XXII.

R A Z O R ' S  E D G E

—aka, dangerous liaisons at midnight,

INT— A RESTAURANT.

PARIS, FRANCE — NIGHT.

SCENE II.

I TIMED EVERYTHING perfectly.

Kristoff was a busy man, and for the past several days, Paris had taken his attention, dragging him through meeting after meeting. It came to a point that I couldn't even try to listen in on their hushed conversations, because they always came back too late and I was too tired to wait for them.

I was lucky if I even had Archie to eat with. For now, I was alone.

... Alone was a relative term of course. I still had the extensive bodyguards.

Which is why timing is important.

With the spies having seen an intimate moment with Louis, they would tell KC no doubt. Who would then report it to a very unpleasant man.

"Archie Noh," I said in lieu of a greeting, tossing my curled strands behind me as I sat in front of him. Plates and wine glasses have already been topped off, which meant the bastard had already ordered without me.

I crossed my leg once I sat down, watching him fiddle with that tablet of his. "I don't understand you."

Archie looked up, sighing as I stared pointedly at the device in his hand, before putting it down. He folded his hands in front of him, and looked at me both as an animal he was trying to dissect, and an enemy he wanted to strangle.

"I must say the same thing, Ms. La Verne. Your choices vex me beyond belief."

I smiled, taking the wine and toasting him. "I'll take that as a compliment. But what I don't understand is why we're having dinner so publicly like this. Don't get me wrong, I do like eating out of a hotel room now and again, but shouldn't I be more afraid of you stabbing me in the privacy of the room, and opt to have dinner in public than vice versa?"

"It's because I don't understand you and your games that we're here."

I hummed. That was a lie there. Or maybe not entirely a lie, but he was deflecting. Meaning something else.

Interesting. Fine. I'll play for now.

I leaned forward, rubbing the amethyst and gold lining my ear, before smiling like a cat in front of a mouse. "Do tell."

His eyes narrowed. "We already know about the British Countess' French nephew, even his connections with Interpol, as well as yours— and by the way you acted this afternoon, you knew it too."

"I didn't know it, know it. I figured it was a matter of time before the police talked to the victims after all."

"So why the hell did you meet up with him? And those papers." His eyes glinted behind his glasses. "We took the soggy remains after you had tossed them in the Seine, but I must say, I don't like this feeling that I'm dancing into the same trap all over again."

I laughed, friendly and sweet. Archie was good. I made sure the papers were melted piles of nothing when I tossed them in the river, so he's doing nothing else but fishing for what those wet mess meant.

"Did you think I was going to pull another Venice standoff on you? Don't worry. I swear on my bastard father's poor, poor soul that whatever I'm doing now isn't about you or your precious master."

He sighed. "How am I supposed to believe that?"

"Well— Oh." I pressed my fingers lightly to my mouth and smiled at the waiters waiting at the fringes to serve the entree. Scallops, some salad. I smiled at the waiter. "Merci."

He blushed. "Mon plaisir, mademoiselle."

After they left, Archie scoffed.

"What? You chose the food. I just got here."

He shot me a look so withering I wonder why I haven't petrified yet. But even Archie has his own charms. His table etiquette is good, though his manners needed a little polishing. He was funny in his own way, and for people who like a stubborn son of a bitch, I'm sure they'd like him too. And he was pretty. That silky hair, that sharp jaw, that androgynous charm.

I've seen how some strangers reacted to him. Even older ladies. The hunger in them always made me giggle.

"I don't understand how people just... fall at your feet."

I waved my fork. "It's the face."

"Hmm."

"For a second there, I thought you were going to insult my face for some reason."

"I think a compliment from me is the last thing you need, but you already know what you look like." He settled me with a look. "You were saying earlier?"

"Well. I guess you do deserve an explanation." I wiped my mouth with the napkin. "What I'm doing won't hurt you or your master, in fact, it will benefit you."

"Benefit? Elaborate."

"Knew you'd like that." I took a deep breath. "I'm trying to fix the loose ends. Apart from the fact that I'm already in Paris despite several,"— several — "reroutes and plans changing of the contrary, I find myself at a delicate, dangerous balance and a heavy burden with all of Kristoff's plans. Especially now that he's doing business here in Paris, if I also have to count the eyes and knives I have accumulated in the past that are still very much into hunting me down, I thought I might make it easier for myself by smoothing over a few strands. This way, I can fully dedicate myself to one job."

He watched me for a while, gauging something, enough that a new course of meal came. "That would make it easier for everyone involved."

