♱Recommended song: Could've Been By H.E.R.♱
"Fine-fine, I'll be there," I said, applying my lipgloss as I analyzed my face in the vanity mirror.
The woman on the other line hummed, "Good, you always bring in business," she said, knowing that the nightclub she owned would always be packed with people whenever I showed up.
I smiled slightly, "And you say you don't need me," I teased, which easily earned a laugh from her on the other end of the line.
"I'm not countering that one," she declared, knowing it would only boost my ego.
I lazily hummed, "I'll see you later Syd," I said, knowing the call was growing long.
"In an hour?"
I nodded to myself, "In an hour."
The woman hummed, "So that's two hours in Lunden time," she assumed, knowing how I liked to take my time.
I couldn't help but chuckle, "Two hours in Lunden time," I agreed before we mutually ended the call.
I let out a bored sigh, setting my lipgloss down on the vanity top.
"You can stop now," I said, looking down at the woman on her knees.
The woman pulled back from between my legs, wiping her mouth slightly as she said, "How did that feel?"
I forced a satisfied smile even if I felt entirely bored of her presence.
"Incroyable," I said in French, forcing my smile to grow. Translation: Incredible.
The woman smiled as she stood to her feet, "Maybe I'll see you tonight?" she asked, clearly hoping to see me again.
I let out an unamused hum as I stood to my feet, "I don't think so," I said, knowing I'd be onto someone different tonight. I lazily motioned to the door, "You can see yourself out."
I didn't bother giving the woman another glance as I headed over to the attached bathroom of my hotel room.
Paris was the same as it always was this time of year.
Which seemed to be as busy as ever with spring fashion week underway.
It had been six months since I left New Orleans—and while the first couple of months were rough, I found myself enjoying my freedom.
Especially now with new spring flowers blooming and the beautiful month of April coming to an end, which also meant summer was around the corner.
Her men have been guarding me up until this very moment, and I can't lie and say that I'm not enjoying putting on a show.
I know she's heard of all the women following me back to my room in each city I visit.
And somehow that leaves me entirely content—even if she deserves worse.
Meanwhile, the Saints and Reapers still seem to be going at it, and luckily for me, they decided to leave me out of it.
I haven't seen Vincent or Arya since I left—although my parents have visited me a few times.
We had shopping sprees in Milan, foodie adventures in Rome, and beach days in Greece.
Life was good—it was so good that it felt entirely refreshing.
And if my modeling career hadn't taken off before, it surely is now—At this point, I've worked with every fashion house, and they always seem to be calling me back for more.
I sighed, adjusting my white and blue floral top as I pulled my matching white skirt down.
After pulling on a silk white headband and brushing my long dark hair—I slipped on my black Valentino heels and grabbed some jewelry to put on.
I hummed to myself as I hooked my necklace around my neck, deciding I might get a drink at a nearby bar before heading over to Syd's club.
Fashionably late is always my motto.
I grabbed my small purse, slipping my key card and phone into it as I exited my hotel room.
But I was easily stopped in my tracks when I noticed her familiar presence standing by my door.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I questioned with an unamused look.
Out of everyone I expected to come visit me, it was definitely not her.
Arya forced a smile as she leaned off the wall, "I want to start by saying, I'm not here to kidnap you," she said, knowing it was best to give me the warning before I tackled her to the ground in a headlock.
I think I might still do that though.
I narrowed my eyes, "Wow how gracious of you," I sarcastically said, wondering where the men that usually guarded me went off to.
They never leave my side, so this was a bit odd.
Arya pursed her lips, "Could we talk?" she asked, easily earning an eye roll from me.
I couldn't help my displaced anger, not after the kidnapping that led to the falling out with her.
Subconsciously, I can only blame Arya.
"Oh, totally—it's not like I was leaving or anything," I said, turning back around to my hotel door and unlocking it.
Arya followed into the large hotel room behind me as I reluctantly put my purse down.
Guess I'm not going to that bar after all.
"Look, Lund—"
"Is this where you apologize? Because it would be nice if you could speed it up by cutting the speech short," I said, knowing I'd rather be leaving my hotel room in the next ten minutes.
Arya pursed her lips, "No, this is the part where I tell you that I uh... kind of put my father in a coma."
I froze slightly, and I hate to admit that my lips parted in shock.
"How do you just kind of do that?" I quoted her with a narrowed expression.
Jeez, this family and their so-called accidents.
Arya let out an exhausted sigh, fumbling with her hands, "I-I don't know..." she forced out, and I could see the tears growing in her eyes. "He was just getting out of control—and-and I couldn't let him hurt Vincent or the Saints when they haven't even done anything."
I remained silent, hating that I couldn't find an ounce of pity to feel for her.
It was mostly because I forced myself to become this way—I shut my emotions out, and I did it for so long that it's questionable if I'll ever get them back.
Tears fell from Arya's eyes as she sucked in a deep breath, "You were right Lunden—and I can't express how sorry I am," she forced out.
And at that point, I couldn't help but pull her into a hug, knowing that we all made mistakes.
I mean hers were definitely big, but when you have a parent guiding you so blindly—it's easy to fuck up by trusting them.
"What you did definitely wasn't okay," I said, hoping that she knew where my feelings were with the whole kidnapping situation, "But we can try to move past it—clearly you've proven your loyalty to the Saints."
