Page 73 of A Life Betrayed

“The reason he was wiped from the records—that was you, wasn’t it? You were protecting Nadeau, obscuring his involvement.”

“If you took him in—”

The threat hung empty in the air, and she knew he felt it. They both did. The unspoken shift. His one exploitable weakness coming into view.

If they were both here at the airport, then they were leaving together. And to leave with Rayan meant Mathias was willing to give up everything. Frances felt a hard spike in her chest. He was doing what she’d been unable to.

She dug her nails into the flesh of her palm under the table. She couldn’t fucking do it. She couldn’t use Rayan against him.

“I didn’t.”

Mathias set his jaw, his lips pressed shut.

“I closed his case. There was nothing there. Not enough worth pursuing, anyhow. But you, on the other hand…” Frances fixed him with a hard look. “Why did you intervene that night with Truman?”

“I didn’t do shit.”

“You sent Nadeau to get me out. If you hadn’t, I take it I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Mathias said nothing.

“It would’ve solved all your problems—sit back and let the cop investigating you get killed.” She let out an ironic laugh. “Maybe you’re not entirely devoid of decency.”

She thought of Ethan’s words:You win some, you lose some. And then you move on.

If Mathias left, he would be out of Canada and out of her jurisdiction—cut off from the family that had funneled him to power. Perhaps that was enough of a victory. She would still have succeeded in getting him off the streets.

“And I’m not entirely incapable of leniency,” she said. “There’s a list. Your name gets on it, and you’re never let into the country again.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Mathias said in a low voice. “Going on vacation?”

Frances shook her head ruefully. “I thought I had you figured out, Beauvais. Now I’m not so sure. What I do know is I don’t want you here. Which is something I think we both agree on. You leave today, and you’re not ever coming back.”

Mathias leaned back in his chair, returned to his former state of impenetrability, those cold gray eyes meeting hers. “Don’t worry, Allen. You’ll get the next one.”

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Once the inspector had released him, Mathias cleared security and walked to the gate, where he waited to board his flight. On the outside, he remained perfectly composed, but Mathias could barely see straight for the blinding rage that curdled his insides.

They had scheduled separate flights hours apart and arranged a place to meet once they got to the city. Paris he knew well—where to stay, how to navigate the streets discreetly. But it wasn’t safe in the long term. The city was too conspicuous, too well-trodden. He and Rayan would continue north, toward the smattering of small villages along the coast.

Mathias was still reeling after seeing the collection of photos—like an apparition, spirited from his safe and into the glaring light of the interrogation room—and knowing who had facilitated that particular transaction. Yet it was also the reason he stood here now—why Allen had pulled back and allowed him to leave the country. Thwarted by a government focused more on looking good than serving justice, she’d propped the window open long enough for him to escape.

While the end might have justified Rayan’s means, Mathias couldn’t get past the jagged stab of betrayal. Different from Giovanni and Jacques, this one cut deep. He wasn’t sure when Rayan had done it. The thought of him taking advantage of whatMathias had believed to be an immutable trust—one he’d never extended to anyone else—sucked the air from his lungs.

Mathias hadn’t even noticed the photos missing. He’d taken only the essentials from the safe, not registering the disappearance of the envelope, since their plan to leave the city had been fast-tracked by Giovanni’s ultimatum. It came as a rolling series of blows, each betrayal further evidence of how spectacularly he’d failed. After a life lived in eagle-eyed pursuit of his ambition, Mathias had foolishly allowed himself to take his foot off the gas, and everything had collapsed around him like a house of cards.

He was barely aware of getting on the plane or the journey across the Atlantic. At the airport, he hailed a taxi to a large commercial hotel on the outskirts of the city. There, a key awaited him at the reception desk under another name, allowing him access to a room on the fifth floor, where Rayan was waiting.

When he opened the door to the room, Rayan appeared before him, still in his traveling clothes, relief washing over his face. “I thought they’d got you,” he said, letting out a shaky breath as Mathias walked past him and dropped his bag to the floor.

Mathias turned, his voice blistering. “You fucking snake.”

Rayan stepped back, his mouth drawn.

“You took the photos,” Mathias growled, his hands clenching into fists. “And used them to cut a deal with Allen.”

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