I smiled sarcastically. "I'm so glad you approve."

He shot me another glare. "Careful."

"That's the thing, Archie babes, I'm always careful."

For his own peace of mind, he chose to ignore this. "How do you propose to deal with the French aristocrat?"

I speared a steak. "That's for me to know, and for you to leave me alone."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you need me to hide this from Kristoff?"

"As if you will." I scoffed. "I wasn't born yesterday. And no, not really. When will his schedule calm down?"

His arched eyebrow rose higher.

I laughed. "Touché. Since it won't hurt him or your plans, I'm just hoping you won't tell him too soon especially when things haven't happened yet. Agent Baudelaire just found out I'm in her sphere. If you are open for favours though... Can you find out if the Countess Audreyena Thorbatten is hosting any galas in the foreseeable future?"

"Gala?"

"A gala, a party, a soiree of any kind. I'm not going there to make a scene or anything, or steal anything." I touched my collarbone, the diamonds in my hand glimmering against the light. "You've already made sure I always have a nice set of baubles on me."

I thought he would outright refuse but— "...I'll see what I can do."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"You don't have to look so surprised. If this will make it easier for you to do your job, and if it will prevent the Interpol's further probing, I can pull a few strings and play a few people."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

He sighed. "What is it now?"

"Nothing. Thank you is all."

He inclined his head as an acknowledgement and we finished the rest of our meal in silence.

My thoughts, of course, I kept to myself. They were my shield and best sword. But just as Archie Noh was Kristoff's best sword, his assassin, and co-mastermind, he was also his last flag of defence.

If KC was the first, Archie was the last.

Every little secret, every little plan, Archie was there.

I did have an inkling about that, but having those papers I got today, read until they burned in my thoughts, before making sure the ink melted in the waters of Seine. All those gazes, even I couldn't help but smile as I knew they were itching to see what those papers read, but each one I used to fold over rocks. I waited until I was sure they were gone.

And if Archie knew I knew a few things about him now too.    

SCENE III.

That night, I knew I had to make a call.

I waited on the bed, pretending to be asleep as much as I could, breathing even just in case, even when Kristoff came back. About an hour later and I was sure the world was dead, I kept every inch of noise deep, deep into the well of my bones before I moved to the ornate closet that I had kept ajar when I changed.

Of course, planning this beforehand, the hinges were as silent as a grave as I closed it with the softest thud before dialling my saviour. The call picked and I was met with stony silence.

"It's me," I whispered.

A minute more before he sighed. "...For someone who's life is precarious right now, you're calling way too often."

"I'm in a safe space, you know me."

"Nothing where you are is safe," he scoffed. "You're in the arms of the devil."

"I just wanted to say thank you, is that so hard to believe?"

"Keep your thanks by staying alive."

My heart stuttered. "I will. I miss you too, baby brother. And I'm sorry."

"... Ever stupidly sentimental. Silence is safety. So quit calling... And I... I miss you too. Just take care of yourself okay?"

"Okay."

With the call dead, I clutched the phone to my chest, taking a slow, big gulp of breath, and cursing the stinging in my eyes. I knew it was stupid. I knew I didn't need to call. But it wasn't for him as much as it was for me. I felt so tired, and I wanted to be safe.

Rich, sure, but also safe.

I tucked the phone around several layers of lingerie before I padded back to bed, snuggling deep into the covers. But before I could dream of riches and softly moving waves, all the hairs around my body straightened as I heard the door click, swing, and open.

Before I could decide to scream, hit, or run, the footsteps padded over my side, and I felt the softest brush of fingers across my face.

Control your breathing, control your breathing. Dead asleep, dead asleep.

I wasn't a light sleeper perchance, but I do wonder if this was the first time Kristoff Park ever visited me well in the night.

Maybe I should ask him?

"For a great actress, you're very bad at fake sleeping."

Or not.

I glared at the dark figure looming over like the boogeyman. On one hand he was holding his unfaltering whiskey, and on the other, he continued to stroke my face.

"I am not a bad fake sleeper, and yes, I am a great actress."

"Did you take offence? I apologise."

I sighed, sitting up. There was no point teasing him like that when I'm feeling like this. I felt his gaze on me, across my skin and the silky top I was wearing. Ever the man. I took the glass from him and took a sip. "You look and sound tired."

"Do I?" He ran a hand through his hair.

I sighed, giving him back the glass. "No, you don't. You look utterly sinful."

