Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
“Why would I not be?”
“Supposedly that's Eden's father.”
“Which is more the reason why he must die.”
I quirked my brows. “Have you told her?”
“Timur begged me not to.”
“I don't know, J.P. You don't want secrets in your relationship.”
“Eden went through a lot during that kidnapping by the Devil.”
I shook my head, hating that she experienced it.
“Eden is still struggling with a lot. You must remember that her Aunt Celina had a role in her getting kidnapping. Which was enough of a betrayal. Now, her aunt is dead. I will not tell Eden that this woman was also her mother who abandoned her as a baby.” Jean-Pierre wore a grim expression. “Some of Eden's fondest memories are of her childhood where two people that truly loved her with all their hearts raised her. I do not plan to shatter those memories.”
I nodded. “Don't.”
“Timur may not be her biological father, but he loves her. It will be Timur that walks her down the aisle for our wedding. It will be Timur holding our daughter in his arms when Eden gives birth. Those are future memories that will only bring warmth and happiness to my queen.”
I smiled. “You are smooth as fuck, J.P.”
“I do my best.” He winked. “How about your thoughts on killing Fela? Can you do it?”
“I can. . .I'm just. . .nervous about it.”
“If you weren't nervous about killing someone so intelligent and villainous, I would think you were an idiot.” He gently touched my arm. “However, do you understand that you do not have to point the gun at Fela's head and pull the trigger?”
“And who would do it?”
“I would.”
“That isn't the deal that Fela and I have going—”
“But, that is not your concern.” He moved his hand. “Just remember that the Butcher is at your service.”
I shook my head. “I made a deal. I will stand by it. I believe that if I don't, more death and destruction could come.”
He placed his hands in his pocket. “The Cat and Mouse.”
I smirked. “What?”
“Have you ever heard of that composition?”
“Of course not.”
“The Cat and the Mouse is a composition by an American classical music composer named Aaron Copland.”
I eyed him. “O-kay.”
“He went to school in Paris, France in 1921.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“The song is genius because you can hear so vividly the story in the notes. The music starts with a slow single melody as the mouse hides. The cat gets flustered trying to find the mouse. Then, the cat disappears.” Jean-Pierre raised his arms and positioned them in a way as if he were holding an invisible violin. “The mouse thinks the cat is really gone. And a sudden loud and dissonant chord shows how the mouse is scared by something. Who could it be?”
I watched those hands as he began to play the invisible violin. “The cat.”
“Yes. The cat suddenly appears! And the quick and light notes sound as if the mouse quickly runs away.” Jean-Pierre moved the invisible bow fast. “The chase begins again.”
I chuckled. “O-kay.”
Jean-Pierre continued to play. “The composition is quite a treat. Clear pacing, rhythm, dynamics, dissonance, and consonance. All successful musical storytelling.”
Sorrow filled his eyes. He lowered his arms and placed them by his side. Then, he gave me a sad smile. “I will teach your son the violin.”
“Okay.” I blinked. “And. . .I can show your daughter how to paint—”
“But, do not forget to show her the importance of protecting herself.” To my surprise, his eyes watered. “I believe you. . .and Lunita. I will be a good father.”
I parted my lips.
“A little girl must be safe and protected.”
I gulped down despair.
“You have become very important to me, Emily.” He placed his hands in his pockets. “Before you were only an important chess piece to tame the Lion and rid myself of the Brotherhood.”
“And now?”
“You are the sister that I always needed—a sibling in blood and death. I care for you very deeply. If you ever need something, call anytime. I will come with an army and my bow. And if you just. . .need someone to talk to. . .my ear will always be yours.”
I touched my chest. “Damn, J.P. You might make me cry.”
“Save your tears for the plane ride home.” Jean-Pierre walked off. “This afternoon, we all must remain dry-eyed and focused.”
I called after him. “J.P.!”
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Did the cat ever catch the mouse?”
“You know the answer to that question.” He chuckled and headed off.
Chapter 67
The Awkward Goodbye
Kazimir
Next to the Mercedes-Benz V-class, I stood in the middle of King David and Blue, waiting for my mouse to arrive and dealing with my sister on the phone.
Valentina’s whiny voice rode the line. “Why cannot I come?”
“I told you why.”
“Am I not here in Italy to protect my brother?”
“You were injured and have barely allowed yourself to heal—”