Destruction, page 22
No, he didn’t regret that at all.
Didn’t even completely regret the things he had done to her in the cell, the things that had put his darkness inside her, the things that made her come like she had just now.
But the fucking guilt was still there. Like a sharp thing he’d swallowed that was slowly tearing its way through his insides, impossible to remove as it tangled in his organs and blood vessels.
He’d felt it when he’d come back with the groceries. Seeing the tension in her face, the strain of her voice as she’d struggled to maintain her controlled corporate voice with the lawyer — but he could sense her fear when she’d asked if they would press charges against her. Of all things, he knew her fear best of all.
And it was all because of him.
He could have left her there. He could have left it alone like Harry had begged him to, and he could have moved on with his life. Abandoned his father’s crusade, his crusade, and let the world keep turning. None of this shit would be happening if he’d just left it alone.
But then Mercier would have killed more people, would have eventually roped Lianna into the nightmare and corrupted her, and he wouldn’t be with her now. Would never have known there was someone on this fucked up planet that was his match. The other half of his coin.
All of her light, and all of his darkness.
Just as much as he’d tainted her, ruined her life like he’d promised, fed her darkness until she was someone who came while he fucked her ass, after he’d belted her, after he’d pinned her down and taken her like an animal… she was affecting him too.
You’re being domestic again.
It was true, and the fact that he liked it, that he enjoyed making her meals, watching her eat, tucking her into bed, and being there for her while she dealt with the shitstorm he’d created — it meant he was changing too.
Lianna liked to describe it as a coin, that they were two sides of the same one. Except he’d spent his whole life face down, in the dark, and she’d only ever had the light. But the same history shaped them both, they had the same story, the same world, it was just they’d only had half of it. And now they were knitting them together. Building a new future out of the wreckage he’d caused, with some of the light, and some of the dark.
And the two of them.
Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her temple, careful not to wake her, and then he slid off the bed. Pulling the pillows free, and tugging the covers up over her shoulders so he could grab a shower. As he stripped in the bathroom he thought about his last call with Harry, about the word moving through the underbelly of the world that Lianna had never even touched.
Her hands were still so clean. Everything about her still so innocent, even with all of the knowledge she had now, even with the hint of darkness he’d put inside her. She was still so fucking good, and he wanted to keep her that way.
Had sworn to Harry that he’d protect her, that he’d die before anything happened to her.
His angel was fighting her battles in courtrooms and boardrooms, and he would fight the battles she couldn’t see. The ones in the streets, and the gutters, and the darkness.
Because the last thing he would allow was for the Faure family to have her.
No matter how much they wanted her.
THE END
End Notes
I really hope you all enjoyed this dark romance as much as I enjoyed writing it. Lianna and David have such a fun dynamic to explore, and I’m not done with them yet! There is plenty more drama to come, and Lianna’s trouble is only just beginning.
Their next book, tentatively titled ‘Inheritance’, will come out in 2018. Depending on what these crazy characters do it may be a duet, or possibly a trilogy. Either way, you’ll get to dive back into the dark and twisted fun of these two again!
Keep reading for an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at the unedited Chapter One of the next book!
I’m so grateful for all of you, lovelies! Make sure to tell me if you’re looking forward to the rest of their story.
<3 Jennifer Bene
A sneak peek at Chapter One of ‘Inheritance’!
Eight Months Later
Pulling another page of the newspaper free, Lianna folded it around a coffee cup, tucking the excess paper inside, before she nestled it in the box with its brothers. One more cup and that shelf was empty. Which meant she was possibly five percent of the way there. Staring at all the open cabinets, she sighed and grabbed her wine glass.
There were boxes everywhere. Most of them still open, because she couldn’t figure out how much to put in a box, or what to put in each box.
It’s not like she’d ever packed herself before.
David had rolled his eyes when she’d told him. Time to learn, angel, he’d said, before handing her the packing tape. He had showed her how to tape off the bottom of the box before she put shit in it, and then he’d gone to work.
She was supposed to have one room finished by the time he got home, but there was no way in hell that was going to happen. It felt impossible. Too overwhelming to pack her whole life into boxes.
Especially the ones marked sell and donate.
Going through her closet had added a few things to each, but on top of everything else going on… it was more tempting to empty the last bit of wine in the bottle and open another one to keep drinking. Getting drunk before six o’clock in the evening was normal, right?
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath and walked out of the kitchen. Moving past the scattered boxes, she paused before the floor to ceiling windows, watching the sun drooping low in the sky, peeking between two skyscrapers as it painted the world orange.
Only a week and she’d never see this view again.
Her twenty-fourth floor, corner apartment had a panoramic view of the city. It had been what sold her on the place the moment she’d walked inside. Not the custom cabinets, or marble countertops, or high-end appliances… it was this. The wide view of the city that wrapped behind the fake fireplace, high enough that the noise of the city faded, suspended like a bird flying high in the sky. As she stepped closer to the edge, planting her toes on the metal window sill, she looked down at the street far below and for a moment it felt like she was up in the air. Hovering on the wind so high above the cars and people that the world faded away which was a stupid thought. She wasn’t flying anywhere, wasn’t escaping. This was her new reality.
