Sunrise Malice: Chapter 47
My boots crunch over blackened wood. Glass, plaster, and debris are scattered all over the floor. Caution tape is wrapped around cones, blocking certain hallways that are too dangerous to go through. The stairs to the second floor are a splintered mess.
The mansion is a freaking wreck.
I pick up a priceless oil painting, or at least I think it was priceless. Now it’s a smoke-damaged mess. The edges are scarred from the fire. I toss it onto a pile and move on, picking up artifacts as I go along. Vases, sculptures, anything that looks like it might’ve been valuable at one time. It all goes into the pile.
“What do you think?” Julien appears ahead of me. He’s wearing work gloves and is sweating lightly. “Think we can salvage it?”
I walk over and kiss him. He leaves a smear of blackened soot across my cheek. I try to wipe it off, but it’s no use.
“Definitely not. Let’s burn it down.”
He laughs and kisses me again. “Tried that already. Got any other ideas?”
“Bulldozers and wrecking balls.”
We walk together back through the mess and end up in the kitchen. There are still blood stains on the floor and the walls. The police combed through the place over the last couple months, but thanks to Julien’s generous bribery, the place has been cleared and returned to his care. At least, what’s left of it.
“I don’t know,” he says, lifting up a metal pan and tossing it aside. It clatters onto a metal shelf. “I think we can save this place.”
“How’s that exactly? It’s burned and covered in blood.”
“Fair point, but the bones are still solid.” He pats a wall and his hand busts a hole straight through the sheetrock. “Well, most of it, anyway.”
“You seriously want to rebuild?”
“I seriously want to rebuild.” He pulls me with him and gestures around as we walk. The place is a total mess. Not only did the fire do some brutal work, but people must’ve been coming and going through here for a while, looting and making messes.
But as we go, Julien gestures around him. He talks about what a new mansion might look like. A mansion we design and create together. “Den here, office here, sitting room here.” He spins a web of a home for the two of us with plenty of space for more. “Guest rooms. Kids’ rooms.” He shrugs, grinning slightly.
“Kids’ rooms?”
“I’m thinking five or six.”
“How about three?” I jab him in the chest. “If you’re lucky.”
“We’ll say a tentative four then.” He sweeps me against him and kisses me again. “I want this, mon minou. We can make something new.”
“I don’t know. It’s going to take a lot of work.” I chew my lip, looking around. “And a lot of money.”
“I have money. I’m not afraid of work. Do this with me.”
I shake my head, grinning at him, and get on my toes. I press my lips to his. “If you insist.”
“That’s my girl.” We start walking together, and now the vision’s beginning to wedge its way into my head. I can see a pool and a garden in the back, guests lounging on chairs, a bar over there, a library through that door. A whole life in this place, built for us.
“I’m going to have some requests,” I tell him once we reach the front of the house again. “And you’re going to fulfill them.”
“That’s my only goal in life. To fulfill you.”
“More like to fill me,” I say, waggling my eyebrows.
“Brianne, was that a dirty joke?” He grabs my ass and I laugh. “It was. Look at you.”
“Well, what did you expect? We crossed off everything on the stupid list. You’ve sullied me.”
“No, darling. I’ve expanded your horizons.”
“I’m used and ruined now.”
“Baby, there’s so much more we can explore. That’s the beauty of fucking you.”
“What a gentleman.” I roll my eyes, but I do love the way he’s always moving closer to me, always touching me, always grabbing my ass and kissing me. Like he can’t help himself.
“You’re going to be my queen,” Julien says, kissing my neck. “You and me, Brianne. We’re going to build something. No more ties back in France. No more Pascal questioning every move I make. It’s going to be us.”
“I like that,” I say, leaning into him. “And I love you.”
“I love you too.”
There’s a shout before he can kiss me again. I turn around and spot Jean picking his way toward us with several of the French soldiers in tow. He stops nearby, beaming at the pair of us, and Julien turns to face him.
“Brought the muscle,” he says, gesturing at the men. “What’s the plan, boss?”
Julien pauses for a moment. He puts a hand on the small of my back. Then he nods at the mansion.
“Let’s get to work.”
“Works for me,” Jeans says and waves a hand at the guys. “Hear that, boys? We got a job to do.”
“We’ve all got a job,” I say and head over to join them.