twenty ◌ bienvenue à paris

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The Shangri-La of Paris was exquisite to say the least. After an almost 22-hour flight with two layovers, and a thirty minute drive from the airport, we finally arrived to our home away from home. The luxurious hotel however, meant more to me than just another place to lay my head. This hotel in particular, skyrocketed my father's business.

"Ain't this place fancy or what?" Niall grinned happily, opening the hotel room door. He pulled the barricade wide and stepped aside for me to walk through.

When the Shangri-La decided to redesign the lobby, they decided to take a chance on my dad. They trusted the company of a man who didn't have many clients, but the ones he did have, were extremely loyal and vouched for my father's ethic. Fast forward several years later, and the furnished hotel lobby where hundreds strolled through each week, contained beautiful pieces from my dad's company.

"I wish you could've been in the taxi with me," I frowned. "My French speaking skills suck. The most I can say is omelette du fromage and je m'appelle Tasha."

"Maybe you should've listened to your dad and took French class," Niall brought up with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Well maybe if he told me that it was of upmost importance that I learned French just in case the family is ever attacked by a gang of rouge shitheads, then I would've gladly taken his advice," I huffed.

I walked further into the hotel room, only to be further blown away by the radical lavishness of the space. It was an expansive room with stunning Parisian design. With two massive beds, a large couch, a heavy-duty desk, and a balcony with the most awe-inspiring view of the Eiffel Tower, I was once again put into a situation of perspective. A part of me was thankful for this opportunity to relish in such a posh environment, but the other part however, absolutely hated the reason why I was here.

"How tired are all of you?" Liam asked. He walked into the room through a set of double doors leading to the balcony. "I think we should go out and scope the area. Pinnacle Crédit is only a few blocks away from here."

"I'm game," Niall gave a two thumbs up. "Besides, I'm hungry. I could go for some food."

"Same," I agreed. "I'm more hungry than I am tired."

"Harry?" Liam gazed at the curly-headed boy with interest.

Harry sat on the bed with his feet propped up on the nearby chair, and his eyes fixated on his phone. He didn't seem to hear Liam, nor the current conversation, because instead of responding, Harry kept a perpetual scowl upon the cellular screen.

"Hey," Niall hurled a pillow straight for Harry, which hit him perfectly in the head.

"What the fuck?" Harry bellowed with annoyance. He glared at Niall, who only threw his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, but are you down to come scope out the area with us?" Niall reiterated the question.

Harry let out an exhale, "yea, sorry. I'm down. Let me just grab a jacket."

Stuffing the phone into his back pocket, Harry slid off of the bed and sauntered straight for his luggage resting on the armchair. As he rummaged through his belongings, I did the same. I felt the chilly breeze from the open balcony doors, and grabbed a hooded, bomber jacket from my own stockpile of clothes. Throwing on the garment and slipping my wallet into the inner pocket, I was ready to head out.

Pinnacle Crédit was only a seven minute walk from our hotel. Clusters of tourists and locals all bombarded the area, snapping photos and documenting the experience via social media. I didn't blame them though, because on the other side of La Seine, a river within the Paris Basin, was the ever enchanting and iconic Eiffel Tower. The divine piece of architecture stood with pride, and I was at an awe.

"Tasha, are you crying?" Niall's playful voice filled my left ear.

"No," I snorted. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're staring at the Eiffel Tower like it kicked you in the balls then kissed your forehead afterwards," Niall observed with a snicker.

"First of all, if someone kicked my balls, I'd be looking at them with anger," I cleared up.

"See, I knew you had balls," Harry teased, a chuckle filtering through my coms. "Thought there was something odd dangling in your pants."

"Yea, because they're yours," I retorted with a snap, igniting a rambunctious chuckle from both Liam and Niall. "Clearly you have no clue on how to use them so..."

"Je vais te botter le cul dans la Seine," Harry spoke French with such eloquence, I became quite impressed. However, English speaking Harry was the same as a French speaking one, therefore whatever he said, was probably something rude.

(translation: I'm going to kick your ass into the Seine River)

"I have no idea what the hell you just said," I began, my ego dropping a notch. "But I'm going to let it slide for the mere fact that I like to slap you with a little of my own native tongue sometimes."

"Speaking of slapping," Liam chimed in. "We might as well slap ourselves for the shit we're about to get into."

"Why do you say that?" Niall asked.

"I'm looking at the bank right now, and holy shit," Liam expressed with an exasperated sigh.

