Page 47 of The Carver

He shook his head slightly, looking mad as hell. “If only you knew…”

“Only knew what?”

He looked away, his jawline so hard the cords in his neck popped from the strain. “Nothing.”

I waited for him to answer me because I couldn’t force him to. Even if I put a gun to his head, he was stubborn like our father. “What’s your answer?” I pulled the gun out of the back of my jeans and cocked it. “Are those girls going to go free, or are you going to die in the middle of your kitchen?”

Any other time, he would have called my bluff, pressed his forehead right up against the barrel of the gun, between the eyes. But knowing I’d killed our father in cold blood made him realize I was capable of a lot more than he ever knew. “You win, Bastien.” He’d looked at me like he hated me so many times, but this look was different. It was lethal. “Congratulations…”

Chapter 8

Bastien

Two Years Later

Paris was alive at all hours of the night, but she was the quietest at four in the morning, when even the night owls couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer. The line of SUVs pulled up outside the Louvre, close to the pyramid in the open square. Lights from the lampposts and the buildings were one of the reasons the city had been given its name, City of Light, and it was a name well earned.

The SUV stopped at the curb, and I left the back seat. Snow had fallen the last few days, blanketing Paris in heavy powder. It dusted the statues and sculptures, piled up in the corners of the buildings, away from passersby.

My men formed their perimeter around the perimeter that Godric had already made. Snipers on roofs, men with rifles stationed twenty, fifty, and a hundred feet out. If anyone saw the scene at the iconic establishment, they would assume they had set foot into a war zone.

My boots crunched against the snow as I crossed the empty space to where Godric stood in the light of the pyramid, in his heavy trench coat, a cigar between his lips like he’d made himselfcomfortable while he waited for me to show up. His hands were in his pockets as he watched me approach.

I wore a long-sleeved black shirt and dark jeans, skipping the jacket because I didn’t need that shit. It’d been years since I’d seen him in the flesh. His appearance hadn’t changed at all, but mine was nothing like it used to be.

I was always lean, but I’d bulked up over the last few years and covered the track marks with black ink. It turned into a new addiction, and I got one tattoo after the next, turning my body into a tale of death, loss, sorrow—and revenge. I was bigger than my brother, and I knew he wouldn’t like that one bit.

I stopped in front of him and looked into the blue eyes that were identical to mine but unfamiliar, like he was a stranger. “Nice coat.”

He grabbed his cigar and blew the smoke in my direction, but the wind carried it elsewhere and he missed his mark.

“Did you borrow that from Mom?—”

“You think I won’t shoot you in the fucking head?” He threw the cigar on the ground and stomped on it.

“I’ve been shot in the head before.” My hand moved to the back of my head, just a couple inches behind my ear, where the hair didn’t grow anymore. “Wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

His eyes shifted back and forth between mine, irritated as hell. “When did you become a smartass?”

“The night I fucked your girlfriend?—”

He came at me and swung.

I ducked then blocked his next hit before I kicked him back, and he nearly stumbled ass-first into the snow. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

He gathered himself and did his best to appear unbothered, but it was obvious he wanted to rip my throat out. “Say what you came to say, Bastien.”

I did my best to keep the smirk off my face. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news.” Godric had little birds everywhere, people who reported back to him like my birds reported back to me. That was obviously the reason he’d agreed to see me.

His hands returned to his pockets.

“President Martin has appointed me as the First Emperor of the Fifth Republic. That means I run this city. There are no deals that happen without my knowledge. Only through me can distribution take place, can deals be made, can profits soar. I’ve informed all our previous partners, and they’ve agreed to work with me directly and cut you out of the deal.”

Godric wore his best poker face, but it wasn’t good enough.

“If you want to make money, then you work for me too—and you do it by my rules.”

“No wonder Dad didn’t like you…fucking prick.”

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