Better In Your Arms (Parisian Mafia 2#)

7

Chapter 7: The Calm Before the Storm

The air inside the estate felt thick with tension, an unspoken dread settling over everyone. Amari wandered through the halls, her mind replaying Alexander’s warning over and over again—*“They’re planning an attack on the estate.”*

Two days. That’s all they had before the Montemayors came crashing down on them, and she had no idea what would happen. She hadn’t seen Lawrence all morning. He was constantly in meetings, preparing for what was to come. The weight of it all was heavy on her shoulders, and despite Lawrence’s reassurances, she couldn’t shake the fear clawing at her insides.

In the quiet of the estate, Amari found herself drawn to the garden at the back of the house. It was the only place that felt remotely peaceful, away from the security guards and their constant patrols. She sat on one of the stone benches, her eyes closing as she took in the cool breeze. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence, and Amari opened her eyes to see Lawrence approaching her. His usually calm demeanor was tense, his jaw set with determination. Yet, when his eyes met hers, there was a softness there—an apology, perhaps, for the chaos that had become her life.

"Mind if I join you?" Lawrence asked, his voice low.

Amari shook her head, making room for him on the bench. "You look like you haven’t slept."

"I haven’t," he admitted, sitting down beside her. "There’s a lot to do before… before they come."

Amari bit her lip, trying to find the right words. "Do you think we’ll be okay?"

Lawrence didn’t answer right away. His gaze shifted to the garden, his brow furrowing in thought. "I’m doing everything I can to make sure we are. But nothing is guaranteed in this world, Amari. You know that now."

His words hung heavy between them, the brutal truth they both had to face. Amari turned to look at him, the fear and uncertainty bubbling up inside her. "I hate this," she whispered. "I hate that we have to live like this."

"I know," Lawrence said softly. He reached out, taking her hand in his. "But I promise you, I’ll fight with everything I have to keep you safe."

Amari squeezed his hand, finding a small comfort in the warmth of his touch. Despite the danger, despite the uncertainty, Lawrence had always made her feel safe. But how much longer could they hold on to that?

"I don’t want you to get hurt," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lawrence turned to her, his gaze intense. "I won’t," he said, his voice firm. "I’ve been in this game a long time. I know how to protect myself."

"But this isn’t just about you anymore," Amari whispered. "You’re not alone in this."

Lawrence looked at her for a long moment, and for the first time, Amari saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He had always been so strong, so composed, but even he couldn’t hide the weight of the responsibility that came with protecting her.

"I know," he said quietly. "That’s why I have to win this. For both of us."

---

As the sun began to set, Lawrence gathered his men in the main living room. Amari watched from the sidelines as he spoke with authority, laying out the final details of their defense strategy. Alexander stood beside him, his expression just as serious.

"Tonight, we double the patrols around the perimeter," Lawrence ordered, his voice calm but firm. "No one gets in or out without clearance. The Montemayors are coming, and we can’t afford any mistakes."

The men nodded in agreement, their faces set with determination. They knew what was at stake.

Amari couldn’t help but feel out of place in the room. She wasn’t a fighter, not like Lawrence or the others. But she was part of this now, whether she liked it or not. The only thing she could do was trust Lawrence and his men to protect her.

After the meeting, Lawrence approached her, his expression softer than it had been all day. "You should get some rest."

Amari shook her head. "I can’t sleep. Not knowing what’s coming."

"I know," Lawrence said, his hand brushing against her cheek. "But you need to stay strong, Amari. For yourself. For me."

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. His presence was the only thing keeping her grounded right now, the only thing that made her believe they might get through this.

"Come on," Lawrence said gently, taking her hand. "Let’s go somewhere quieter."

---

Lawrence led Amari to one of the smaller, more private rooms in the estate. It was a cozy space with a fireplace, the flickering flames casting a warm glow over the room. He guided her to the couch, sitting down beside her.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The tension of the past few days hung in the air, a constant reminder of the storm that was about to hit them.

"I never wanted you to be involved in this," Lawrence finally said, his voice low. "But I can’t imagine my life without you now."

Amari looked at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached out, placing her hand over his. "I don’t regret being here with you, Lawrence. I’m scared, yes, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

Lawrence’s eyes softened, and for the first time in days, he smiled—a small, sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You deserve better than this. Better than me."

"Don’t say that," Amari whispered, her voice fierce. "You’re not the monster you think you are. I see you, Lawrence. The real you."

He shook his head, his expression pained. "I’ve done things, Amari. Things I’m not proud of. Things that will never go away."

"We all have our demons," she said quietly. "But that doesn’t define who you are."

Lawrence looked at her, his eyes searching her face as if trying to find some truth in her words. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. "I don’t deserve you."

"You do," Amari whispered, her voice steady. "You deserve happiness, Lawrence. And I want to be the one to give that to you."

For a moment, the weight of their reality seemed to lift, and it was just the two of them—two people fighting for a love that felt impossible in the midst of chaos.

But the moment didn’t last long.

A loud crash echoed through the estate, followed by shouting and the sound of gunfire.

Lawrence pulled back immediately, his body tensing as his hand went to the gun at his side. "Stay here," he ordered, his voice deadly calm. "Don’t move until I come back for you."

Before Amari could protest, he was already out the door, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Her heart raced as the sound of gunfire grew louder, closer. She knew she should stay hidden, but the fear gnawed at her, the uncertainty of what was happening outside the door driving her to the edge.

She couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

Grabbing the nearest object for protection—a heavy vase from the table—Amari slipped out of the room, determined to find Lawrence and face whatever danger was coming their way.

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