Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2) - Page 39

“I don’t understand you, Jean-Pierre Are you suicidal or—”

“I’m not suicidal.”

“Then it’s the alternative?” He leaned in and put his lips close to my ear. “You want to fuck me? Did you spray perfume on your cock too?”

“Celina is missing.”

“You say a woman’s name like I should know who that is.”

“Igor’s lover.”

“My uncle is dead! Whatever lovers he had they are no concern to me.”

This is getting us nowhere. He either doesn’t know what’s going on or won’t tell me.

Kazimir continued, “You should go. I don’t have the answers you seek, and you’re definitely not going to get that dance from me that you desperately want. Not a hug. Not a fucking caress. And if you mention my mouse again, Jean-Pierre, I will separate your spine from your body and dangle it around that one’s cock.” He gestured to Rafael and then walked back to his bench. “I’m in Paris for a short time.”

“Why?”

A deadly edge dotted each word. “I’m on vacation!”

“That’s a coincidence with everything going on, and I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Neither do I, but sometimes it is just that. A coincidence.” He placed the towel back over his head. “Calm down, Jean-Pierre. Relax. Perhaps, you need to go on vacation too.”

Giorgio still tried to hand Rafael a towel. Rafael flipped him off.

I sighed and looked at Kazimir. “When do you leave?”

“Very fucking soon. It appears the locals are a bit extra this week.”

Giorgio exhaled. “So, I think this is a good ending point. He’s on vacation. We can leave.”

Try not to run out of here, when you leave, Giorgio.

“Have a good time in Paris, Kazimir.” I nodded at him and walked away. “Just be very careful. Paris can be a violent city.”

He called back to me. “Not as violent as Moscow. I’m sure I’ll leave here without a scratch.”

“That depends on how long you stay.” I left the room, not really sure if I’d gotten real answers.

Could it all be that simple? Was Kazimir simply on vacation? Why had he reacted that way at the mention of the Mouse? And who the hell was killing the people that Eden cared for?

Kazimir may not know what’s going on, but his people definitely had something to do with this. The whole situation reeked of the Bratva.

We left the place with no problem and headed back to the perfume shop. My suit was soaked with sweat. It was the absolute last way I wanted to return to Eden.

“You believe him?” Rafael asked. He’d only put on his pants and shoes. He’d left everything else in the bathhouse.

“I don’t know what to believe,” I said. “Kazimir is cocky. To him having to lie to me, takes power away from him. There was a lot of truth into what he said.”

“Do you think he’s going after Shalimar?”

“He didn’t even remember Celina’s name. He was always higher than the situation. We’ll keep men on him and see what happens next.”

“And what about Shalimar?” Rafael asked.

That was one problem I wouldn’t deal with. Rafael had made his bed, and now it was his responsibility to get out of it.

“You do what you want. Shalimar doesn’t work for me anymore. Handle her how you please.”

Louis spoke up. “Just be nice.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rafael frowned.

I left Louis and Rafael to their argument. Giorgio had ignored all of us. Already his white wallet was out as he headed to the car. I knew he’d be wiping himself down the whole ride back to his place. And then he’d take an hour shower, scrubbing and washing and then scrubbing again.

No matter what, Giorgio never thought he was clean enough.

I stepped back into the perfume shop, pissed that I was so sweaty.

Voices rose in the store. The woman and Eden sang some song. I couldn’t get the lyrics. They were too drunk to truly comprehend.

I laughed as Eden screeched through the melody. “Living and the loving and the. . .wait what’s the other part.”

“I’m too drunk to remember.” Penelope giggled and spotted me. “There you are. You’re back. We were keeping each other company.”

“And we’re finished.” Eden showed me both bottles. “I did yours.”

Excited, I took my time sniffing each one. “I want this bottle.”

“Wait. That’s my perfume.”

“That was the point. I want to smell you when you’re not around.”

She took the other bottle. “Good. Now I have your scent too.”

“Forever.”

Penelope rose from her seat. “Well, you two, I’m heading upstairs. I own the whole building and live in the loft.”

“Oh okay.”

“I drank too much.” Penelope stumbled a little.

“Here you go.” I gave her my hand and helped her around the table.

“Oh, thank you. You’re such a big, muscular guy.” She giggled. “I need a nap. I’m too old to be drinking whiskey in the afternoon.”

“We’ll close up.”

“Hey, you don’t have to go. You paid $25,000 to have the shop for the afternoon. As far as I’m concerned, you can camp out here all week.” Chuckling to herself, she stumbled off and left us alone.

Tags: Kenya Wright Butcher and Violinist Billionaire Romance
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