Page 57 of Temptation and Tyranny

As we sipped our wine, I felt a familiar surge of possessiveness, tempered now with a new resolve. I would keep Allegra safe, keep her mine, but I would also try to give her the illusion of space she seemed to need. As long as it didn’t compromise her security or allow weak men like Gregor to think they had a chance.

“Tell me about your day,” I said, setting my glass down. “Before the...interruption.”

Allegra launched into a story about a particularly challenging patient, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. I listened, captivated not just by her words, but by the passion in her voice. This was the woman I’d come to admire—brilliant, compassionate, and utterly captivating.

As she spoke, I couldn’t help but wonder what had brought us here. From the moment I first saw Allegra, I knew she was different. Special. In my world of darkness and danger, she was a beacon of light. And like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her, consumed by the need to possess her, to make her mine.

It wasn’t easy. Allegra was no wilting flower, no damsel in distress waiting to be saved. She was strong, independent, with a fire that both challenged andexcited me. But I was patient. I wore down her defenses, showed her a world she’d never known existed. A world of power and passion so intense it bordered on obsession.

And now, here we were. She was mine, in almost every way that mattered.

The waiter returned with our meals, the rich aroma of perfectly cooked steak filling the air. As we ate, our conversation drifted to lighter topics—Steele’s newest business ventures, his and Ashlynn’s upcoming wedding…It was...nice. Domestic, almost. A glimpse of normalcy in the chaos of my world.

But even as I laughed at one of Allegra’s jokes, a part of me remained vigilant. I constantly scanned the room, my ears attuned to any unusual sounds from beyond the door. In my line of work, paranoia was less a disorder and more a survival skill. Colton was wrong—I could have my business and have Allegra. I would make it work.

Because in the end, she was mine. My most precious possession, my greatest weakness, my ultimate strength. And I would do anything—anything—to keep her by my side.

As we left the restaurant, my hand on the small of her back, I felt a sense of resolution. Yes, there would be challenges. Yes, there would be men like Gregor who thought they could take what was mine. But they would learn, as everyone in my world eventually learned: What belonged to Cooper stayed with Cooper.

And Allegra? She belonged to me and me alone.

Chapter Twenty-One

Allegra

The sterile scent of antiseptic and lemon hit me as Cooper held open the door toLes Jardins de Montmartre, one of the most exclusive private care facilities in Paris. The lobby, with its hardwood floors and elegant furnishings, looked more like a five-star hotel than a medical facility. But then, given what Cooper must be paying for his father’s care, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“He has good days and bad days,” Cooper said quietly, his hand resting gently on the small of my back. There was an undercurrent of tension in his voice that I’d never heard before. “Sometimes he’s completely lucid, other times...”

I nodded, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch. “I understand.”

The receptionist greeted Cooper by name, her smile warm and familiar. As we made our way to the elevator, I noticed how the staff all seemed to know him, offering quiet nods of recognition. He must visit often, I realized. Another piece of the puzzle that was Cooper Moreau clicked into place.

“He’s been asking about paying for his stay,” the nurse told us as she led us down a sun-filled corridor. “We’ve reassured him, but he gets anxious about it.”

Cooper’s jaw tightened slightly. “Thanks, Marie. I’ll handle it.”

James Moreau’s suite was larger than my apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a meticulously maintained garden. He sat in a plush armchair by the window, a book open in his lap though his eyes weren’t focused on the pages. Despite the obvious signs of his illness—the gauntness of his face, the way his sweater hung loosely on his frame—I could see Cooper in his strong features. His silver hair was neatly combed back from a high forehead, and his hands, though liver-spotted, remained steady as they rested on the book’s leather cover. The same pronounced cheekbones and determined set of the jaw that I’d grown so familiar with in Cooper’s face were there in his father’s, though time and sickness had carved deeper lines around his mouth and eyes.

“Dad,” Cooper said softly, moving to his father’s side. “How are you feeling today?”

James looked up, confusion clouding his features before recognition dawned. “Cooper.” His voice was weak but carried a warmth to it. His eyes drifted to me, curious. “And who might this lovely young lady be?”

“This is Allegra,” Cooper said simply. “She’s...a friend.”

Something flickered in James’s eyes—a moment of shrewd assessment that downplayed his condition. “A friend?” he repeated, his gaze moving between us. “Just a friend?”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks as Cooper cleared his throat. “How about some water, Dad? Are you thirsty?”

James waved off the deflection. “I may be losingmy mind, son, but I can still see what’s right in front of me.” He turned to me, his gaze surprisingly sharp. “Tell me, Allegra, how long have you known my boy?”

“A few months,” I answered, moving closer to the chair. “I was his physical therapist.”

“Ah,” James nodded, then frowned. “Cooper, the treatments are so expensive. I don’t want you working so hard...”

“Everything’s taken care of,” Cooper assured him, and I watched as the tenderness returned to his voice. “Don’t worry about the bills, Dad. I’ve got it all handled.”

“But how?” James insisted, agitation creeping into his tone. “You’re so young...too young to carry such burdens...”

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