Pulling herself away from the window, she swallowed a mouthful of wine. The apartment wasn’t huge, but it was hers. She had paid for it out of her own money, her own paychecks from Mercier Systems. Back then, it had mattered to have something that she could claim instead of something her father handed her. Even if the job that supplied the paychecks had been, even if every dollar was tainted. She had still earned it.
Not like that mattered anymore.
Groaning, Lianna walked back into the kitchen to pour the rest of the wine in her glass, tossing the bottle in the recycling. She had just opened a drawer of kitchen utensils to continue packing when she heard a series of knocks on the door. Laughing under her breath, she shut the drawer.
“Did you get more groceries? I told you that we needed to do take out for” Ripping open the door she saw a tall man with light brown hair, and he smiled at her as she reminded herself to speak. “Um, hi. I think you have the wrong apartment. This is 2402.”
“I don’t have the wrong apartment, Lianna.” The use of her name in that subtle French accent sent a chill down her spine, and she tried to slam the door but he nudged his foot into the gap.
“Move,” she demanded, wishing she’d agreed to keep a gun in the apartment.
“I am only here to talk, mon oisillon. My name is Jean-Luc Faure.”
Lianna’s world spun, her grip on the door easing, and she parted it just enough to look into his face as he stepped backwards, hands lifted by his shoulders.
“I am alone, and I just want to speak with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I was never able to meet you while your father was alive, and you are my niece. May I come inside?”
Everything about him seemed designed to make her feel comfortable. He wore a light peacoat, a simple button-down shirt, and dark jeans. No high-end suit, no intimidating expression or tone to his voice. Opening the door a little more she looked down the hall and saw no one else.
“I assure you, I am alone as I said.”
“What do you want?” she asked, still bracing one foot behind the door.
“I just want to know you, and for you to know us. That is all.” Jean-Luc sighed, and then pulled off his coat to offer it through the gap in the door. “Here, search my coat.”
As she took it in her hands, he pulled out the pockets of his jeans to show they were empty, and then turned around to slowly lift out a cellphone and wallet from his back pockets. Lianna didn’t pull her eyes from him as she blindly slid her hands into the pockets of the coat, before searching along the inside for any hidden ones. “I’m keeping this, and those, until you leave.”
“Of course.” He held out the phone and wallet and she snatched them.
“Lift the back of your shirt.”
“Ah, you are intelligent.” Jean-Luc Faure turned around again and pulled his shirt free of his pants, showing only his back, and as he turned to face her again she saw his stomach. No gun. He dropped the fabric and held his arms out. “I am not here to hurt you, Lianna. I just want to talk, to get to know you. Can we sit down inside?”
“Show me your ankles too.”
He nodded and leaned down to lift one side of his jeans up his calf, and then the other. “Shall we?” he asked as he stood tall again.
“Fine,” she mumbled as she finally stepped back from the door, letting it fall open. Lianna backed up towards the kitchen as he walked inside, hands relaxed at his sides, looking around the apartment until his eyes landed on the windows.
“What a lovely view,” he mused as he strode towards the windows, deftly avoiding the boxes haphazardly placed across the tile.
She dropped his things on the bar, and moved to close the front door, an uncomfortable realization closing in as she faced him. “How exactly did you get up here?”
“You mean how did I get past your doorman?” The man turned back to the windows, bracing his hands on his hips as he stared into the setting sun. “It really was not complicated, which is a concern. I simply told the man that I was your uncle, and was here to surprise you for your birthday… which is in three weeks, if I recall correctly.”
October 4th. He was right, and she almost gave him the date, but instead she just stared at his back, mulling over the fact that her building security had let him inside. “And he just believed you?”
“I had photographs of you and your father, photographs of him and I, but they are downstairs with my men in the lobby.” He shrugged slightly and turned around, back to the warm, red-gold of the setting sun. “I only want to speak with you, Lianna.”
“You’ve said that. But I know who you are, Jean-Luc Faure. You’re the head of the Faure family, and I’m not stupid enough to think you’re here just to talk.”
“So your father did tell you about us before he died?”
“I want to know why you’re really here,” she replied, avoiding the question as she took a few steps forward, trying to hide the trembling in her limbs by crossing her arms.
“Would you believe that I have been asking Alain I apologize Robert to let you meet us for years? Decades, actually. I flew to the US when I heard you were born, but he only let me inside his flat for a moment.” Jean-Luc paused, smiling slightly as he seemed to reminisce. “I heard you crying, looked around to see where you were, but your father told me to leave.”
“Why would you do that? Why would you want to see me when I was an infant, or now for that matter?”
