Page 11 of The Chameleon

The lifeless body slumped forward, landing perfectly on the laid-out covering. Blood began to pour from the tiny black bullet hole, collecting nicely on the plastic below.

Joris was a smart man.

Ares liked Joris.

Turning back to the men who brought him his traitor, Ares began removing the silencer from his gun. Behind him, several workers started rolling up the plastic and moving back boxes.

“I take it you will dispose of this piece of shit?” Ares asked, looking at Joris. The man nodded. “What do I owe you for clean up?”

Joris shook his head. “Don’t be stupid. We’re friends. It’s all taken care of.”

This was why Ares loved working with guys like Joris. They knew the meaning of true friendship and loyalty.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

The two of them walked out to the parking lot, bracing themselves against the frigid cold.

“Feel like coming by the bar? We can have a drink and get caught up,” Joris offered.

Ares had been planning on heading right back home to Paris but decided that it was important to spend time with friends. He didn’t have many, so he needed to be nice to the few that he had.

“Sure thing. That would be nice.”

Joris nodded, then headed off to his car.

Ares glanced over his shoulder at the building that was crumbling before their eyes.

He really hated this piece of shit city.

3

MATTEO

The music played softly in the background as Matteo lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip of his brandy. He let the drink roll over his tongue, enjoying its sweet taste before swallowing it down with only the slightest of burns.

Tonight was a night for reflection. Matteo had come to this hotel bar in search of peace and quiet. A little calm to settle his soul. With the soft lighting and the gentle music, he couldn’t think of a calmer place to sit back, enjoy a drink, and just be himself.

There were no cameras rolling. No people to impress. No expectations to deliver upon. There was just him. His drink. And his thoughts.

Sometimes, he felt like his whole life had been one extravagant performance. From growing up in one of the richest families in Europe to keeping secret the true source of his family’s wealth and power. Secrets upon secrets upon secrets.

However, there had been one person who he had been able to be himself around. One person who knew the ugly truth, yet still decided that they loved him. That, like all of the fantasies hesold, had ended up being a lie as well. A fabrication. A story told to convince a naive young man that he was worth loving.

Matteo took another sip of his brandy.

Never again.

He learned a tough lesson the hard way.

Now, his heart and his head were no longer speaking to one another. Both still whispered into the ear of his cock from time to time, but both head and heart refused to acknowledge the other's existence.

He took another sip.

Staring into his glass, Matteo thought about all that he had accomplished. From his work at the château to everything he had built withLa Maison de M.But the one thing he was most proud of was the family he had created.

While Matteo employed many people atLa Maison, there were a handful of guys whom he had really bonded with. These guys happened to be those whom he had saved or helped through difficult times. It’s incredible the bond you develop when helping someone through a very difficult situation or traumatic time in their life.

The love and compassion that is shown is never forgotten.

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