Page 53 of Crown of Thorns (The Initiation #3)

NOAH

“ A re you sure this is the place?” Melo asks as we drive toward the gated properties. Three identical villas line the top of the embankment, gazing over the Atlantic Ocean like kings on a throne. She lets out an appreciative whistle.

“Yes. Park the car here.” I need a moment.

As Melo parks the Fiesta, I imagine Louis inside one of these mansions. Everything from the white stone and large windows to the lawns and gardens is perfectly maintained. Behind the fence, I see personnel walking around.

It’s been three days since his family dragged him out of the dungeons of Monterrey, and they have been hell.

I don’t know what he was like in the beginning, if he screamed or sobbed or simply shut down.

I wonder when he woke up. Did he think of me, the way I’ve been thinking of him?

I haven’t heard from him, not his voice, not a glimpse of his face, since they ripped him from my arms.

After the guards dropped me off at home, I stood in the hallway for a long time, keys in hand, staring at the door.

When I finally stepped inside, I didn’t bother turning on the lights.

I collapsed on the bed and didn’t move. Three days passed like that, quiet, dark, and unbearable. Nothing felt real without him.

“It’s a perfect summer day to celebrate your birthday,” Melo murmurs.

“I guess so.”

She turns to face me. “Louis wants to see you too, I’m sure of it.”

If only I could share that feeling. I’ve dialed his number countless times, but he never picks up.

Nothing has been posted on his social media either.

But there’s no going back now. We came all this way, and I promised myself I wouldn’t turn my back on Louis.

Never again. It’s time to fight for him. If he’ll still have me, that is.

“You okay, Nooms?”

“Yeah.” But we both know that’s a lie. Ever since that night in Monterrey Castle, I’ve been out of it.

My other half is missing. My heart is aching.

I miss Louis with a fierceness that should terrify me, but it doesn’t.

It defines me now. I’ve passed the phase of fear.

So here I am, in front of his house, unannounced, in an attempt to save us from breaking into a thousand pieces.

I wouldn’t survive that.

Melo glances at me, her expression soft. “He will take you back, you know. That man is crazy about you.”

Something shatters in my chest. “I screwed up, sis. I hurt Louis and I... I don’t know if I can fix it.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

I nod, the ache in my chest spreading like fire.

Perhaps coming here will make the deathblow easy for Jean-Luc. He can simply fire me, right on the spot. But I can’t put myself to care. Not when I’m fighting against losing my love. My heart.

Melo lets out a heavy sigh. Her hand gives mine a firmer squeeze.

"You know, I'm proud of you. For coming back.

For openly loving who you love. I still can't believe that's what Dad sent you away for.

" Her voice shakes now. "I always wondered.

And now that I know... he destroyed our lives. Tore you out of mine. And for what?"

She exhales shakily. "I was seven when you were taken from me. And I’ve missed you ever since. I never understood why you left. Mom and Dad told me you didn’t want to live with us anymore. For years, I thought it was my fault. That if I’d been better, or happier, thatyou would’ve stayed."

Her fingers tighten briefly. "Then the rumors started. They said you and Dad didn’t get along.

That you were a rebel. The local news ran some interview that made you sound like someone I didn’t even recognize.

Then came the stories. How you wanted to be a pop star, or an actor, or a footballer.

None of it ever felt real. Just noise around your absence. "

“Ugh.”

She snorts. Her hand touches mine. “Exactly. But then, the stories faded away. People moved on with their lives, other news made the headline, and you were still gone. And then you came back. All those years later. I didn’t expect you to come back for their funeral.

But I’m so fucking grateful.” She blinks fast, eyes shining.

“So whatever it is you think you broke, we’ll fix it.

Louis still loves you. That much is obvious. ”

Releasing my hand, she puts the car in first gear and leaves the curb.

I huff out a laugh, but my chest trembles with nerves. I really hope she’s right. “It’s possible the family won’t let us in, you know?”

Melo looks offended. “After that painting I made Louis for his birthday? No way they’re turning us away. Let’s go make this right.” I nod, heart thudding. Whatever’s waiting behind that gate, I’m ready to face it.

She’s right. I can’t keep hiding. I didn’t come this far to walk away again.

Driving up to the guarded fence, Melo rolls down her window, showering the stoic guard with her flashing smile. “Hey there. We’ve come to see Louis.”

