kind thing a day, just one, that would be a start.”
“I do kind shit all the time. I took you in, didn’t I?” And with those distinctly unkind words, he grabs my bag and jogs down the stairs, leaving me staring at the back of his head.
Asshole.
PART TWO
War is father of all and king of all; and some he manifested as gods, some as men.
Heraclitus
Chapter Twelve
Konstantin
It’s been some time since I’ve been to my Paris home. It’s nestled within an exclusive modern development of new houses, but made to look old. The architecture fits in well with the classic houses and apartments surrounding the development. The community is gated and guarded. It’s one reason I went for this. The other is it is quiet and private. No one snooping around, which with some of the women I’ve dated in the past matters.
I keep more staff here than I do at my property in England. I think of this place more as home, and it most definitely has more of my personal stamp on it. It’s one reason I wanted to bring Cassie here, because deep down, if I’m honest. I want to impress her.
I’d live here full-time if work weren’t in London. I love Paris. Love the life here, the beauty, the galleries, all of it. I get why Andrius likes his home in Corfu so much, but to me Paris offers the perfect mix of beauty, and quiet, if you know where to look for it. It also has plenty of big city vibrancy, but on a more refined scale than London.
Cassie called her friend on the flight, and I had thought she might gush over the plane, but she didn’t. She seemed…unsure much of the time. I’m hoping the house has her more excited. It’s stunning, and I’m oddly excited for her to see it.
We’re traveling from the jet to the house in a private limo, and yes, sue me if it’s over the top. I felt like putting on a show for Cassie for reasons I don’t quite understand. The fact that she doesn’t seem remotely impressed so far has pissed me off. Look at her, sitting there all nonchalant. Why doesn’t this impress her? It worked on all the other women, why not her? Is she somehow above this? Above me? The thought has acid burning in my stomach. She might act like she’s better than me, but I can make her kneel for me if I so desire, and not by force either. That she’ll do because she wants to. It’s a heady power rush for me.
Tonight, I’m going to make her fucking crawl for me the way I would for her.
I stare out the window, my mind on what I want to do to Cassie, when the development appears around the corner.
The lights of a few of the homes twinkle in the dusk, and the gatehouse is welcoming, warmly lit up, not looking like the heavily guarded entrance it actually is. Armed men are in charge of the security of this development. No wonder, as the apartments here vary from five million, up to sixty million for the most expensive homes. Mine is twenty million. It’s stunning, but the reason I purchased the property is due to its location. It sits right at the back of the farthest street, away from the other properties, secluded and private. Behind it is a copse of woodland, and beyond that more of the Parisian streets. Looking out from the house, though, you’d be forgiven for believing you were in the middle of a tiny village or the countryside. You can’t see or even hear the bustle of Paris beyond this enclave. It’s there though, the city, and all the life it provides. This is a highly expensive area, heavy police presence, and that makes it safe.
We pull up outside the house, the crunch of tires on gravel sounding in the car as the door opens and light spills out into the gloom. Madame Bernard opens the door, standing in the shaft of light, her white shock of hair swept up around her head in a style more befitting someone from the 1900s. Her starched uniform is as perfect as ever. She oversees a cook, two maids, the gardener, and a handyman who comes once a week to do any odd jobs.
When we exit the car, she beams at me. “Bonjour, Konstantin.”
It took me years to get her to call me by my first name, but now she