Page 122 of Corrupted By You

Every time I bumped into him, he looked increasingly rough and amoral. The expensive cologne, Patek Phillipe, and the three-piece black suit couldn’t hide what lurked underneath: a fucking miscreant with a God complex.

I wasn’t one to judge, though. After all, he and I were cut from the same cloth.

Moreover, Darien was resourceful. It paid to have someone like him in your repertoire, working alongside you. We cashed in favours all the time. Like tonight, which was nothing short of a business transaction.

We stood against the brick wall of an old abandoned church on the North Side. It was desiccating, having seen better years, but it served its purpose for exchanges like these.

“What’s on your mind, Zed?” Smoke plumed out of his mouth and green eyes swept over me. “You’re quieter than usual,” he teased. “I’m sorry I missed the wedding. How’s married life treating you?”

“It’s treating me fine.” The only action I got lately was my right hand and my new definition of foreplay was playing chess with my wife at night. “Where have you been lately?”

“I was in Spain last week. Needed to acquire something. But I’m back now.”

“Temporarily?”

“Permanently.”

Interesting. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Turns out this city has something I want.”

Fair enough. “When’s the last time you were in France?” I asked the question that’d been pressing my mind since we got here.

Darien gave it some thought. “Seven weeks ago.”

“And did you happen to see Antoine when you were there?”

I didn’t have to say his last name.

He knew I was talking about Violette’s half-brother, who had an affinity for pills, booze, and the girls at Darien’s exclusive clubs.

“Last I saw Antoine Toussaint, I smashed a whiskey bottle on his head for trying to finger one of my waitresses,” Darien drawled. “Which was over a year ago.”

No one had heard from Gabriel and Antoine Toussaint in months. Yves and Ben both tried to contact them recently but received radio silence on their end. Close resources claimed that the two weren’t even living in their designated home in France. They were practically untraceable.

Clearly, Antoine was planning an ambush.

News travelled fast in our world and everyone knew the golden seat was now mine. There were a lot of people who were looking forward to working under the regime of a new seigneur, but a lot who were not.

It was an honour to be initiated amongst the De la Croixes. There were many crime families in the world, but none were tied with the kind of respect, wealth, and nobility as ours. Our long history had deemed us untouchable and sacred. Pledging your allegiance to us meant complete obedience.

Antoine would rather die than continue working for us—forme.

Moreover, no respectable family in our circle would have tolerated my actions. I fucked Violette on a mutual agreement and discarded her when I no longer wanted her, even though she asked for a ring. I never promised her anything beyond two fucks on a weekly basis, let alone marriage. Then I went ahead and married Darla Ivy Hill within weeks of knowing her, inadvertently telling the Toussaints that their daughter wasn’t good enough.

I messed with their pride and now Antoine was trying to teach me a lesson.

“Why are you asking?” Darien pushed inked fingers through his black hair as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“Merely curious.”

Curious about Antoine Toussaint’s whereabouts. The clown was one hundred percent back in Montardor.

And I was going to find him one way or another.

Even if I had to hunt for him day and night.

“You know, I always found that family screwed-up,” Darien said after a moment of pensive silence. “I’m not one to judge, but some of the things those siblings did…”