“The birthday party isn’t until tomorrow.”

I clear my throat and lean toward him. “I am Professeur Noah Montague. Jean-Luc Deveraux invited me to the property.”

The guard barks something through an intercom, and my chest tightens while we wait.

Finally, the fence opens. “You can park in the available spots on your right.”

The inner square looks impressive, with ceramic tiles and palm trees. A butler’s waiting for us at the entrance of one of the three mansions.

“Holy shit. Look around, Nooms. This place is insane.”

“Yeah,” I mutter.

Squaring my shoulders, we follow the butler inside. Music plays in the living room, the ceiling-to-floor windows open to a breathtaking view of a garden with a swimming pool and the Atlantic Ocean behind it.

Jean-Luc stands by one of the couches. Tall and dark, stern and dangerous, he looks impeccable in a pair of fashionable shorts and a t-shirt. Sunglasses sit in his black mane. He’s barefoot. His gaze slides from Melody who’s dragging Louis’s birthday gift inside with help from the butler, to me.

High heels clack against the polished wooden flooring and in walks Natalie, a bright smile on her face.

“Professor Montague. What a surprise.”

“A surprise it is, indeed,” Jean-Luc deadpans.

Natalie rolls her eyes. “ Amour . Behave.”

He grunts, then gestures for his office. I start to follow—but before stepping fully into the room, I turn around.

Melody is standing near the entrance, watching. When our eyes meet, she gives me a small, firm nod and lifts her thumb.

I breathe once, deeply, then follow them inside.

The office is minimalist, sharp lines and heavy glass, everything in neutral tones—clean, controlled, expensive. A single painting hangs behind the desk, stark and abstract. Jean-Luc stands like he owns every molecule in the room.

“Tell me why you're here."

I meet his eyes. “For Louis. To ask for his forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” he echoes, voice like splintered stone. “You think you get to walk back into this house, into his life, after what you did? You wrote a report that dissected our lives. Our secrets. You exposed a centuries-old institution—and you think a few tears and an apology will fix that?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Jean-Luc’s laugh is cold. “You didn’t mean to? You turned him into a liability. Do you know what kind of damage you caused? What it took to stabilize him once we got him out of there?”

My jaw tightens. “I know I ruined things. But I didn’t do it out of malice. I was trying to make sense of what I’d seen. I was terrified. And I was in love.”

Jean-Luc steps closer. “You’re saying love made you betray him?”

“No. Fear did. Love is the only reason I’m here now.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t get to use that word.” He gestures sharply. “You don’t know what it costs to protect someone like Louis. To keep him alive.” He exhales hard. “You came into our world and tore it apart.”

I force the words through the lump in my throat. “Then let me make it right. I’m not asking you to trust me today. I’m just asking for the chance to earn it. Every breath I take will be to earn his trust again.”

Jean-Luc’s eyes harden. “Why should I believe you won’t do it again? That next time things get difficult, you won’t fold?”

“I’ve already lost him once,” I say, voice cracking. “I won’t survive it again.”

He stares at me, silent for too long. My pulse pounds in my ears.

“So I’m here,” I add, quieter, “not as a professor. Not as a researcher. Just... as a man who knows he fucked up. And who will spend the rest of his life making up for it, if you let him.”

“Amour,” Natalie hushes, stepping into the office to join us, “let the professor talk.”

I shake my head. “To get caught up in Louis as badly as I did... I couldn’t face him, not when I didn’t even understand what I’d uncovered.

But now I do. I understand what I almost destroyed.

I’ve seen what life looks like without him, and I can’t go back to it.

He’s in every breath I take, every quiet second.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I deserve to breathe beside him again. ”

I glance down, voice rough. “Please let me see him.”

Natalie smiles. “He’s been miserable without you too.”

“Darling…”

She flutters her lashes at her husband. “What? You’ve talked to Louis. You know what he wants.”

Jean-Luc exhales, low and reluctant. He looks away, jaw working. For a moment, he just stands there, then drags a hand through his hair.

“I know,” he mutters finally. “I know he wants you. That doesn’t mean I trust you.”

He moves to the desk and hesitates. The grudge is still there, coiled in his shoulders. He exhales again, slower this time. The edge in his eyes dulls, just slightly. But his fingers rest on a folder, and after another breath, he pushes it across the desk toward me.

