Discretion (The Dumonts, #1)(74)

“Good girl,” he says. “You’re learning. You’re listening. This is good. Hey, let me show you something.” He takes his hand away from my mouth, and I gulp for air. He brings his phone right up to my eyes and presses “Play.” “Do you recognize this?”

It’s a video. The footage is grainy at first; then it focuses in.

It’s of a hotel.

A hotel room at the Rouge Royale.

It’s of a window. I’m naked and pressed up against the glass. Olivier is screwing me against it. The camera zooms in closer and closer, and though I’m facing away for most of it, occasionally my head turns to the side, either in ecstasy or to look down at the world below, and you can clearly see that it’s me.

My cheeks immediately go red, and I close my eyes from the shame.

I knew that it was a mistake to be so brazen. To fuck where anyone could see us. It was part of the thrill. I was so taken with the meeting in the hotel, with everything.

And Pascal saw the whole thing.

He filmed the whole thing from the building across the street, maybe that dark room with the half-closed shutters.

He puts his phone away. “At first I thought you were an incredible performer,” Pascal murmurs into my ear, his breath hot. “I thought that there was no way my cousin could be that good. But I guess it’s the truth. Though you know, if I had my way with you, Olivier would barely be a memory.”

“Dream on,” I manage to say, glaring at him.

“I don’t have to dream,” he says with a smile. “I have this. Do you know how many times I’ve come watching this? How many times I’ve imagined it was me with my cock inside you, making you writhe against the glass? I’m getting turned on just talking about it again, being able to feel you like this, to smell you when you’re hot and desperate. Do I make you desperate right now?”

I look away from the lewd excitement in his eyes, refusing to answer him, knowing no matter what I say, he’ll find some fucking way to twist it around to suit him.

“Bashful suddenly? I see. Well, I suppose it’s always a shock to see yourself in such an intimate moment. It will be a bigger shock when the world sees it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap at him.

He grins. He looks like a fucking maniac. “I have your attention. Very good. Well, see, this is just one of the things that will happen if you stay with Olivier. I’ll share this with the press. It will be everywhere. Sure, it’s nothing more than a scandal, and I don’t think it will hurt Olivier in any way. But it’s got to be embarrassing for you. To have everyone back at home see you like this. Your mother . . .”

“Don’t you fucking mention her.”

He shrugs. “I have to. It’s part of the plan.”

“Your fucking plan to break us up, to keep Olivier from any happiness, isn’t that it? That’s what you want?”

He tilts his head, frowning as he studies me. “You make it sound like I hate my cousin.”

“You do. And he fucking hates you.”

“Oh, I am very aware of that.”

“That’s why he fucked your wife,” I spit out, expecting Pascal to look shocked or insulted or something.

But that crooked, twitching smile returns, and his eyes are practically dancing with joy. “That’s not why he fucked my wife,” Pascal says. “He fucked my wife because it bothered him how little his own family thought of him. How little I cared for him. He fucked my wife because she was beautiful, and she said she wanted him, and he fell for it.”

I frown. “Fell for it?”

“Why, yes. Fell for it. Marine was ambitious but stupid, a terrible combination. A lot like my mother, actually. That’s probably why I first asked her to marry me—you know how messed up all these relationships can be. Anyway, when you’re stupid but ambitious, you’ll do anything and never think of the consequences. Marine never wanted to be with me—she just wanted my money. It happens to all of us. I’m sure with my mother it was the same. It was certainly the same for Seraphine’s ex-husband. You can never really be sure of someone’s intentions. When you’re a Dumont, everyone wants a piece of you, even if it means cutting themselves in the process.”

He runs a finger down the side of my cheek, slowly pressing harder and harder. “Marine was an easy target, and she was disposable. I told her the plan. She would seduce Olivier, have an affair with him, lead him on, and let him believe that she loved him. Then we’d wait for them to be discovered.”

Oh. My. God.

“After that, the deal was done. Olivier lost everything. My father and I gained everything—we would just have to bide our time. It came a lot sooner than I thought, to be honest with you.”

“Marine . . . you made your wife seduce Olivier? You set him up!”

“We set him up. It was my father’s idea, naturally. He always has the good ideas. I was rather young at the time, I hadn’t evolved into it yet. Don’t worry about Marine, though, she got what was coming to her. As soon as it was over, I divorced her, and she didn’t get a single penny from me. You see, she was cheating on me with my cousin, and there was that infidelity clause in our prenup.”

Just when I didn’t think this guy could get any more evil . . .

“Oh, I disgust you,” he says to me, amused. “I’m all right with that. It’s better to get a reaction than no reaction. It’s like art, you see.”