CHAPTER 247: CHAPTER 248 ASHTON: CUT TIES

I drove the red convertible a few more blocks before turning into an underground car park off Rue de Vaugirard.

My men were already waiting.

One of them nodded, climbed into the convertible, and drove off.

Another opened the door of a plain black Peugeot.

It looked like any other car in Paris, except for the armoured chassis, reinforced undercarriage, and bullet-resistant glass.

Those modifications meant the inside was more cramped than usual, not helped by the fact that half the backseat was taken up by a man built like a powerlifter.

Kylian Martin popped the cork off a champagne bottle and shouted, ‘Surprise!’

I stared at him.

The bear of a man rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s empty. Simon’d have my head if I spilt booze in the car.’

I got in.

The driver twisted round in his seat. ‘Welcome back, boss!’

‘Good to see you, Olivier.’ I nodded at the red-haired man.

He flashed a grin so white it practically lit up the car. ‘Kylian told me you got married. Thought he was chatting shit till I saw it in the news. Still didn’t believe it. You can’t trust the media. One minute you’re shagging a pop star, next you’ve eloped with a duchess. No offence, boss, but—’

‘Eyes on the road, Rusty,’ Kylian cut in, sliding closer to me. ‘Ignore him, boss. He hasn’t shut up since I told him. So, is it true?’

Both pairs of eyes were on me.

‘It’s true.’

‘You’re really married? No way!’ Kylian’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

I showed him the ring.

He leaned in, squinting at it so closely I could feel his breath on my hand.

I shoved him off.

‘Damn!’ He grinned. ‘Congrats, boss. When do we meet the missus?’

I thought of Mira—and of Fabrizio, coming out of his office when I dropped her off.

He hadn’t touched her, but the way he lingered, the way he matched her stride, it made my knuckles itch.

And she was having dinner with him tonight.

Sure, there’d be others present, but that didn’t make it easier.

And knowing Fabrizio, he’d offer to walk her home, and they’d be alone.

‘Boss?’

‘What?’

‘You alright?’

‘Why?’

Kylian shrugged. ‘You had that look. Like you were ready to snap someone’s neck.’

‘It’s nothing.’

He didn’t look convinced.

‘Lea’s in town,’ he said after a pause. ‘Figured you should know.’

I frowned. ‘What’s she doing here?’

Titanova’s HQ was in Eindhoven. That’s where Lea belonged.

‘She wants to see you. We all do. She flew in yesterday, would’ve greeted you herself, but she got pulled into some last-minute video call.’

‘Shipment of semi-automatics got held up in Montenegro,’ Olivier said.

‘Seized?’ I asked.

‘No. Just flagged. Serial numbers didn’t match the bill of lading. Paperwork mess, I guess. I only caught bits of it. Lea’s handling it.’

‘Speaking of rifles,’ Kylian said, reaching for a silver briefcase on the passenger seat.

He flicked it open to reveal a tidy array of weapons—compact handguns, low recoil, slick matte finishes.

‘This one’s a Glock 43X. Lightweight, fires ten rounds, accurate at close range, and you can slip it into your jacket and no one’d know.’

I looked at the gun in his giant palm. It looked like a toy. ‘No.’

‘No?’ He blinked, like I’d said something in a foreign language.

‘I’m not carrying. Not anymore.’

It was a promise I’d made to Mira, not that she knew.

‘You serious?’ Kylian looked horrified. ‘You can’t walk around Paris without a gun. That’s like, like...’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Rusty, help me out here.’

‘Like going out with no trousers on,’ Olivier offered.

Kylian scowled. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Still true though,’ Olivier muttered.

Kylian turned to me. ‘His metaphor’s shit, but the point stands. You’ve got enemies.’

‘None of them know I’m here.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not part of Titanova anymore. And Titanova’s clean. If someone starts spraying bullets in the middle of Paris, it means every effort I made to clean up the company was for nothing. That, or you’ve run it into the ground in my absence. Is that what’s happened?’

‘Of course not!’ Kylian threw his hands up and smacked the roof. The metal gave a small dent under the impact. ‘I’m just worried about your safety.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Anyway,’ Kylian said, shutting the case, smart enough to know when to quit. ‘We’ll meet up with Lea. Go over the reports. Operations. Performance.’

‘I trust you with all of it.’ Kylian was Titanova’s CFO. Brains sharper than his fists—and those fists had taken down a man with a machete once. ‘I can’t stay long. Just give me the highlights. Any issues?’

‘Bialystok,’ Olivier said. ‘Our office is stuck in some ridiculous bureaucracy loop. Hidden fees, zoning disputes. And now every cousin and ex-owner within a hundred-mile radius is claiming they own the land. Someone’s blocking us.’

I flicked through my mental contact list. ‘I know a guy. He runs the local fixers. I’ll make a call.’

‘This is why you’re the boss!’ Olivier saluted me in the rear-view mirror.

The car pulled into a grim-looking building on Rue des Cévennes in the 15th arrondissement.

‘We bought the place,’ Kylian explained. ‘Figured it’d be a good forward base for our Paris expansion.’

I nodded, didn’t say anything.

Since I handed the reins over to Kylian, Olivier and Lea, I’d been easing myself out of Titanova.

The company would always be part of my history. But it didn’t need to be part of my and Mira’s future.

The lift took us to the eighth floor.

The doors opened straight into an office.

And standing right there in front of us was someone I hadn’t seen in years.

‘Ash.’

There were tears in her eyes.