The air between us shifts, heavier now. Whatever’s in that file, it’s not just information—it’s history. Jean-Luc slides a folder across the desk toward me. I look down, reading the letters printed on the file. Georges Guinand. Granddad.

He grimaces. “Years ago, Georges accused Zachary of rape. The case was buried. But Zachary never forgot. He spent years making your life in Paris a nightmare—blacklisting you, orchestrating those beatings, the sudden failures, the threats. All of it.”

My breath catches. It wasn’t just bad luck. It was him. All along.

Jean-Luc exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess I owe you an apology too, because I wasn’t aware.

When he handed me your CV, I wanted you immediately.

A poor kid who’d become one of the youngest professors of our country?

It was exactly the sort of modernization Saint-Laurent needed.

Someone who’d done multiple publications on group behaviour?

You sounded like fate. Since you’d changed your name, I didn’t connect the dots. ”

He pauses. “As for Zachary...he’s been taken into custody. The Board has disavowed him. What happens next is yours to decide. You know how we deal with betrayal, Noah. Quietly, and in blood. I won’t tell you what to do. But I think you already know.”

My throat locks tight. I stare at the floor, pulse ringing in my ears.

“There’s one more thing,” Jean-Luc says. He opens a drawer and pulls out a sleek black folder, marked with a gold emblem. “If you want to stay in Louis’s life, you’ll sign this.”

He looks at me, expression hard. “Prove your love."

I blink at the folder. My hand shakes slightly as I reach for the pen resting beside it. “An NDA?”

He nods. “Binding. Irrevocable. You didn’t sign one before. That was an oversight.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“Then you walk out of here and never come back.”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. My fingers curl around the pen, and I press it to the page. “I’ll sign it.” The sound of my name sliding across the paper is too loud in the quiet room. But when it’s done, I look up and I don’t regret it.

Jean-Luc studies me for a beat longer. “Good. Because if you ever betray this family again, if Louis bleeds because of you, I will make sure no one finds where I bury you.”

There’s a knock at the door. Arthur slips in, wearing pale linen, eyes shining as if he’s been crying. He doesn’t say anything. He just steps aside and Louis walks in behind him.

My heart drops to my knees.

He’s barefoot, swimming in sweats and a loose cotton shirt that hangs off him like a memory. Wrinkled. Pale. Unsteady. His hair is unwashed, falling messily into his eyes. There are purple half-moons under both of them.

He stops when he sees me. His lips part. His breath hitches, and something flickers in his expression—shock, hope, disbelief.

I’m already across the room. “Louis...”

He surges toward me with a broken, desperate noise. I catch him before he stumbles. His arms wrap around my neck, pulling me close, trembling against me. I bury my face in his shoulder. He smells like hospital soap and himself.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper.

He whimpers. “You didn’t.”

Louis squeezes my hand nearly painfully, a crooked grin tugging at his lips—mischief and relief warring on his face.

Then he falters, like he's seeing my face for the first time in forever. The others leave the room quietly. I don’t hear the door close, only the silence they leave behind. It’s just us now.

Finally .

“You still want me.” His voice is hoarse, as if he hasn't spoken in days. There’s so much packed into those four words it nearly breaks me.

Beneath the warmth of his skin, I feel the tremble of a soul still healing and the way his breath stutters in my neck confirms it.

He clings to me, but there’s a hesitation in his weight, like part of him isn’t sure I’ll stay.

He’s not hiding anymore, not behind his charm, not behind defiance.

This is Louis, open and raw. Fragile in a way I’ve never seen.

And it terrifies me, because I realize I can’t just love him, I have to prove it. Fight for him. Earn back every second we lost.

Lifting our hands, my chest swells, and I kiss every single one of his fingers one by one, tracing the ink with my tongue. Our eyes meet.

“I love you, Louis. I’m so sorry… so fucking sorry.” I guide him closer to my chest, needing to feel his warmth. Desperate to give him mine.

He leans forward, uncoordinated but certain that I’ll catch him if he falls. “You’re not allowed to leave me. Ever.”

His words ignite me alive, and we grab each other’s face with trembling hands.

“I won’t.” My voice is steady now, anchored by the weight of him in my arms.