Ace Killian

chapter 15: exhausted

Naomi's P.O.V

After last night, Ace had been ...different. softer. He promised me more freedom, allowing me to go outside again.

today he'd even taken me to his office to "show me how the business works". i was hoping to get to know him better but instead, I found myself in the break room drinking coffee with his secretary.

"You must be really lucky" she said taking a tiny sip and watching me like i was entertainment

"Excuse me" I said refocusing, trying to keep a polite smile.

" Lucky to end up with Mr. Killian" she went on, the words sliding out like a catty whisper.

"Oh no we aren't...I wouldn't say lucky..." I said fumbling on my words

"Oh, it's a money-for-pleasures kind of arrangement" 

"Makes sense, Mr. Killian doesn't seem like the type to go for someone like you" she said giving a small mocking laugh.

Did she just? the nerve. 

I let a cold laugh slip out before i answered.

"For your information, we are in love." my voice was flat, teeth bared under my smile.

 "And if you must know, he calls my name every time when he's satisfied. tell me, does your man do that, or does he just roll over and sleep?" 

her jaw dropped.

Good.

I left before she could recover, heading to Ace's office.

I couldn't stand to be around people without a brain

When I reached his office, I pushed open the door and paused. Ace was in the middle of a conversation, two men around him speaking fast in another language. they were lean, dangerous silhouettes in a room that smelled faintly of whisky

"Découvrez pour qui il travaille, puis tuez-le. Je ne peux pas avoir le fils de pute qui me vole et s'en tire."

(Find out who he works for, then kill him. I can't have the son of a bitch stealing from me and getting away with it.) 

He said drink whisky out of a glass.

my stomach dropped. i didn't understand a word, but i understood the tone - the cruelty.

"Umm boss" jake murmured, letting my presence be known.

ace turned. For a dizzy second his face was an impassive wall; then his expression softened when he saw me.

from the desk he was leaning he walked over to me

"Naomi ...how much of that did you hear " he asked careful

"I..." my mouth went dry. i gripped my coffee cup so hard it warmed my palms.

He grabs the sides of my arms rubbing them to try and comfort me as he looks at me questioningly. Why do I get like this with this man. i can never form a proper sentence.

"I didn't understand any of it "

"Good" he said as if it was an order. He turned to his men.

I then released a deep breath I suddenly realized I was holding as he turned to his men.

"Laisse nous" 

the men filed out without another word

once it was just us, he let out a long breath and sank into his chair like the weight of the world had finally pressed on him.

"Did you pick out a dress for the event" he asked, trying to switch tracks

"Yeah" I answered looking around his office, a bit of fear still in my chest.

it felt like something out of a movie - heavy dark wood, leather, books lining one wall, gold details, afternoon sun pouring through the floor-to-ceiling-windows and the kind of power that made a person feel both intimidated and oddly safe.

"What language was that" i asked curious, voice still small.

"French" he said, absently riffling through papers. " I'm from Paris. a lot of us speak French"

"You speak French" I felt a flash of Suprise and something like admiration 

he shrugged and made a sound like a laugh. "Yes. it's useful" then his body slumped a little more.

" When was the last time you slept" I asked concerned as I walked over to his seat and put my coffee down

"Don't worry about me aimer." he dragged a hand down his face. 

the tired in him was obvious, the dark circles, the loosened tie, his sleeves rolled up at his elbows and his hair a mess. He masked it with bravado, but he couldn't hide it from me. I'm perfectly fine" he says dragging his hand down his face in frustration.

i stepped around his desk and spun his chair so he'd face me. he blinked, puzzled. i let me hand rest on his cheek, feeling the rasp of a day he'd never tell anyone about.

"Come here" I whispered

he hesitated, then followed me to the couch. I patted my lap and despite his protest - "I'm not some fucking dog Naomi" - he eased down and let his head fall into my lap. the motion made something in me ache and soften at the same time.

I ran my fingers through his hair and hummed the lullaby my mother used to sing. his breathing slowed; the harsh lines in his face relaxed. for a few fragile minutes, the office wasn't a place of deals and threats. it was just him and me - two broken people finding a silver peace.

 leaned back on the couch, listening to the rhythm of his breathing and feeling faint weight of his hand on my thigh getting ready to join him in slumber.

...

When i woke, night had fallen. 

Ace helped me into the car and drove us home, quiet and careful.