Chapter 267
Hudson's POV
I tore down the main streets of Rue de Rivoli, swerving past traffic lights and heading for the upscale district, breaking at least half a dozen traffic laws.
My car screeched to a stop in front of the Hôtel Plaza Athénée. I jumped out, tossed the keys to the valet, and rushed past the smiling concierge who tried to greet me.
Lea's screams still echoed in my ears.
She had sounded terrified on the phone. There wasn't time to think—only act.
The elevator moved upward with agonizing slowness.
"Someone better be dying for us to leave Christina like this," Lycaon growled inside my head.
"She'll be fine. She's still mad about the prenup anyway," I responded silently.
When the doors finally opened, I stepped into a softly lit hallway, carpeted and decorated to tasteful perfection.
But no amount of ambient music or high-end fragrance could mask the drunken yelling or the stench of stale alcohol.
Pierre Marchand was pounding his fists against the door of room 602, knuckles bleeding

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