Chapter 45 - The City of Shadows
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Paris was drowned in a thick, romantic fog when our private jet touched down at Le Bourget airport. But to me, the City of Lights felt more like a city of shadows, perfectly suited for the bloody business we were about to conduct.
Jax had worked his digital magic on the flight over, bypassing local firewalls to track Luc Fontaine's burner phones.
"He's operating out of a private VIP room beneath a high-end nightclub near the Louvre," Jax’s voice echoed through my discreet earpiece as Elias and I walked through the terminal. "Security is incredibly heavy, Boss. Biometrics, armed guards, the whole nine yards. You can't just knock on the front door."
"I never knock," I murmured, adjusting the collar of my black trench coat.
We rented a sleek, armored black Mercedes and drove into the heart of the city. The rain in Paris was colder than back home, stinging my cheeks as we approached the alleyway behind the pulsing nightclub.
Two massive bouncers in cheap suits stood guarding the steel service door, looking incredibly bored until they spotted us.
"Private event. VIP list only," the larger bouncer grunted in heavy French, stepping forward to block our path.
Elias didn't say a single word. He simply grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him against the wet brick wall with bone-shattering force. The second bouncer reached for his weapon, but I was vastly faster. I drove the heel of my designer boot into his kneecap, snapping it backward, and struck him across the temple with the heavy butt of my pistol.
Both men crumpled to the damp asphalt in agonizing silence.
"Subtle as always," Elias muttered, dragging the unconscious bodies into the shadows behind a dumpster.
"We don't have time for diplomacy, Elias," I replied, stepping over a puddle and swiping a heavily encrypted keycard from the fallen guard's breast pocket.
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We slipped through the heavy steel door and descended a narrow, neon-lit staircase. The heavy thumping of electronic bass masked the sound of our footsteps, vibrating through my chest. At the bottom of the stairs, I swiped the keycard. The light turned green.
I kicked open the door to the VIP suite, my pistol raised and ready. Luc Fontaine was about to have a very bad night.
