Page 122 of Crown of Thorns
Perhaps coming here will make the deathblow easy for Jean-Luc. He can simply fire me, right on the spot. But I can’t put myself to care. Not when I’m fighting against losing my love. My heart.
Melo lets out a heavy sigh. Her hand gives mine a firmer squeeze. "You know, I'm proud of you. For coming back. For openly loving who you love. I still can't believe that's what Dad sent you away for." Her voice shakes now. "I always wondered.And now that I know... he destroyed our lives. Tore you out of mine. And for what?"
She exhales shakily. "I was seven when you were taken from me. And I’ve missed you ever since. I never understood why you left. Mom and Dad told me you didn’t want to live with us anymore. For years, I thought it was my fault. That if I’d been better, or happier, thatyou would’ve stayed."
Her fingers tighten briefly. "Then the rumors started. They said you and Dad didn’t get along. That you were a rebel. The local news ran some interview that made you sound like someone I didn’t even recognize. Then came the stories. How you wanted to be a pop star, or an actor, or a footballer. None of it ever felt real. Just noise around your absence."
“Ugh.”
She snorts. Her hand touches mine. “Exactly. But then, the stories faded away. People moved on with their lives, other news made the headline, and you were still gone. And then you came back. All those years later. I didn’t expect you to come back for their funeral. But I’m so fucking grateful.” She blinks fast, eyes shining. “So whatever it is you think you broke, we’ll fix it. Louis still loves you. That much is obvious.”
Releasing my hand, she puts the car in first gear and leaves the curb.
I huff out a laugh, but my chest trembles with nerves. I really hope she’s right. “It’s possible the family won’t let us in, you know?”
Melo looks offended. “After that painting I made Louis for his birthday? No way they’re turning us away. Let’s go make this right.” I nod, heart thudding. Whatever’s waiting behind that gate, I’m ready to face it.
She’s right. I can’t keep hiding. I didn’t come this far to walk away again.
Driving up to the guarded fence, Melo rolls down her window, showering the stoic guard with her flashing smile. “Hey there. We’ve come to see Louis.”
“The birthday party isn’t until tomorrow.”
I clear my throat and lean toward him. “I am Professeur Noah Montague. Jean-Luc Deveraux invited me to the property.”
The guard barks something through an intercom, and my chest tightens while we wait.
Finally, the fence opens. “You can park in the available spots on your right.”
The inner square looks impressive, with ceramic tiles and palm trees. A butler’s waiting for us at the entrance of one of the three mansions.
“Holy shit. Look around, Nooms. This place is insane.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
Squaring my shoulders, we follow the butler inside. Music plays in the living room, the ceiling-to-floor windows open to a breathtaking view of a garden with a swimming pool and the Atlantic Ocean behind it.
Jean-Luc stands by one of the couches. Tall and dark, stern and dangerous, he looks impeccable in a pair of fashionable shorts and a t-shirt. Sunglasses sit in his black mane. He’s barefoot. His gaze slides from Melody who’s dragging Louis’s birthday gift inside with help from the butler, to me.
High heels clack against the polished wooden flooring and in walks Natalie, a bright smile on her face.
“Professor Montague. What a surprise.”
“A surprise it is, indeed,” Jean-Luc deadpans.
Natalie rolls her eyes. “Amour. Behave.”
He grunts, then gestures for his office. I start to follow—but before stepping fully into the room, I turn around.
Melody is standing near the entrance, watching. When our eyes meet, she gives me a small, firm nod and lifts her thumb.
I breathe once, deeply, then follow them inside.
The office is minimalist, sharp lines and heavy glass, everything in neutral tones—clean, controlled, expensive. A single painting hangs behind the desk, stark and abstract. Jean-Luc stands like he owns every molecule in the room.
“Tell me why you're here."
I meet his eyes. “For Louis. To ask for his forgiveness.”
