Page 22 of Unleash Hades
I straightened, schooling my features as best I could. I resented competing with Bellamy. The Laurent’s might own a media business, but we had to work to retain our status. Especially with Richard doing his best to run the enterprise into the ground.
But the Bellamy’s, who inherited the Duchy of Mouron? They came from the world heraldic, generational wealth. The kind that could not be lost in this lifetime, or the next. They were a line too ancient to topple in one go, even if French monarchies had no legal standing.
“Richard and I have very different tastes,” I said, turning away and giving him my cold shoulder.
The two fighters in the ring lunged at each other. One fell down over the other and punched his opponent over and over again. Blood sprayed into the air, evaporating into pink mist, and the crowd went wild. People screamed and clamored to their feet.
Bellamy and I remained like statues in our seats, not looking at each other.
“Different tastes? I never would have guessed.” His voice continued our interrupted conversation. “You two seem so close.”
I hated that people believed that. I hated that I had to keep up that façade.
I hated that I had become such a good liar. A person I never wanted to be.
It was my dream to be a journalist, and to always tell the truth. Now…
“I don’t care for the blood sport myself,” Bellamy fingered his ascot. “But everyone always dresses to the nines in the Underground. Take a look at Jericho Vasiliev. His wife has taught him how to accessorize. That Lapis Lazuli bracelet is divine. It ties the whole outfit together.”
Of course, it was about clothes for him.
“But blood and violence… yuck!” Bellamy grimaced. “If it wasn’t for the fashions and connections, I wouldn’t bother.” Another smack, the sound of bone and flesh colliding, as the fighters made one last effort to win. More blood sprayed, and bruisesformed. “But there’s something about carnage that makes the chins wag, the wallets open, and the inhibitions disappear.”
The referee put out his hands, declaring the fight over. Voices raised in screams of frustration, or victory, as betting slips were thrown, or kissed.
“Blood is the real social lubricant, I’d say.”
Bellamy was still talking. A terrible narrator for this particular spectacle.
Why couldn’t Lucien Bellamy have been a fashion “journalist”, working for one of the beauty magazines? Why did he have to be in my sphere? Running around war zones in his expensive button-down shirts and scarves, like a pig in lipstick. He traipsed around the world’s most impoverished areas, wearing thousand-dollar shirts and enormous watches that could probably feed an entire country. The man’s lack of self-awareness was shocking.
“I see Richard at these fights often, but I’ve never seen you before.” His words stabbed at my gut. “I assumed you didn’t like blood sports, as a female ofcertain sensibilities.”
Flamboyant and sexist? Asshole.
I shrugged off his apparent misogyny, gritting my teeth to concentrate on the information that wasactuallyimportant. Something that might be useful. “You’ve seen Richard at these fights?”
“Oh yes,” he said with a high-pitched laugh. “I’ve seen Richard often at these events, and also when I go to France it seems.”
Blood. Bruises. Water. Death.
Marseilles.
“Oh? I didn’t know you went to France much. I haven’t seen you assigned there.”
“Oh, no!” His fingers fluttered. “I despise Paris, and frankly despise the French… no offense.”
I wanted to kick him. I might speak like some English prick, but I was French, through and through.
“French women do have a certain something… I do love their accents, you know. There’s nothing quite like it.” Then his voice suddenly pitched low. If I hadn’t seen his lips move from the corner of my eye, I would have thought a different person was speaking. “Your Richard might know a thing or two about that.”
What the fuck was he trying to imply?
Richard’s revolving door of French mistresses was a poorly guarded secret, but it was generally understood that I accepted and condoned it. Butno onehad the balls to ever openly discuss it to my face!
Richard and I fooled the world and played the loving married couple. We were outwardly a unified front.
Like Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine.
