Page 116 of Angel Eyes

“Good luck with that.” I took a step toward the door, but she blocked my path. “Move.”

The tiniest glimmer of anger slipped past her mask of composure. “Why? So you can run back to your little girlfriend with the doe eyes?” She clicked her tongue, sliding her fingers through her shoulder-length hair. “A bit innocent for you, isn’t she, Gabriel?” She stepped closer, and my jaw set in a hard line when she placed a hand on my chest. “Is she really enough for you, mon cher? I know how rough you like it in bed. Does that petite fleur truly satisfy your needs?”

I snatched her wrist away. “Do not touch me.”

Her smile widened, as if this whole scenario was some fucked-up version of foreplay. “You used to like it when I touched you. You used to like it a lot.” She drew her hand back, but otherwise didn’t move, effectively barricading me against the sink. “We could have that again, you know. We could pick up where we left off. It could be like the last three years never happened.”

“You’re out of your mind. Why don’t you just tell me what you really want?”

She looked taken aback at my bluntness, and her eyes sharpened like she was seeing me clearly for the first time. “Very well. I want to offer you a business proposal.” She folded her arms, pacing in a semicircle. “I have given a decade of my life to this restaurant. I know it inside and out—every line item, every detail. That is why I know it has the potential to be so much greater than it is at present. With my connections and expertise, we could build it into a global empire.”

Her gaze cut to me expectantly, but I simply stared back at her with cold eyes.

“I know Lucien has similar aspirations for the business,” she continued, “but he’s inexperienced and could never accomplish what I can. I’ll admit, he oversaw the opening of the Paris restaurant with reasonable competence, but I’m the one who can turn Marcel’s into a multibillion-dollar enterprise across several continents.”

“Well, you certainly have the ego for it,” I gritted out. “But I fail to see why you’re telling me any of this. If you’re so confident in your abilities, why don’t you just do it?”

“First lesson in business, Gabriel—if you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure my father pays you well enough, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

She turned to me, her expression serious. “A salary, yes, but I want more than that. I want equity—a share in the profits. Marcel has always been adamant about keeping ownership of the business solely within the family, but he’ll have to hand over the reins sooner or later. And when he does, I want my cut.” She moved into my personal space again, her sickeningly sweet perfume turning my stomach. “Grant me a portion of the shares, Gabriel, and I promise I’ll make you a very rich man. You’ll never have to sell another painting again.”

Christ. I was going to be sick.

After everything we’d been through, the fact that Elise actually thought she could seduce me, that she could buy me, catapulted my rage to new heights.

“Sorry, but you’re talking to the wrong cousin. Why don’t you go get on your knees for Lucien? If memory serves, you used to be good at that.”

She recoiled, giving me a look that I might have mistaken for shame if I didn’t know what an expert manipulator she was. After all, she’d strung me along for years, using me as a pawn to control my father. And now here she was again, trying to find a way to get her hands on his legacy. On my legacy. Or what used to be mine anyway.

“Marcel will never pass the business to Lucien. You are his true heir, Gabriel.”

“Except he disinherited me,” I said, eyeing her with disdain. “I’m sure you remember that well enough.”

“Anger causes people to say things they don’t mean. There aren’t many people who can rile up your father, but you are his son, and his love for you is his greatest weakness. He let his emotions get the better of him, and he has regretted it ever since.”

No part of me was prepared to hear this, least of all from the person who had betrayed me more than anyone else. “What gives you the right to speak on his behalf? Do you think I’ve forgotten how you stole from him? Hell, you’re trying to steal from him now. Cornering me in a bathroom and trying to whore your way into an allocation of the profits. I would rather see my father’s restaurant go back to being a seaside shack serving poutine to tourists than to gain global success with you at the helm.”

She huffed. “Oh, Gabriel, you always were so dramatic. But once you’ve had time to think it over, I’m sure you’ll see the sense in my proposal.”

“Yeah, I seriously doubt that. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“You’re going to have to decide sooner or later, and you may not have as much time as you think. Marcel has been meeting with his lawyers, and I know he’s planning to name you as his successor. Do you think it’s a coincidence that you’re here tonight?”

I stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about? My girlfriend brought me here to celebrate my gallery opening, not that it’s any of your business.”

She hummed, her eyes glittering in a way that made me uneasy. “Is that so? A naive American who barely knows one end of Paris from the other somehow is able to secure a reservation, and a VIP table no less, on opening night at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city.” She smirked. “I do wonder how she managed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you have something to say, spit it out.”

She retreated a step, allowing me space to pass, but I hesitated. She knew something, and I wasn’t leaving until I found out what it was.

She gave me an almost pitying smile. “While you ruminate on whether to accept my offer, just know I very well may be the lesser of two evils. After all, how much do you trust Lucien? If you’re not careful, mon cher, he might take more from you than he already has.”

My stomach curled in on itself, and it was all I could do not to vomit in the sink.

Juliet.

---