Luca

Ientered Loup, the restaurant on the corner of Rue Du Louvre and Rue Coquilliere. There was a moose head over the entrance to the bathrooms, and the many tables and booths were vacant at this hour. The place was open until one in the morning, and I walked in fifteen minutes before closing because no doors in Paris ever closed. Not for me, at least.

Baptiste Escoffier was already seated at the table near the window, having an espresso as if his day had only just begun. He acknowledged my presence with a steely stare. The contact didn’t break as he watched me pull out the chair across from him and take a seat.

The waiter walked straight to our table and asked what I wanted.

“I’ll have the same,” I said without looking at him.

He walked off. Music played overhead in the empty restaurant. A car passed by the window behind him.

Baptiste took a drink of his espresso. “What are you going to do, Luca?”

I gave a sigh because I was already exhausted by the topic we hadn’t even discussed yet. “I don’t fucking know.”

“You need to figure it out—and quickly.”

“Their beef was with Bastien, not me.”

“Well, that inheritance has passed on to you. Oscar’s death hasn’t been forgotten. The violation of the truce hasn’t been forgotten.”

“They were going to violate it themselves.”

“Can’t be proven. You struck first.”

“They quickly forget that all of this started because they took Bastien’s wife.” They’d violated the Fifth Republic when they’d taken an innocent woman and pulled her into the shadows of the underworld. But the bigger mistake was who the woman was.

“Adrien’s wife, technically.” He took another drink of his espresso.

Hard to believe she’d ever belonged to anyone but Bastien.

“The Aristocrats have drastically changed their organization. My sparrows tell me they’re going to take the Louvre next.”

I blinked several times as I stared. “The Louvre.” It was ridiculous, so ridiculous I wasn’t sure why I said it out loud.

He gave a slight shake of his head. “They believe some of those pieces belong to them. Relics and heirlooms from their family lines, taken from their ancestral homes and put in a museum for obnoxious foreigners to see.”

“After all the shit that went down, they’ve gotten crazier?”

He gave a shrug. “Seems so. People believe they’re behind the theft at the National Gallery in London. Only the French pieces were taken…a little obvious.”

It was outside of Paris, so outside of my jurisdiction, outside of my concern. “Subtlety isn’t their style.” It wasn’t mine either.

The waiter arrived and brought two plates of what Baptiste ordered. Onion soup with the beef tartare. The soup was so hot I could see the steam rising from the bowls. Baptiste dropped his linen across his lap and immediately scooped his spoon into the dark broth with melted cheese and took a bite.

He tapped his spoon against the hard pieces of cheese and forced them to drop into the broth before he took another bite. “How are things with you?”

I went for the tartare instead. “It’s been a smooth transition.” Bastien had given me no notice when he left. Put me on the spot then took off with Fleur. They’d traveled for a few months, visiting the Greek Islands then Sicily and Tuscany. I’d rarely heard from them while they were away. I’d spent that time restoring order to the Fifth Republic and maintaining compliance with the gangs. Most of those who’d turned on Bastien had fled before they could be executed. New leaders came into power, and the entire ecosystem of crime had drastically changed over the last few months.

But it’d finally calmed down again. Probably because everyone knew I wasn’t as easygoing as Bastien. I preferred to shoot first and then think about it later. I didn’t hear testimony before I passed my judgment. I was the judge, the jury, and the executioner all in one. No such thing as second chances. Barely first chances.

Baptiste focused on his soup for a while, decades older than me in appearance but still hearty under the flesh. He’d always been smart, playing chess when his opponents played checkers. It was how he’d been around so long, evolving and adapting to the environment. “You’ve come a long way, Luca.”

From rags to riches. From civilian to The Noose. The Emperor.

“Your father would be proud of you.”

I watched another car pass by the window on the empty street.

“As proud as I am.”

I sat in the booth alone and faced the windows and the main door at Holybelly. The street outside was one-way, and a motorcycle passed and then a town car. Then there was a black SUV. It came to a stop, its taillights turning red.

