Rose (The Billionairess, #1.5)

Chapter 3: Damoiseau in Distress

Even after returning to see the young man--Thomas Luxembourg--I still could not get him out of my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about his shy demeanor, his polite and kind words. He was so different from the men I was used to being around. He was just so impossibly sweet...

And so attentive my mind whispered. So obedient...

I shook the thought from my head. I needed a distracton. Luckily, Montgomery's was a short walk from one of my favorite shoe shops. I walked until I came to the swirling pink neon sign that read: STROKE OF MIDNIGHT. Next to the text was a glowing blue shoe resembling that of Cinderella's glass slipper. It was the only shop I knew that was open this late.

The bells rang as I walked inside.

"Why hello, Miss Delacourt!"

The shop's owner, Stephanie, bounced up to me. She was an energetic, petite thing, and always knew how to treat her customers right.

I gave her a smile.

"Hello, Stephanie. I'm feeling indulgent tonight. Have anything new?"

"Absolutely!" she said. She guided me to a long shelf of shoes on the back wall. "What're you looking for? Something for work, or something more casual?"

I gazed down the line of shoes, all of them in different colors and sizes, until I landed on a gorgeous pair of sexy, red high heels. I pointed at them.

"Those," she said. "I'll have those."

"Ooo, nice choice!" Stephanie said.

And so Stephanie found me a pair of the red heels in my exact measures, which she kept on file like all her clients. For a while I forgot about Thomas and Tristen and work and everything else that had made a nest in my mind. And so sometime after midnight I walked out of Stroke of Midnight with a new pair of shoes on my shopping bag.

I strolled down the sidewalk and began calling up my driver on my phone to come pick me up. While the city at night could be dangerous, it did feel nice to be under the cover of darkness where no one could recognize me. Rose Delacourt, billionairess extraordinaire.

Then around the corner, I heard a voice. A hostile voice. And then another one, much more familiar.

"I was talking to you," the voice spat. It was gruff and angry. Every instinct told me to flyer away before this dangerous stranger discovered me eavesdropping. But then the sound of the other voice made me stop.

"I don't want any trouble," the other voice quivered.

I could believe it at first, but it had to be him. I was not a superstitious woman. I did not believe in fate or destiny. But in that moment I became certain that the universe had conspired to once again put me in the path of Thomas Luxembourg.

"Give me whatever's in your pocket," the assailant ordered.

I peeked around the corner, and there he was. My sweet knight in shining armor was now in danger himself. A rough-looking gentleman in a hoodie was threatening him on the sidewalk.

"Well, did ya hear me?" the assailant said. "Get out your wallet!"

At that moment, he sent a fist striking across Thomas's face. The busboy stumbled and spat out a sport of blood. Before he could even steady himself, the assailant sent another fist across the other side of his face.

The sight sent a white hot anger running through me. I imagined it was the same protective instinct that overtook tigresses when a predator encroached on one of their cubs. No one dared to lay a hand on this boy.

"Okay, okay" Thomas whimpered the reached for his pocket.

Oh no, my dear. You will not give this brute a single cent.

When you're a woman living in and walking the city alone, you learn many ways to defend yourself against the male urchins that lurk the streets. Luckily, a lady has many unlikely weapons of self-defense on her hand.

I approached the assailant from behind. I kept one hand around one of the shoes on my bag.

"Now that is no way to approach anyone, young man," I said to the assailant.

Thomas saw me before he did. His eyes widened with disbelief and confusion. The man turned around and eyed me up and down. Clearly he was not expecting someone like me.

"Yeah?" he said. A grin smeared across his face and his eyes took on a licentious look. "And what are you going to do about it, sweetheart?"

I sneered. Men like this disgusted me. In a quick flash, I whipped out the shoe and sent the pointed heel stabbing across his face. I hit him right where I needed to, and he stumbled down. His skull hit the pavement, leaving him groaning on the ground.

Right where you belong I thought.

"Honestly, people have no class anymore" I said with a sigh. And now my brand new shoes were dripping with this pathetic man's blood. But at least Thomas was safe.

I dropped the shoe back in the bag then look up at Thomas. He seemed dizzy from the two blows to his face, his cheeks dabbled with blood. The poor boy looked so scare and confused, like an abused kitten left on a street corner. I wanted to gather him up in my arms and take him home to protect him.

I gently took his face in my hands, examining the wounds on his face. He was swaying a little and I had to hold him in place to keep him standing still.

"Are you okay, Mr. Luxembourg?" I asked.

His lips parted to respond, but no words came out. His eyelids were fluttering and his eyes were glazed up and fuzzy.

Then, his whole weight toppled and fell to the ground at my feet.