Page 71 of Temptation and Tyranny

“I believe I have something of interest to you.” A pause, then: “Or rather, someone.”

My heart stopped as another voice came throughthe speaker: “Cooper?”

Allegra. The woman who’d walked into my life and changed everything with her gentle hands and quiet laugh. Who’d pieced me back together after I’d been shot. Who’d looked at me last night, the moonlight in her hair, and whispered that she loved me.

“If you’ve hurt her—”

“She’s perfectly safe, Mr. Moreau. For now.” Rousseau’s voice was smooth as aged whiskey, but the threat underneath was clear. “Though her continued well-being depends entirely on you.”

My mind raced. How had they gotten to her? My security detail should have been watching her work and apartment. But Allegra had insisted she didn’t want them directly at the clinic, so I moved them two blocks out.

God, I should have fought her on it.

“What do you want?”

“It’s quite simple. You’ve been expanding your operations lately. The weapons deal with Viktor Petrov, for instance? Most ambitious.” His tone hardened. “Cancel it. Immediately. Stick to your usual ventures—art, perhaps some light drug running. But weapons? That’s not your territory.”

My knuckles whitened around the phone. I remembered Rousseau at the gala, watching me with those calculating eyes as I danced with Allegra. Had he been planning this even then?

“If I agree?”

“Then the lovely Miss…Prescott returns to you, unharmed. If not...” He let the threat hang in the air before the line went dead.

I dialed Viktor’s number as quickly as I could.

“Cooper?” Viktor answered on the first ring. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until Friday—”

“The deal’s off,” I said flatly.

A long pause. “You understand what this means?”

“I do.” It meant millions in lost revenue. Potentially damaged relationships with other suppliers. Maybe even war with Viktor’s organization. Retaliation from the group in Sudan.

None of it mattered.

As soon as I disconnected from Viktor, I redialed the unknown number.

“It’s done,” I told Rousseau. “Now where is she? Tell me, now!”

“The abandoned warehouse onRue de la Croix. 5:00 p.m. Come alone.”

The line went dead. I checked the time: 4:30 p.m.

I spent the next thirty minutes making preparations, my mind replaying every moment with Allegra. Her surprise when I’d asked her to attend Steele’s and Ashlynn’s wedding. The way she’d blushed when I caught her staring at me during exercises. Her genuine concern when she patched me up and pulled the bullet out of my shoulder. The way she loved her cat so completely.

She was the one pure thing in my life. The one person who saw past my reputation, my business, my walls. And now she was in danger because of me.

I don’t think I had ever been so scared. I drove to the warehouse, unseeing. The sights of Paris, the sound of the city…it was dead to me. Nothing was right without her.

The abandoned building’s broken windowsgaped like empty eye sockets, and the rusted metal door hung askew on its hinges. The smell of stale air mixed with damp air. My leg ached but I pushed the pain aside. The weight of my gun pressed reassuringly against my back, though I knew it might be useless. If this was a setup, I was walking into it willingly.

For her. Anything for her.

Rousseau emerged from the shadows, exactly as I remembered him from the gala. Tall, elegant, with silver hair that caught the dim light. He moved with the same lethal grace I’d noticed before, like a cobra waiting to strike.

“Mr. Moreau,” he said, smiling that same cold smile. “Right on time. I do appreciate punctuality.”

“How did you get to her?” I demanded, my voice raw with fury. “I had security—”

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