He laughed softly and spread his arms. “Lianna, you are my niece. My family. Why would I not want to know you? My own children want to know you. My wife. Your cousins, your uncle Marc. Everyone wants to meet Alain’s daughter.”
“Why?” she hissed, even though she felt like a broken record.
“Because family is very important to us, and you have been a missing piece for too long,” he answered smoothly, the hint of his French accent making the words into a teasing offer.
“Right,” Lianna huffed, turning to grab her wine from the kitchen. When she stepped back out, he was sitting on the couch, arms braced on his knees as he looked up at her.
“Wine? You are definitely a Faure.” He smiled broadly and sat up. “May I join you?”
“No.”
Jean-Luc shook his head a little, still smiling, before resting his hands in his lap. “That’s fine. I understand why you may have reservations, which makes it even more important that we speak. Will you sit?”
“I don’t know what you expect to happen here, but I’ll give you ten minutes to tell me whatever it is.” Moving to the chair, she sat down and crossed her legs, suddenly remembering she was in yoga pants and a t-shirt with no bra. Not a great outfit to meet the leader of your evil family.
“Alright, then I’ll be blunt. We have a family estate in Provence that I would like you to visit, at my expense of course.” He laughed quietly. “I may have accidentally told my children that I was going to visit their cousin in the US and invite you back, so of course everyone knows now. The last text message I received was from my youngest daughter, Emilie, asking what day the party would be, and”
“I’m not going to France with you!” she cut him off, raising her voice. “Are you insane? Did you not hear me before? I know who you are. You run all of it, the whole damn Faure family. Why on earth would I want to get involved with you?”
“I understand that my arrival came as a shock. I had planned to come earlier, but I knew that you had enough to deal with and that this could wait.”
“Exactly! I have enough shit going on without being connected to you.” Standing, she gestured to the door. Feeling foolish for ever letting him in the door. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Lianna,” Jean-Luc said her name with a smile, and didn’t move an inch. “Things are not going well for you here. Let me help. Let me introduce you to the family your father kept you from. There is nothing like having family to lean on in times of trouble.”
“I’m not interested.”
He sighed, the smile finally fading from his face as he seemed to debate over his next words. “I know this was a surprise, and I apologize for that. My wife, Cécile, wanted me to call first, but I thought it was better to be face to face. Honestly, I should have brought her with me. She is so much better than I am at talking to people…” Shrugging, he brought his hands together with a quiet clap. “But I thought it would be less overwhelming if it were just me. My mistake, mon oisillon. I will go for now.”
“You should just go home,” Lianna replied, watching as he stood.
“I have other business to attend to in the city. Perhaps we can have lunch before I leave?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Alright, Lianna, perhaps next time.” He offered his hand as he approached her, but she didn’t take it, and he nodded as he let it fall to his side. “I do wish you had taken the job with Sotheby’s in Lyon. I think you would have really enjoyed it.”
“How” Lianna started to ask how he knew about the job, but the sound of the door unlocking and opening made her turn. Flat boxes came through the door first, and then David with a plastic bag on one arm.
“Hey, angel! How is packing going?” he asked loudly as he set the boxes against the bar, and then he froze when he turned around. It only took a second before he had his gun out and pointed at Jean-Luc. “What the fuck is”
Raising her hand to stop him, she spoke quickly. “It’s okay. I’m fine and he’s leaving.”
“I am leaving. Sorry to disturb you both, I simply wanted to meet Lianna.” Jean-Luc Faure had his hands up again, stepping away from her toward the door, while David tracked him with the gun. “I would appreciate if you could lower the gun. I am unarmed. Ask Lianna.”
“It’s true, I checked. He doesn’t have a weapon, and those are his things behind you.” Approaching David, she squeezed his arm before she gathered the man’s coat and items. “He hasn’t done anything, I promise,” she whispered.
“You need to go,” David growled, lowering the weapon, but he kept both hands on it and a finger on the trigger. “Now.”
Handing everything to Jean-Luc, Lianna nodded. “I agree, it’s time for you to leave.”
“Of course. Let me just leave you my card.” Flipping open his wallet, her uncle pulled out a business card and held it towards her. “Please, call me if you’re willing to meet this week. Both of you are invited.”
“Out,” David snapped.
Jean-Luc smiled, reminding her too much of her father for a moment as she took the card from his fingers. “I am glad to know Lianna has someone watching out for her. I wish you both a good night.” He opened the door and then held it to look back at her. “You deserve to know your family, Lianna. That’s all I want for you.”
“Good night,” she answered and he stepped into the hall.
As soon as the door shut, David moved to it with the gun at his side, locking the deadbolt and then peering through the peephole for a moment. Finally, he turned around and tucked the gun into the back of his pants as he approached, tension etched into the lines of his face. “Did he touch you?” he asked, cupping her cheeks in his hands.
“No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Fuck,” he muttered as he pulled her against his chest, arms wrapped around her back as he hugged her tight. “Do you have any idea who that was?”
