Page 58 of The Butcher

“I care about your problems the way you care about mine.” A cheating husband and an impending divorce were probably inconsequential compared to the stuff he had to take on, but he still seemed invested in my well-being—and I was invested in his.

He dismissed what I said with his silence. “Are you busy next Saturday night?”

“I think I have a shift at the bar.”

“You have a new job, remember?”

“Oh yeah… But I still need to put in my two-week notice?—”

“You don’t owe them shit. They’ll get another pretty girl to take your spot in a day.”

I still felt bad about taking the handout, but it wasn’t like I was taking cash straight out of his wallet. I needed to move on and rebuild the life that had been taken from me. “Why are you asking?”

He reached for a card on his desk, a champagne-pink invitation with gold writing. “I’ve got this gala at Luxembourg Palace. I’d like you to come with me.” He tossed it back on the desk.

“Do you normally bring a date to these things?” He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to attend parties in the first place, a man who lurked in the shadows with a gun tucked into his jacket.

“No.”

“It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“If you don’t normally bring a date, then why are you asking me?”

“Because I want you to come with me.” He cocked his head slightly as he looked at me. “Is that a problem?”

I stilled at the power in his stare, the way he made me freeze with those blue eyes. “No.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Is this a black-tie type of thing?” I had been broke since the moment I’d moved out. The money I earned went to rent and food. I spent everything I made, and it wasn’t unusual for me to have twenty euros in my account until my next check came in. Thankfully, Bastien offered to pay for everything when we were together because I couldn’t even afford a drink most of the time. But a fancy party like this required a gown and diamonds and designer heels—all of which I didn’t have.

“Yes.”

I gave a slow nod, unsure how to handle this. “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t think I can make it?—”

“Cut the shit and be straight with me. I’m inviting you to a party, and you’re acting like I’ve got a gun to your head. Do I bullshit with you?”

Stuck in the headlights of his stare, I just stood there.

“Answer the question.”

“No.”

“Then don’t bullshit with me.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he managed to be absolutely terrifying anyway.

“I don’t want to make it awkward, but…I just can’t afford that right now.”

His eyes narrowed like he didn’t understand.

“I can’t buy a dress or heels right now. I know how these parties are, and I don’t have the means. I have stuff back at the house, but if I try to get it before the divorce, Adrien will be vindictive and stop me because he’ll know I’ll be using the stuff with you. And the last thing I want is for you to buy me anything?—”

“I’m your man. I’ll buy you whatever the fuck I want.”

A flush entered my cheeks, warmth and terror mixing together to form a cyclone in my heart. Never in my life had I been so scared of a single man, scared of the power that burned right at his fingertips. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that.”

“Like what?”

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