Author: BabyDollAndGiantFreaK PM
Beau's addicted to cigarettes, alcohol, gambling, and apparently his French and beautiful childhood friend Brielle. The last thing Brielle wants is Beau because despite the fact that his kisses make her toes curl and shivers run down her spine, he makes her want to shoot him in the face. Oh and the fact that they did try to kill each other too.Rated: Fiction M - English - Crime/Drama - Chapters: 6 - Words: 12,820 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 07-19-12 - Published: 06-21-12 - id: 3034637
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I slowly dragged the cigarette away from my lips. I inhaled and picked up my glass of whiskey.
As the dealer flipped over the last card I threw my hand in and watched as the man adjacent from me took the pot.
I tuned back in to reality. The bells, buzzes, and incessant chatter flooded my ears. The sound of chips and coins made me frown. I ran my fingers through my shaggy, bed hair. A strand of my dirty blond hair fell to the floor.
I stood up and headed for the exit.
Inside my hotel room I pulled off my skinny black tie and put out my cigarette.
The sheets were fresh and smelled like crisp starched linen unlike the cheap scent of the woman who occupied my bed earlier this morning. I checked my phone before plugging it into the charger.
I striped off my clothes as I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I patted my face and noticed the slight dark circles under my eyes.
Making my way to my bed I stepped on my discarded pants. I pick them up and pull out the gun. I pat it and put it in the drawer next to the usual bible.
Sleep hits me as soon as I touch the bed.
My father had once been best friends with a man, and together they created two businesses. One for the world to know about and another that was buried far underground. The first one was called Holman and Scheffler and became the leading international trading company until it was later split into L'Ouverture and Charbonneaux. The second company was also split into two when they parted ways, but it wasn't even a fraction of the other business. They had built a company that specialized in assassination. My father's side took the more physical approach while Mr. Holman took a more chemical approach.
My older brother was bred to take over Charbonneaux when the time came. While I was raised to work under him at Charbonneaux but lead the underground business.
The current situation is that the only heir to L'Ouverture is Mr. Holman's daughter. My latest assignment is to kill her. The problem? Besides the fact that she's wickedly beautiful and could very well inherit the title as s duchess of France as well-due to her mother's side- she's also well trained in the underground business too.
And killing one of the hottest women in the world and my childhood friend? Makes it even harder.
I adjusted my duffle and handed the woman my ticket and ID for a moment. She gave me a coy smile and all I could muster was a curt closed mouth smile.
I wanted to go grab a drink. Something with a kick that could get my mind off of things. But I chose to put my headphones in and sit in the terminal until the plane arrived.
I had seen her on tv and magazines for years. To the world she's Brielle L'Ouverture-Holman. But to the underworld she's Marceline.
I have always been impressed by Brielle.
She managed to keep both identities very separate.
On occasions I've slipped up and let the two mingle a bit.
But of course that's not the only thing about her that impresses me.
I'd never say that Brielle impressed me out loud though. It's not like we have a Capulet and Montague thing going on. Our fathers aren't on good terms, but won't shoot each other on the spot. They don't fight or make big scenes. They prefer to completely ignore each other. And I guess me trying to kill Brielle doesn't help my argument.
From what I gathered Brielle is actually going to kill her father so she can hand it over to mother to take over. But if we time it so she kills him and then I kill her, we can buy out L'Ouverture before her mother can get her perfectly manicured nails on it.
Okay maybe we're more fucked up than the Montagues and Capulets but at least we're not teenaged star-crossed lovers.
I'm pretty sure Brielle outgrew her little girl fantasies of love long ago, and at 24 I'm much too old to kill myself over a pretty girl.
"Now boarding flight 73."
I pull out my headphones and stuff them in my slim jeans. I adjust my brown worn leather bomber jacket and board the plane.
I order myself some rum when approached by the flight attendant and pull out a book.
When we land I immediately see my older brother waiting for me.
"Beau," Matt greets me with a hug, "looking rough."
I hit him and throw my duffle at him to carry.
"Instead of insulting your little brother you should help him and carry his shit."
The beautiful and familiar sound of French fills my ears for a moment before I focus back on my brother.
"Père wants to talk to you about..." he gives me a look.
Instantly I understand, "Where's he?"
"Currently in a meeting. He'll meet you in your room later."
I nod and follow Matt into his car.
I shake off my hair and pull on my clothes. Another day, another hotel room. For business and for BUSINESS the whole family ends up traveling.
But France had always been where Matt wanted to base Charbonneaux once he takes over and the place Mère and Père want to retire to.
"Beau," Père greeted as he let himself into my room.
"Père," I walk over and give him a hug.
He sits down at the table in the mini living room.
"Son, I have some updates for you."
I nod, "Okay,"
"In regards to Brielle. She's in France, but we don't know exactly where. I also need you to take care of someone before her."
I furrow my brows, "Okay..." I take a moment to process things, "Go on."
"Tonight you'll have a dentist appointment."
I couldn't help but pout. I'm currently sitting in a dentist's office with a fourty-something year old man while I watch the glamour gala the Holman's are attending on the flat screen. I waited to see Brielle in a dress worth thousands of dollars. The old man though kept getting shifty eyed and couldn't keep his eyes off the receptionist.
"Jourdain Roux," the receptionist calls. I stand up and smooth out my ripped jeans then pull then pull them up so they don't fall down. I pat the back of my jeans to check that my cigarettes are there and approach the receptionist. She stands up and leads me to the door. I immediately notice how damn nice her legs are and how they seem to go on for days. She's wearing those retro black tear shaped glasses with vibrant bold red lip stick. Her hair is an ink black color. She looks just like a 1950-60s pin up girl. No wonder that sex starved looking man is drooling over her.
Slowly she leads me down the sterilized white hallway. Her red backed black heels made the only noise and her lemon scent wafted to my nose.
An alarm goes off in my head.
"Didn't expect to see you here Marceline," I sneer.
She stops dead in her tracks. She appears to stiffen up before she relaxes.
"Jourdain," she said in a sexy husky tone laden with her thick French accent.
She turns around and crosses get arms over her chest.
I stared at her face. Although she hid it well I could see Brielle's features behind all her tricks.
"Have you taken up dental receptionist as your part time job?" I tease.
"Something like that," She softened up her accent. As a little girl she had a heavy accent but it faded away as we grew up in America.
"I have a job to do and I hope you don't interfere with it Marcie."
"We haven't spoken in years so that's quite a big request you have for me."
I roll my eyes, "Stop being a smart ass and let the big boys do their work."
"Let this big girl do what she needs to do then." she retorts.
"And what is it that you need to do?"
"What do you need to do?"
Neither of us replies and we just grimace at each other knowing the answer to our questions.
"Who is it?" she asks.
Marceline, or Brielle, led me to my chair. I slowly got into it and glanced at the dentist and his current patient.
I bite my thumb and watch as she walks over to them. Damn she's got a nice ass too.
I notice as the patient appreciates her ass too. She whispers something in the dentist's ear and he heads my way.
The dentist says things that I don't really listen to and when I turn around Brielle/Marceline is gone.
I pull out my gun.
A/n: Père means father in French by the way, and Mère is mother. I don't normally write stories like this, but I've been wanting to for a while. Of course this will have regular elements featured in my usual stories.
My plan right now is to update once a week, but with two chapters each update since I'm switching perspectives between Beau and Brielle.