BASTIEN

I spoke to Pierre in the sitting room.

“You know how she is,” he said. “The most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, I know.”

“I love her that way, but sometimes it works against me.”

I nodded.

“I think it’s time for both of us to go into assisted living. I found a really nice place in the Loire Valley, but she won’t even consider it. Too proud to admit the stairs are too much. Too proud to admit she doesn’t need all this space. She says she’s too young.”

“I think she doesn’t fully understand what assisted living can be.”

“I agree,” he said. “I think it’s better to make the move now than when it really is too hard. Do you think you could talk to her for me?”

I nodded. “I’ll give it a try, Pierre.”

“Dad?”

I looked over my shoulder to see him across the room, looking at an old family photo over the fireplace. I turned back to Pierre. “I’ll have dinner with her this week. And if that doesn’t work, Godric can give it a try.”

“Thank you, Bastien.”

I stood up and gave him a quick hug before I joined my son across the room, who continued to look at my old family portrait. The last time I’d really looked at it had been the night I’d told my mother what I’d done to my father. It kinda blurred into the background after that. We all smiled in the picture—but it was a fucking lie. “What is it, Bruce?” My son was fifteen and in secondary school. He’d received high marks ever since he started school, and all his teachers said he was bright. I wasn’t sure if he got that from me or Fleur, or perhaps neither. Perhaps he just had a better environment than either of us ever did.

“Why don’t we ever talk about him?”

“My father?” It was true. I never mentioned him, and neither did my mother. He’d just faded out of our lives. A couple years ago, my mother had asked me for more details about our childhood, like what he’d done to me and Godric when she wasn’t around. I’d watched her revere his memory then hate his ghost.

“Yeah.” Bruce looked at me, having my blue eyes but his mother’s dark hair. He was a good-looking boy, and once he became a man, he would have his pick of the crop. He’d be smart enough to pursue anything he wanted. Handsome enough to charm his way into and out of any situation. Fleur had given me a son, but she’d also given me a daughter too, but she was home with her mother. “I call Pierre my grandpa, but I guess he’s not.”

“He is.” He was a better grandfather than my father would have been if he’d lived. Our whole lives would be completely different. “You can have more than one.”

“Whenever I asked Grandma about him, she changes. It’s like she doesn’t want to talk about him. How did he die? Did he get sick?”

I didn’t want to lie to my son, but I didn’t want to tell him his father was a murderer. “We don’t talk about him because he wasn’t a good man, Bruce. He did a lot of hurtful things to me, your grandmother, Uncle Godric. Family is everything, but it takes more than blood to make a family. That’s why I say Pierre is your grandfather, because he loves you like his own. That’s what counts.”

Within the last year, Bruce had become more interested in family ties and previous generations after taking a genetics class in school. He became interested in genealogy. I was afraid one day he would figure out how we’d earned our family fortune. He would figure out my father was a criminal—and I had been a bigger one. “What did he do to you, Dad?”

I looked into his blue eyes, eyes identical to mine, and felt my heart skip a beat.

Because I loved him so much.

When he was born, our lives were upside down, even with a nanny and doula, and the adjustment was hard on me. I never complained, just supported Fleur in every way that I could. The attachment wasn’t there at first. He was just a baby who went through twenty diapers a day.

But then…it changed.

I became a father, and I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.

When my daughter was born, I was pumped. I was so freakin’ excited. Excited to have a little girl and give Bruce a sibling.

It took time for me to be who I was, but it happened, and I could never look at my son and think, even for a fucking second, that he was unwanted. That he wasn’t enough. That he was a disappointment.

“It doesn’t matter.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and I gave it a squeeze. “It’s best to let things go and be happy. I learned that the hard way.” I pulled him in and gave him a quick kiss on the side of the head, like he was still a boy. “Let’s pick up some pizza and head home. You know how your mother gets when she’s hungry.”

He laughed. “Not as angry as you, Dad.”

The Fifth Republic Series continues with Luca's story in The Emperor . Flip to the end of this book to read the first few chapters of his story and preorder it now .

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