Lucien slides closer to Natasha. His left hand begins to caress her long hair as he inches his body ever closer. She can feel the heat he is throwing off and knows it’s time to clue him in.
“When did you get to New York, Lady Natasha?”
She chuckles, watching him closely. He certainly looks like a man in love but then she hasn’t seen him in months—she almost but not quite forgot how pretty he is.
“Only just got here today and came right over to see you, love.”
“Natasha,” he breathes, “why can’t we be together? You know I care for you so very much. I want to be with you.”
“I want you and my uncles to grab Ariel again. This time we’re going to make it count.”
Standing abruptly, Lucien turns his back to her. “I don’t want to hurt Ella. It’s not her fault, not any of it, and she does not deserve to pay for Blackmon’s sins.”
“It’s not that she’s paying for his sins, per se. It’s just a way to hurt him through her. He actually loves the girl.”
“So? She’s very lovable. I won’t hurt her. Now explain to me why, after everything I’ve done for you, you continue to spurn me. Why? I want to know.”
“You really are an idiot, Lucien. Why do you think my uncles are so faithful to you? Hmm? Can you tell me?”
“They’ve been with me for a long time, since I was a little boy. They’re loyal…”
“Pfft.” She waves her hand in the air. “Those men are coldhearted opportunists. The only ones they care about are themselves and their sister—my mother. And… their son.”
“Son?”
“Yes, Lucien. Their son. You, to be exact.”
Unadulterated shock floods his patrician features. “What in fuck are you talking about?” Lucien only uses profanity when he’s furious, like right now. Natasha is scheming, thinking nothing about using him as a pawn in her plans.
“I’m answering your question as to why we can’t be lovers, my darling. We’re first cousins. We cannot legally marry, and having children would be egregiously stupid. It’s best we find other partners.”
Barely able to move a single part of his body, Lucien flops back down on the couch, leans his head back and his eyelids drift shut. Is nothing what it seems? “How can that be?” His voice is just audible in the quiet room.
She smirks and shakes her head in disgust. “How do you think, dearheart? My uncles both fucked your mother silly; she got pregnant and told the Frenchman it was his child. My uncles decided to consider you a son of both rather than be tested for paternity. That’s why they love you so very much: blood of their blood, fruit of their loins, whatever the hell people say. So now that that’s out of the way, will you do what I need you to do?”
Lucien somehow summons the energy to stand and begins to walk away and then turns with a newly acquired thought to share. “No, Natasha, I will not. As I said, Ella is a really nice person and I am not going to be party to hurting her. You have a problem with Blackmon? You handle it yourself. Leave me out of it. In fact, get out of my loft and my life. I’m done with you, you heartless bitch.”
Daniel Butler’s office is located in Soho, in Lower Manhattan. The cab ride from the small airport in Westchester takes a little under an hour and drops him off at the corner of Broadway and Prince: the address he seeks is not far away. Ian appreciates the look of the building housing White Elephant Design, one of Daniel’s companies. It’s an old industrial brick, built during a time when craftsmanship was expected and artisans took pride in their work. Of course, it was renovated and retrofitted to suit modern tastes. WED’s executive offices are on the third floor and epitomize a high-end NYC loft.
A pretty assistant sporting purple spiky hair and a suit that looks like Brooks Brothers as interpreted by a punk-rock designer, directs him to the office and Daniel is waiting just inside.
“Ian. Good to see you. Come in.”
They shake hands and Daniel invites him to sit. He does so, feeling a little nervous about having to tell his friend how damn dangerous is his situation. He waggles his tie back and forth to loosen it a titch, and then launches into the details of his visit to New York. Daniel listens to every word carefully, scratching his brow with this thumb.
“Any thoughts?”
Daniel smirks, exhaling a deep breath with a laugh. “Lots.”
“What do you recommend?”
Daniel shrugs. “The way I see it you have two options, one more permanent than the other.”
“I’d prefer to keep within the law. How safe is it?”