As much as it pained me to separate my eyes from the global icon that is the Eiffel Tower, I knew my attention was needed elsewhere. I walked several paces towards Pinnacle Crédit, and upon seeing the gargantuan edifice, I knew exactly why Liam freaked.

"We're fucked," Niall commented.

"This is a suicide mission," Harry spoke. I saw him with Liam taking selfies in their matching denim jackets, adding emphasis to the illusion that the two boys were just random tourists. "This place is a heavily guarded bank."

"Not to mention the tech looks wicked crazy to break into," Niall added. "We'd have a better chance of breaking into Hogwarts with toy wands."

I stepped closer to the cream-colored building with simple geometric shapes. It stood three stories high, with grandeur columns embellishing the main entrance. Pinnacle Crédit was a neoclassical dream, and I was low key in love with it.

"Tasha, quit checking out the building like it's Niall's ass," Harry ridiculed. I snapped my attention over to the boy, who stood a few feet away from me with a conceited smirk.

"Bastos ka," I insulted with great irritation coating my voice.

(translation: you're rude)

Crossing my arms above my chest in a huff, I continued to examine the bank. I mentally cursed at myself for being an idiotic creature for having the balls to even think about breaking into a bank like this. But as I contemplated my stupidity, I was accidentally shoved by two little girls chasing after each other. Their sweet mother apologized with a smile while the girls' giggles wafted into the breeze. Suddenly, I was reminded of why I was insane enough to fulfill this insane task.

"Wait, guys, we don't need to break in," my eyes were wide with all the possibilities, as they latched onto the poster plastered on the bank's window.

"Then how do you suggest we do this mission?" Harry questioned. "Waltz right in?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting," I declared, before quickly adding, "at least that what I think we should do? Fermé means closed, right? And Vendredi means Friday."

A moment later, Harry was next to me. He gazed down at the blue, glossy poster taped on the inside of the glass, next to a plaque displaying the hours of operation.

"I'll admit Tasha, this is a good idea," Harry complimented and I smiled with satisfaction. "The bank is closed on Friday guys. There's some private gala happening that night to celebrate the bank's new president."

"So you're insinuating that we get ourselves invited to this fancy shindig," Niall guessed.

"Yea, we either get invited or disguise ourselves as servers or something," I suggested. "The gala is Friday night which gives us two days to prepare."

"Alright, cool. So, with all that said, can we go get food?" Niall asked, a sense of urgency to his tone.

"You guys go ahead," Harry decided. My eyes subtly flickered over to him, and he intently gazed at his cellphone. "I'm gonna explore a bit by myself."

"Okay, Tasha, you coming?" Liam questioned. "There's a cafe with vegan options around the corner."

"Message me the name and I'll meet you guys there in ten minutes. I wanna admire the Eiffel Tower for a bit," I convincingly told the boys.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Niall asked, I saw him approaching me. "Your French sucks, what if you get lost?"

"Wow, your confidence in me is real debilitating to my ego," I sassed with a chuckle. "I promise I'll be okay. I just need time to be alone."

Niall nodded his head and turned on his heel, walking away from me. He returned to where Liam stood, and the two of them strolled away. I however, darted my eyes in search for Harry. I was so damn short that it was difficult to see past the throngs of people who invaded the touristy area. But Harry had a distinct look about him, and his head of brown curly locks were distinguishable within the masses.

Quickly, I turned off my coms to keep from compromising this rogue mission, and shadowed Harry. While I kept several yards in between us, to avoid him noticing me, it soon became a factor that allocated the time for Harry to evade my trail.

"Shit," I cursed to myself, bouncing on my toes in search for the curly-headed boy.

Being short was becoming a real clusterfuck.

I needed a better vantage point if I wanted any chance of finding Harry, so I looked for one. Luckily for me, I stood in front of the Le Coq restaurant, which had a red awning with easy access. Not so lucky for the French staff, who gawked at me angrily as they yelled a bunch of fury-filled words. I couldn't quite understand them, but I deduced that they insisted I get down from their patio overhang.

"Uno momento," I urgently bellowed back, but mentally kicking myself in the ass. "Wrong language, Tasha."

With scrutiny, I eyed the vicinity, continuously examining the area for any sign of Harry. Then off in the distance, I detected a baggy denim jacket crossing the street. Not wanting to lose him again, I leaped off of the awning and rolled forward to help buffer my fall. French words were thrown at me as I sped off, running at full speed across the asphalt.

