Page 41 of The Butcher

My phone was on the nightstand, so he must have put it there. When I checked my messages, I saw that some of my friends wanted to get together, no doubt to tell me that leaving Adrienwas a big mistake. Even if he did cheat, his mistress was on the street and I was in the palace, so what did it matter?

It mattered to me.

I finally got up and peed in his bathroom, and when I stepped back into the bedroom, I saw that the curtains were open because he’d joined me. His back was to me from where he stood by the window, wearing workout shorts and sneakers, his entire back ripped and flexed from his workout. He turned to look at me, stopping to give me a once-over because I was still naked.

I stared at him just as hard because his skin was red and his muscles were plump, probably from lifting trucks and buildings. He had a shake in his hand, probably a recovery drink full of a shit-ton of protein. “Morning.”

“Morning.” He took another drink before he capped it and set it on the dresser. He walked over to me and bent his neck down to kiss me as he squeezed my lower back. “Breakfast will be here in a couple minutes. I’m gonna shower.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah. Hungry?”

“I mean…I’m always hungry for pancakes.”

He smirked before he walked into the bathroom. He showered, and I fixed myself up, washing away the smeared makeup that made me look like I had two black eyes. I didn’t want to wear my skirt and my skintight top during breakfast, so I took one of his shirts and put on the pair of socks he’d taken off the night before. They stretched all the way to my knees, black like the shirt that fit me like a loose blanket.

Gerard had set the table in the other room. It was overcast and a little windy, so we didn’t sit on the terrace. I took a seat before Bastien, who was putting on some clothes in his bedroom. I’d just poured myself a cup of coffee when my phone lit up with a text message from Adrien.

I need to speak with you.

Just seeing his name on the screen pissed me off. I was having a beautiful morning with a gorgeous man who gave out orgasms like candy on Halloween—and the last thing I wanted to do was think about the man who wasted my goddamn time.Fuck off.

Fleur, come on.

Go fuck yourself.

Would you rather me show up to your apartment?

We can speak in court when I divorce your ass.

“Everything okay?”

I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. He’d taken the seat across from me without my noticing. He was bare-chested and in just his sweatpants, a fucking man treat, but I couldn’t enjoy it in my annoyance. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” I swiped down and turned on the Do Not Disturb feature because I did not want Adrien to disrupt this morning any further.

Bastien continued to stare at me like he didn’t believe any of that, especially since he’d watched me silence my phone, something he’d never seen me do before. But he grabbed the pot and filled his mug with hot coffee.

I felt compelled to answer the question truthfully, and I wasn’t sure why. “Adrien wants to speak to me. About what, I don’tfucking know, nor do I care. I’m filing those divorce papers, and if he gets the judge to deny it, I swear to god?—”

“He won’t deny it—not this time.” He drank from his mug, enjoying his coffee black while I flooded mine with cream, and then removed the silver dome over his breakfast, poached eggs with grilled mushrooms and spinach and bacon.

“Thanks.”

“He shouldn’t have blocked it in the first place. If a woman wants to leave, let her go.”

“So, if you were in this situation, you wouldn’t fight for her?”

He ate with his arms on the table, taking big bites with that big mouth. “If I fucked around on her, I wouldn’t deserve her anyway. The decent thing to do is let her go so she can find someone who can give her what I can’t. But this hypothetical question is stupid because I wouldn’t fuck around in the first place. Women are not as complicated as we make them out to be.”

“Have you been in a relationship before?” I really didn’t know much about him. The more time we spent together and the better I got to know him, the more I realized I didn’t know much at all.

“Not really.”

“Not really?”

“I’ve had a couple long-term flings, but that hardly qualifies as a relationship.”

“What constitutes long-term?”

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