Page 42 of The Saint

“Because men don’t ask each other that—and we aren’t best friends.”

“You have a closer friend than him?” she asked incredulously.

“No. But a grown-ass man doesn’t go around saying that.”

“Why?” she asked. “It’s cute.”

I gave her a hard look. “I’m not cute, sweetheart.”

She held my gaze for a while before she tapped her phone again. “I just want some cake.”

“You could ask Gerard to grab some for you.”

“I wanted to make it. But you should never bake on an empty stomach.”

“Is this a new hobby of yours, or have you always been into baking?”

“It’s new,” she said. “I used to cook all the time, so I was never in the mood to make somethingfun.”

She referred to her time being Adrien’s wife, and the mention of him added more weight to my shoulders. If I kept this information to myself, my implication in the matter would never come back to haunt me, but I felt deceitful, nonetheless. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She turned away from her phone, her eyes guarded like she already knew it was bad news.

“I made peace with the Aristocrats, but they’re coming for Adrien.” Perhaps she had already realized that. Perhaps she’d been worried about it the entire time but didn’t want to mention her ex-husband to me. “They said they would make peace with me if I didn’t intervene.”

Her stare didn’t change, like she needed more time to let the situation sink in.

I waited for her to say something, but nothing seemed to be forthcoming. “I debated telling you.”

“I knew the problem hadn’t been solved.”

So, she had thought about it. “Is there something you would like me to do?”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like stop it.”

Her elbow rested on the counter, and her chin was propped on her closed fist. She busied herself with a vase of flowers that sat on the corner of the kitchen island along with a groupingof white candles, like she hadn’t noticed them until now. “They warned you not to intervene, right?”

“But you know I would intervene for you, sweetheart.” Did I want to solve problems for my woman’s ex-husband? No. But I would do anything for her if she asked. I loved her unconditionally, would put my life on the line for the man she’d loved before me if that’s what she wanted.

Her eyes flicked away and stayed that way. “I’ll always care for Adrien. I wish nothing but the best for him. But you warned him multiple times, and he chose to disregard your advice. I’d appreciate if you told him what’s coming…if he doesn’t already know…so he can leave the country or something. But I don’t want you involved in this in any other way. I can accept Adrien’s death because he brought it on himself, but I could never accept yours for any reason or circumstance.” When she found the courage to look at me again, she met my gaze and focused on me.

I would go to war for this woman, but it meant the world to me that she didn’t ask me to. It probably wasn’t easy to desert the man she’d promised to love for a lifetime, but she did to prioritize me. “I’ll let him know.”

My driver was taking me to my next stop when I called Adrien.

It rang and rang.

The Aristocrats would probably consider a phone call an intervention, but Fleur had asked me to, and it was a small enough ask.

He finally answered. “How is she?” He always asked about her first, and he did such a good job of acting like he cared for her I almost believed he did. I should feel sorry for him, even though he’d fucked around on her a dozen times.

“She’s my responsibility, not yours, so stop asking.”

“I just want to know if she’s okay.”

“She’s great. Went to a wedding with me last weekend, baked a cake this afternoon, and now she’s dead asleep in my big-ass bed. What else do you want to know?”

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