Page 70 of Belle Amour

Bastian

“Okay, I think we've seen enough.” Victor stood up and helped Francesca to her feet. “I have a private jet on standby for us all at the Ann Arbor Airport. Maribelle, Bastian, that includes the two of you if you'd like.”

Bastian looked at Maribelle, who was still sitting in her chair, watching Casey scream and throw things at Eddie. “Bunny?” he gently shook her arm.

“Yeah. I think we'll take you up on that.” Maribelle nodded, tearing her attention away from the show and smiling at Victor. “Thank you.”

“Of course, dear. Don't even mention it.” Francesca smiled wanly at her. “Let's get out of this godforsaken place.”

The rest of them stood up to leave as Casey flipped the head table and spotted Maribelle and Bastian. “YOU!” She screeched, and a bottle of champagne came sailing through the air and landed on the floor beside Maribelle. Bastian spun around. Seeing her about to throw something else, he quickly moved Maribelle back behind him. “You fucking Whore!”

“Well, considering you're the one sleeping around, I think you're confused.” Maribelle laughed, which, of course, enraged Casey further, and she started toward them, sitting on the stage and hopping off to stalk across the floor.

Bastian shook his head and rolled his eyes. Leave it to Mira. “Sure, Bunny, antagonize the crazy pregnant woman. Get her out.” He instructed Robert, who nodded and moved to usher Mirabelle out. Eleanor grabbed Maribelle's hand and pulled her in front of her. The others immediately closed around and ushered her toward the door.

“Officers!” Bastian called as a bunch of them finally got into the room. “That woman just attempted to assault mygirlfriend, and she also assaulted her two nights ago at the Weber Boutique Hotel.” Seeing Casey chasing after the Sheas as they attempted to leave, the police quickly moved to intercept her.

“I'm pregnant! You can't arrest me! Let me go!” She yelled, struggling to get free. Bastian could tell the police officers were holding her tightly but were trying to avoid using too much force so they didn’t hurt the baby or her. “Eddie! Help me!”

Eddie snorted and wiped his face. He had a cut over his eyebrow and a split lip from not ducking a plate fast enough. “No, I'd like to press assault charges too.”

“Daddy!” Casey screamed. Bastian turned to see Casey's father helping his wife toward the door. He stopped briefly and looked over his shoulder, watching as the police handcuffed her.

“My wife has gone into labour. I'm afraid you'll have to figure this out alone.” Casey let out a string of curse words and tried to get to them, too, before just sitting on the floor and scream-crying. Finally, the police heaved her to her feet and frog-marched her from the room. Bastian spoke briefly to a police officer, gave him his card, and sent him the security footage the desk clerk at the Weber gave him when he returned for the first aid kit. Eddie was being looked at by a paramedic when he was done, and Bastian turned to leave.

“Hey Bastian! I know you had something to do with all this.” He held up his phone. “I don't know if I want to thank or punch you.”

“Honestly, Eddie, I'm kinda hoping you punch me, then I could do what I want and knock you out, and it falls under self-defence.” Bastian regarded him seriously. “But since I also hope you aren't that stupid, you're welcome.”

“You really think you're better than me, don't you?” Eddie shook his head with a scoff.

“No, Eddie. I know I'm better than you.” Bastian laughed and left the room. He spotted everyone waiting in the lobby, and he headed over to them. “When are we leaving?”

“A car will be here in two hours,” Victor said calmly. “We'll pick you four up at the Weber and head to the airport from there.” Eddie came out of the ballroom and looked around. He spotted them and started to come over. “Excuse us. My wife and I need to have a word with our son before we leave.”

Bastian nodded. “Come on, Bunny, let's go change and pack.”

Chapter Forty-Six: Two

A little over three hours later, they were in the air and on their way back to New York. Victor handed out scotch from the bar and held up his glass. “Here's to this horrible chapter being over.” Everyone raised their glasses, said a resounding “Cheers!” and took a sip. Mirabelle immediately gagged and passed it over to Bastian.

“She can't handle the taste of alcohol.” Bastian chuckled at Victor’s questioning look. “It needs to be covered with sweet things.”

“I'm good; I've pretty much given up drinking anyway.” Mirabelle smiled ruefully as Victor laughed and went to make her a new drink. “How did things go with Eddie?”

“We've told him we are officially done being his bank and handed him over his trust. There was quite a tantrum when he saw how much remained,” Francesca said softly.

“He threw a punch at me, so I had him arrested.” Victor passed Mirabelle a ginger ale and took a seat next to his wife. “I don't think he expected his old man to counter him so quickly, but I guess there's still some muscle memory left from my boxing days in university, and I asked him if I should have covered the costs for all his indiscretions over the years. Of course, he said he would sue, but everything was perfectly legal and agreed upon with his grandparents, who started the trust anyway.”

“Where were they? Weren't they supposed to fly on Friday night?” Mirabelle wasn't upset they hadn't shown, just curious about why.

“Mother wasn't feeling up to it,” Victor replied. “They're almost ninety, and while I think spite will keep them going for a while, their doctor decided they shouldn't fly.”

“Too bad,” Eleanor said airily as she smiled.

“Anyway.” Victor rolled his eyes at his daughter. “Zeke said he would bail Eddie out and convince him to get a place together. His parents cut him off following the country club incident, so he knows how to navigate all that.”

“We also let Eddie know that if the baby is his, we would still set up the trust for them, but reminded him he would never have access or control.” Francesca took another sip of her scotch and sighed. “We reiterated that we don't want a relationship with the child unless he can guarantee that neither he nor Casey will use them as a bargaining chip for funds. Either we have a relationship with no financial attachments, or we don't. There's no in-between.”

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