Arya hugged me back—and it was so tight that I could feel her own guilt pass through to me.
"I'll spend every day making it up to you, I swe—"
But she was quickly cut off when the door to my hotel room slammed open and suited men flooded into the room with guns in their hands.
I let out a gasp when Arya was pulled from my arms and thrown against a wall by one of the men—forcing the brunette to let out a cry of pain.
And as all the suited men fell into line on the side—she emerged through them with Vincent by her side.
I hated how easily my breathing grew shallow at even her familiar presence—how my body struck frozen with shock.
I assumed the guarded men would've been up here soon—not a whole fucking SWAT team, just to take one person out.
One person that I could easily take out—even in heels.
Then on top of that, they were five minutes late... for all they knew, I could've been dead by now.
"This was a very obvious place to go," Vincent said, and to say he sounded so angry with Arya would be an understatement of the fucking year.
And it was clear that his coldness hurt her—shit it even hurt me.
The familiar woman hummed, "I was thinking paralysis would suit you best," she said, clearly indicating that she had given the idea some thought.
And I couldn't help but take in her colorful button-up shirt and loose light wash jeans—how her shiny hair was pulled back into a low bun as she remained facing away from me.
I gathered a breath, hoping to gather my nerves with it.
"You're not hurting her," I finally said, taking a step toward Arya.
Her dark eyes instantly darted to me—but it was only for a second until they inevitably looked away.
Vincent sighed, "Lundy, she has to pay," he explained, but I only shook my head.
"And she has—she put her own father into a coma," I said.
And just like that, her attention was back on me as she tilted her head slightly—and I hated that the action alone send a jolt of electricity through me.
"Lawson, I need you to confirm that for me," she said, motioning one of the suited men over.
And even her voice sent a wave of chills through me—it was something that I hadn't heard in so long.
"He's... he's at the local hospital," Arya breathed out as the suited man held her against the wall, constricting her airflow completely.
Silence fell over the room as the man named Lawson took a step back—mumbling into his earpiece.
And even if she was still a few feet from me, I unconsciously took a step back—suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
The act alone caused her eyes to drift back over to me, holding my stare entirely as her eyes openly traced my face.
It felt like such a long moment between us even if it managed to only last for a few seconds.
"It's confirmed boss—he's at the medical center on the East side," Lawsen finally spoke, forcing her to pull her attention away from me.
And even if Arya's loyalty had been confirmed, Vincent still rolled his eyes, "She's still a liar," he pointed out.
But the woman only motioned the suited man away from Arya—forcing him to let Arya go entirely.
"She delivered our highest enemy to us," the woman explained, clearly letting Arya off the hook.
Vincent only let out an irritated sigh as the suited men retreated from the room, leaving us four in an empty silence.
I honestly wanted to somehow blend in with the men so I could get away from the awkward silence as well.
Arya took a step toward my brother, "Vince—"
"Don't," Vincent cut her short, clearly not showing any forgiveness for the woman, "You lied and there's nothing that you can say or do to change that," he said, easily making Arya suck in a deep breath.
The act alone made something familiar run through me.
The feeling of being denied.
"I-I medicated him for you—don't you see that?" Arya questioned as tears grew in her eyes, but Vincent only took a step away from her. "Please, Vincent—please I'm sorry, I really am."
I pursed my lips, looking down to the floor as the awkward exchange unfolded before my eyes.
Internally, I wanted Vincent to move past it—life doesn't always consist of easy choices, but I could tell by the way he acted around Arya that she was different.
He'd be a fool to let her go, especially after what she just did to prove her intentions.
I mean, now she has no family at all—and the Reapers definitely won't keep her around.
Vincent let out a sigh, easily telling me that he was conflicted, "I want to forgive you, Arya, I do—but after what you did... it just seems like sorry isn't enough for me," he honestly said.
Arya looked down as tears fell from her eyes, forcing me to suck in a slight breath at the familiar feelings resurfacing—especially with her standing only a few feet away from me.
"I... I love you, Vincent," Arya whispered, her voice entirely broken and weak.
And just like that, I could feel her dark eyes on me again—clearly reliving the same moment that I was.
But I only avoided her stare, knowing that I couldn't even look at her, especially not right now.
Vincent shook his head, "I..." he trailed off, and deep down I prayed that he would say it back, especially after the rejection I went through.
It seemed like it would satisfy my subconscious to know that love could be real for some people.
"I love you too," Vincent whispered, shaking his head as Arya hesitantly walked over to him. "But I'm still not over what you did," he said, taking a step toward Arya to initiate a hug.
Arya didn't hesitate to lean into his arms, "We can take it one day at a time?" she questioned, which easily earned a nod from my brother.
"One day at a time," he said.
Glad to see it could be so easy for other people.
I awkwardly pursed my lips as I looked between the two, "Well, I'm happy for you guys," I interrupted the pair, grabbing my purse from the vanity. "I'll make sure to RSVP to the wedding," I said, clearly joking as I headed toward the door.
However, I was easily stopped when Vincent said, "Wait, where are you going?"
I turned my head slightly, "I have an appearance at a club," I reluctantly informed him, knowing that he would want to—
"We'll join you then," he said, easily making my face fall.