Drama queen

Anne-Marie’s POV

I was trying my best to separate both brothers before Leon dragged me away from the chaos. Isla’s voice had turned shrill, pleading for them to stop, but neither cared. 

“ Come this way, mademoiselle,” he murmured under his breath,

I didn’t fight him. I let him pull me through the crowd, through the wall of clicking shutters and murmuring onlookers. It looked terrifying but I was pleased.

Inside the car, the city lights of Paris streaked so brightly despite the chaos that just happened. I leaned back against the leather seat, heart still racing from the spectacle I had just unleashed. Leon sat opposite me, his broad shoulders stiff beneath his tailored coat, his eyes fixed on me through the rearview mirror.

“ How do you feel?” he asked finally, voice calm but curious.

“How do I feel?” I repeated softly, almost laughing. “Still not satisfied.”

He frowned, just slightly. “You call that not satisfied? You have both of them bleeding in front of half of Paris. Surely that is enough?”

I turned to the window, watching the reflection of my own face in the dark glass. My lipstick had smudged, my hair fallen loose. I looked almost human again almost.

“No, Leon,” I said, my voice low, steady. “That was just the beginning. A piece of the puzzle. Until Louis loses everything he owns, his company, his name, his pride I will not rest.”

There was silence then, save for the hum of the engine and the rain beginning to fall. Leon had been with me long enough to know better than to argue, but tonight he risked it by asking so many questions.

“You could have done all this without Éric,” he said. “He wasn’t part of your brother’s plot. You knew that.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering Éric’s face.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I know.”

“Then why involve him?” Leon pressed, his voice sharper now.

I turned my gaze on him, slow and deliberate. “Because Louis wouldn’t suffer alone,” I said. “Because his family, every last one of them stood by while my father’s name was dragged through the mud. Maybe they didn't do anything, but they watched the whole scandal.And that makes them complicit.”

Leon shook his head. “C’est cruel, Anne-Marie.”

“Cruel?” I smiled faintly. “No, mon cher. Cruel is what they did to my innocent father. This—” I gestured toward the rain-slicked streets, “this is justice.”

We passed the Pont Alexandre III, its gilded statues gleaming in the downpour. Paris looked almost holy at night, as if even the city itself didn’t contribute to my pain.

Leon’s eyes softened, but he said nothing more. He knew there was no changing my mind. I had set this plan in motion long before tonight. 

“Drive faster, Leon,” I said finally. “Tomorrow, the real game begins. Louis should just watch and see.”

He obeyed without a word. And as the rain fell harder against the windows, I allowed myself one small, dangerous smile.

By the time the car stopped in front of my townhouse in the 7ᵉ arrondissement, the rain had slowed to a fine mist. Leon stepped out first, always the gentleman, and opened my door.

“Merci,” I murmured, gathering the folds of my coat and stepping into the night. The air was sharp, laced with the faint scent of jasmine from the garden

Inside, the house was dark except for the soft golden glow from the hallway lamps. Everything was as I had left it although I wasn't expecting anything else. My heels clicked softly against the marble floor as I moved toward the stairs.

“You can go home, Leon,” I said over my shoulder, unbuttoning my coat. “It’s late. You’ve done enough for tonight.”

He hesitated by the door, his silhouette tall and unmoving. “Non,” he said simply. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

I turned to look at him. His expression was calm, but the worry in his eyes betrayed him. Always so stoic, my loyal Leon Who had been with me all through these 5 terrible years. Sometimes he was heartless, sometimes he let his heart decide for him; it was one of such moments.

I tried to smile. “You don’t need to babysit me. I’m not a child. You should think about yourself.”

“Your father made me swear,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “He said, ‘Protect my only child, Leon. Whatever it costs.’

I looked away quickly, almost smiling and swallowing the ache rising in my throat. “That was a long time ago,” I said.

“Promises don’t expire, Anne-Marie,” Leon replied. “Not the ones that matter.”

His words lingered in the air like smoke. I sighed, brushing a strand of damp hair from my face. “You really are a good bodyguard, Leon.”

He gave a small shrug. “Toujours. Always.”

I walked over to the window, parting the heavy velvet curtains. The Eiffel Tower glittered faintly in the distance, a thousand lights blinking making it look colorful.

“I can’t stop now,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “Every move I make brings me closer. He’ll lose everything… just as he made us lose.”

“I know,” Leon said softly behind me. “But revenge is a poison, ma chère. Be careful it doesn’t taste too sweet.”

I turned toward him, my reflection pale in the glass. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ve already swallowed worse.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled one of the old wool blankets from the armchair and draped it over my shoulders. It had been my favourite since my father fell sick. It usually reminded me of him.

“Sleep, Anne-Marie,” he murmured. “Tomorrow will be another long day.”

I nodded, closing my eyes briefly. “Bonne nuit, Leon.”

“Bonne nuit, mademoiselle.”

He was about to leave when I called him back, “Hold on, Leon.”

He stopped abruptly, 

“Please check if there are any updates about tonight.”

He smiled at me as he fished out his phone from his pants, while he scrolled through, his smile disappeared slowly making me worry.

“

Is something wrong, Leon?”

“Mademoiselle, there's a big problem.” He whispered softly.