His dress shirt without the tie or jacket, just pushed at the hems with several buttons popped off at the top? His messy hair and tired, calculating eyes? Of course not. He looked gorgeous as everything you can ever want and never get.

"May I?"

I'm not sure what he was referring to, but I waved him away. He sat on the edge of the bed, still holding onto that whiskey. With him closer, the shadows had retreated from his face, and there he was. Those dark eyes, the features that are relaxed but withheld.

I laughed under my breath. "Just there?"

He gave me a look I couldn't understand, but instead of taking it as another bit of teasing, he placed his glass down and scooted over to my side, giving me another pointed look when he didn't fit, and I moved until he settled beside me.

I blinked. Okay... heart to heart it is. But he didn't say anything, and the silence wasn't stifling enough for me to break it. Instead I sighed, choosing to think of this as a respite. Emotions are messy, and talking to my brother, missing him, had temporarily ruined all my walls for scheming.

So I leaned into the moment. I let it be. I pulled myself closer to Kristoff's body, sat on my bed with his shoes on the side like the weirdest invader, and rested my head on his shoulder.

He stiffened, our breathing the only thing up in the air, before he relaxed.

"I wanted to ask you something in the morning, but now might be a fine time as any."

"What is it?"

"If there was a party of an acquaintance, would you like to be my date?"

"Is this what Archie asked of me tonight?" he asked, voice deep. I could feel the vibrations of his words resonate against my own body. "Sure. I will do it."

"Is there a party?"

"He's still going to check, but I will be there. In whatever you need."

I smiled, moving my chin to his shoulder. "I knew you'd like it."

"Anything beneficial is more than enough."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back, and he turned his head to me. I touched his strong nose lightly, even when I wanted to give him a good pinching. "Of course you'd say that."

"Do you think I'm selfish?"

"Yes, but. You know what you want, and why shouldn't you? Personally speaking, I can't fault you for that. Wanting, desiring something is a natural instinct, but to actually know what you want and actively pursue it?" I sighed as he cupped my face. It was a small touch, a hold, but I felt warm and comfortable more than anything.

"If that is selfish, then I guess I find that attractive."

"I'm glad," he murmured, brushing his knuckles across my mouth. "Because so do I. Even if I don't know how to move around you."

My smile widened, leaning into his chest. "Because despite what Archie thinks of me, I've never played a pawn's role. I'm not a soldier, nor a disposable move." I lightly pressed my lips against his knuckles, before I leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. "I'm a queen."

I looked at him, just the same teasing, just the same pretty smile.

He reached for my face and swallowed me whole.

The kiss deepened, pulling, unravelling. I moved around his lap, straddled him, and fought just as ferociously back. I tasted him, the whiskey, and the desperation. The want that mirrored mine. His hands were iron-hot, pressing against my camisole until they slid and pressed against my skin.

I tugged his hair back, eliciting a groan from him before he broke the pent-up kiss, moving to my chin, neck, biting and sucking— moving so desperately, it was making my head spin — before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me back. His eyes were dark, his lips wet, and I grinned like a lion winning against a gazelle.

"Had enough?" I asked, breathless, a little disappointed.

"No," he answered darkly, making me bite my lip to keep myself from laughing.

I rubbed a thumb against his bottom lip despite being held so far away when seconds ago I was literally on top of him. He breathed against my hand, eyes at half mast.

"Always so... honest. You should really learn how to fucking lie."

He slapped my thigh.

"Hey!"

He covered my mouth, eyes challenging. "Shh. You'll wake the others. I told you not to swear."

"Mmmmhmh!"

For the first time since the birth of Christ probably, Kristoff cracked a devious little smile. "I told you. A monster with manners." He moved us around until I was underneath him, his body hovering very lightly over me. Not to put weight, just to remind me of his build. His scent. His overwhelming strength and presence. He was flooding my senses, just like that very first night.

Him and nothing else. Him and everything those memories promised I could have.

He raised my chin, our lips barely touching. I arched my back, trying to grasp, but he pulled back and he smirked again.

Fucking loony fucking bastard.

"That look says I should slap your thigh again." He sat back down, adjusting himself. "But no. Not tonight."

"Sure." I brushed a hand across my mouth, locking my jaw. I wanted to simultaneously bite his head off and shove him down and go back to where we were heading off to.

He laughed under his breath as he stood. "Another time, Antonina. When I know I can satisfy you. Good night."

I blinked. "Good... night, Kristoff."

As the door clicked shut, I murmured an audible, "Fuck."