A moment later, Bastien emerged in a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, a permanent grin on his face as if a plastic surgeon had manipulated his facial muscles to stay that way. When he walked in, he spotted the waiter we saw on a regular basis, and they immediately greeted each other with a handshake and then talked football.

I drank my coffee and looked out the window again.

Bastien finally came to my booth and fist-bumped me. “Been a while.”

“You look tan.”

“It was surprisingly warm, especially in Sicily.” He grabbed the menu and glanced at the specials. “Which really worked out because Fleur had this little bikini that barely covered the goods, so I got to stare at that all day.” He smirked then flipped the menu over.

“You don’t care about anyone else looking at her?”

“No,” he said with a scoff. “You think some asshole is gonna go for it with me lurking around?”

Bryan came over. “The usual?”

“Yep,” Bastien said. “Fucking starving.”

“Me too.” I set my menu on top of his.

Bryan walked away to put the order in.

I already had my coffee, so I took a drink of it.

Bastien sat with his arms on the table and stared at me. “You look like shit.”

“I look tired. While you’ve been fucking all over the Mediterranean, I’ve been restoring order to our Republic. President Martin breathed down my throat every single day until order was maintained. And it’s still not fully there.”

Bastien gave a slight nod. “Fair enough. How are things?”

“Not your problem, Bastien.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”

I gave a slight shake of my head. “How’s Fleur?”

“She’s good. Had a great time on our trip. A side to her I’ve never seen before.”

“Probably because she saw a new side to you that she hasn’t seen before.”

“True.” He nodded. “Didn’t shoot anybody. Didn’t threaten to shoot anybody.”

“Must be nice.” I’d been executing the traitors and chasing the cowards.

“If you don’t want the job, Nico is next in line since Mael moved on.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is the problem?” he asked. “Because there are waves of resentment crossing the table right now.”

Bryan appeared then, bringing our hot plates of food at the most contentious moment. He laid everything out without saying a word or making eye contact then walked off.

Bastien was hungry but didn’t touch his food.

“It’s not resentment.”

“Then what is it?”

I wasn’t sure what the problem was. I didn’t think about these sorts of things too often. But when I was put on the spot, I was forced to confront the emotions I suppressed. “It all happened so fast. Fleur appeared out of nowhere, and within just a couple of months, our lives were forever changed. I didn’t expect you to leave so quickly and so suddenly. It’s just not the same without you.”

It was a testament to our friendship when he didn’t make a joke or sidestep my words. He held my gaze and confronted it. “So, you miss me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you kinda did.” A slow smirk moved over his lips.

I rolled my eyes. “Saying it’s not the same is not the same thing as saying I miss you?—”

“I miss you too, man.” His fair skin was a little darker from lying by the pool on his vacation, but his blue eyes were still hard and brilliant at the same time. “I’m really happy with my life with Fleur. Wouldn’t change it for anything. But now that the honeymoon is over and we’re back to normal life, there’s definitely a void there that she can’t fill. A purpose that’s missing, a lack of speed and adrenaline. If her safety wasn’t so heavily braided into the job, I’d be back. No question.”

That shouldn’t make me feel better, but for some reason, it did.

“My life was easier without Fleur. But not better. One day, you’ll understand what I mean.”

I scoffed before I grabbed my fork and started to eat.

“I said the same thing, remember?” He started to eat too, pouring the syrup all over his sweet stack of pancakes. “Look at me now.”

“We aren’t the same, Bastien.”

“But we aren’t different either, Luca.”

I paused and looked at him before I bit the piece of hash brown off the fork.

“So, what’s going on?” Bastien asked.

“It’s fine. You’re done with this stuff.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it,” he said again. “What else are we going to talk about?”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind hearing more about this little bikini Fleur has…”

He chuckled before he took a bite of his pancakes. “Can’t even describe it.”

Don’t stop now. Order The Emperor so you can find out what happens between Luca and Aliénor.