They must really hate Americans now.

The Cité de L'architecture et du Patrimoine was a museum dedicated to french architecture, at least that's what I gathered as I ran past the massive, gorgeous white building. Glossy pamphlets scattered near the area, tumbling like autumn leaves as I kicked them away in attempt to keep a steady pace.

"Excusez moi," I hollered as I weaved in between the crowd of people dispersed across the vicinity.

Paris was a whole new playground for me, and I completely immersed myself in the unfamiliar surroundings. Everywhere I turned; every corner, staircase, lamp post, and wall became my personal jungle gym. I felt an indescribable rush every time I jumped over half walls or threw my body off concrete embankments. I was surrounded by stunning architecture, and decided that following Harry had its perks.

Harry walked inside what looked to be a boutique sandwich shop. The aroma of freshly roasted meat filled my nose each time the glass door opened, and my stomach churned from the savory scent. To my dismay, I had to be tortured by the delicious aroma while watching Harry eat a damn sandwich for an entire 33.62 minutes. I suddenly had regret in following the asshat because I could've been indulging on French food, and I was moments away from turning around.

What if I was totally wrong, and Harry just wanted to be by himself? Seriously, why couldn't I just follow his orders, and mind my own business? Why couldn't I— hold up.

The asshat was not alone.

Through the window, I was able to see Harry sitting at a table in the corner of the shop. He suddenly stood up, and an unknown man who looked to be several years older approached him— did I not notice this man walk in? This mystery man was drop-dead gorgeous, with messy brown hair and stubble on his face. His muscular arms flexed slightly as he grabbed the mug in front of him and took a sip. The more I stared at the mysterious snack— I mean, man— I couldn't help but to think that I've seen him somewhere. He looked familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time and I couldn't pin point why.

Both Harry and the mystery man were engaged in what seemed to be light conversation. They laughed together, and I shut down the theory that Harry was being shady. Until the smiles subsided and the man put his hand inside of his jacket while Harry wasn't looking.

"Harry..."

I mentally cursed at myself for not having a gun on me, and was seconds away from bolting inside the sandwich shop. Assessing the situation, I calculated all the ways in which I could use the surroundings to my advantage. I could run through the door, grab the stack of ceramic plates at the table near the barricade and frisbee it straight into the mystery man. Or I could leap against the trash bin, giving myself enough momentum to fly towards this man and tackle him to the ground.

Fortunately, it wasn't a pistol inside of his pocket— it was an envelope.

"What the?" I spoke to myself, watching the exchange take place.

The man slid the thin, baby blue package across the table, to which Harry took in his hands. He opened it slightly, taking a peek inside, and with a grateful smile, Harry lifted his head. He muttered several words to the mystery man before stuffing the envelop into his jacket pocket. The two males returned to a conversation that seemed innocuous to me, and I concluded that the meeting was harmless.

With a sigh, I spun on my heel, leaving the sandwich shop. I turned my coms back on, a beeping filling my left ear as I walked down the sidewalk. No more than ten seconds later, did I hear Niall's voice. Together with Liam, the two guided me through Paris as I headed to the restaurant they currently were situated at. Upon meeting up with the two happy boys, I forgot about Harry and his unexpected session in a Parisian deli. The exchange however, still gave me an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach, and when I finally returned to the hotel room, I asked to borrow Niall's computer.

"Sure, use it for as long as you need," Niall kindly handed me the pro-grade laptop before jumping onto one of the beds.

"What exactly are you researching?" Liam questioned. He threw off his shirt, and for a quick moment I was distracted with his sculpted torso.

"Uh," I couldn't peel my eyes away from Liam, who dug around his luggage for another shirt.

"Hey Tasha!" Liam snapped his fingers. "I'm not a piece of meat. My eyes are up here."

"Your abs are a distraction," I declared honestly, feeling the heat creep onto my cheeks. "Please cover them."

Liam complied with my request, a chuckle escaping him, as he slipped on a clean, white shirt. He repeated the prior question, situating himself on the second bed.

"Effie's grandma," I told him. "She kinda freaked me out when Effie told me her voodoo priestess grandma sensed a looming danger surrounding me."

I recited the words perfectly because I practiced them in my head over and over again. Telling Liam and Niall the truth about my sleuthing would mean having to defend my theories against Harry. I was done bickering with the two over their green-eyed teammate.

