow the bile rising in my throat, my heart pounding against the cage of my ribs. "But she's your niece –" I protest, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions.
"Enough!" He barks, slamming his fist down on the polished wood, sending shudders through the room. "This conversation is over."
My chest constricts with rage, but I force myself to keep my composure. It feels like a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin, yet I refuse to let them break my spirit.
"Understood," I murmur, bowing my head in submission. The word tastes like ash in my mouth, bitter and dry.
Claude watches me, his gaze unyielding as steel. "See that you remember where your loyalties lie, Etienne."
The threat hangs heavy in the air, and I nod, my resolve hardening like granite. I will find a way to protect Lisette, even if it means defying the man I looked up to like a father.
"Of course, Claude," I say, masking my turmoil with a stoic facade. "I won't forget."
"Good." He waves a dismissive hand, and I turn on my heel, leaving the room with a heart full of sorrow and a mind sharpened by anger.
Heart pounding, I find myself outside Lisette's door, my knuckles white as they hover over the worn wood. The air is heavy with impending loss, and I inhale deeply, savoring the lingering scent of honeysuckle that clings to her porch.
"Etienne?" Her voice, soft and vulnerable, reaches through the barrier between us. She knows why I'm here, and yet she bravely opens the door, eyes shining with unshed tears.
I swallow hard, my throat tight like a vise. "Lisette, I –" But words fail me, emotions choking out any semblance of speech.
Her composure crumbles, and she falls into my arms, sobbing. "I don't want to leave you," she whispers against my chest, her warm breath seeping through the fabric of my shirt.
"Shh," I murmur, stroking her hair with trembling fingers. "Claude will ensure your safety out of town. You'll be away from this life, away from the danger."
The thought of Lisette beyond my reach shatters something inside me, but I cling to the hope that distance will keep her safe from the darkness that threatens to engulf us both.
"Promise me you'll find me," she pleads, tear-streaked face tilted up to meet mine. "Promise, Etienne."
"Je te promets," I vow, my voice barely audible. I promise, though I know the weight of such a promise could very well crush me.
In that moment, desperation and longing collide like tides crashing upon a storm-tossed shore. Lisette's lips find mine, her kiss fierce and tender all at once. It's a tether connecting us, a lifeline I can't bear to sever.