I strayed away from the military-grade navigating interfaces for fear of messing something up. So I used a computer application I could trust: Google. I opened up the web browser, and typed in Henry Feliz into the search bar. Immediately, several pages of results came up, but only a few were actually relevant. The most applicable webpages seemed to be news articles, and so I clicked on the first one.

"No fucking way," I breathed, my eyes glued to the laptop screen with absolute shock.

Following the trial of 18-year-old Kenneth Feliz, who was found guilty of raping a classmate, his parents, Jessica and Henry Feliz have formally declined association with their son. Feliz will serve ten years in Allenwood Penitentiary.

I remembered this year-long trial as it happened. The news coverage of Ken Feliz, who obtained a hockey scholarship to Boston University, swept the nation following the sexual harassment allegations. When he was found guilty, the media rejoiced during his sentencing. The judge showed no mercy for the pretty boy with bright eyes, and neither did his parents.

Almost a decade later and Ken was released early due to good behavior. Apparently he fell off the face of the Earth following his acquittal, because no one seemed to know where he ran off too. But as I sat on the couch of this hotel, I knew exactly where he was. Ken Feliz was in Paris, having coffee and croissants with stupid fucking Harry.

"I brought back pastries."

I didn't even notice Harry enter the hotel room till his deep voice shocked my insides. I lifted my eyes from the screen, to gaze at the rapist-sympathizer. He shimmied out of his jacket and hung it inside the closet. The comforting hum of the television screen had lulled both Liam and Niall into a deep sleep, and had yet to stir awake.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry gawked at me with discontent. "Why does it seem like you're going to chuck me off the balcony?"

"I don't know what kind of fucking game you're playing, but I will find out," I promised with a grim pitch. "When I do, I'm changing the rules, and you will lose."

"Why are you so against me?" Harry questioned. He approached me with agonizingly slow steps, his eyebrows knitted together with animosity. "You're always so pissed off at me for no damn reason."

I set Niall's laptop off to the side and stood up, "because I don't trust you. I don't know who you are, your motives, and to be frank, I don't want you here."

"You complain of my ego so much, you forget to check yours. You've got the biggest head, with the most arrogant soul," Harry alleged with a voice so menacing, it sent a tremor to my heart. "You may not want me here, but face it, you need me."

"I really don't," I denied harshly. "I don't need anyone who makes deals with the devil. You're shady Harry, and I've despised you since I met you two years ago."

"You're no cupcake walk either Tasha," Harry declared. He towered over me, notes of coffee and his sandalwood cologne tickling my nose. "Especially since you're a walking hypocrite."

"Excuse you," I glowered, clearly taking offense from Harry's erroneous accusation.

"For two years I've seen you advocate for those wrongly judged," Harry began. "But here you are, judging me, someone you know jack shit about. You assume the worst from me based on, what exactly? What solid evidence do you actually have that pins me to be the villain?"

"You've got a overwhelming cavalier demeanor dripping with uncouthness," I declared. I stood on the tips of my toes in attempt to match Harry's height, poking my finger against his clavicle.

"That's an opinion, not a fact," Harry shut down my statement with a smug expression that I wanted to dropkick off of his face.

"If that's the case, then you accusing me as a hypocrite is also an opinion; a terrible one at that," I retorted.

I glared at Harry, more angry with him than I had ever been. I hated how he had this innate ability to crawl beneath my skin, poisoning any bit of lightness in me. He didn't just push my buttons, he dismantled them.

"Well then Tash," Harry leaned unbelievably close to me, his lips barely caressing my ear, and at a whisper he continued, "prove me wrong."

The warmth of his breath tingled the entire area of where my right ear was, and I couldn't stop the shiver that sprouted up my spine. I didn't show its effect however, and just stood with there with narrowed brows. Harry stepped backwards with an unreadable expression, and turned his back on me. I watched with vexation as he strolled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. A moment later, the shower turned on and I was left standing there absolutely fuming.

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HUGE shoutout to Elleira_Siren for helping me with the French-English translation for this chapter! <3

Guys we're at 7K reads— holy moly that's amazing & I'm so proud! Thanks for all the support! If you're enjoying this story, let your friends know. Maybe they'd want to check out this book too :)

Also, I've never been to Paris (it'd be a dream), and I heavily studied Google maps as I figured out Tasha's path as she ran through the city. A lot of the buildings I mentioned, actually exist... I tried to do as much research as I could.

Thanks again & have an awesome day!!