Billionaire's Accidental Wife novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9 The Montblanc Mountain Range Goldsmith’s Inn, Twenty Miles from Sebastian’s residence The early autumn chill bit at the man’s skin, which was still exposed to the elements. It wasn’t the bone-chilling cold of winter. This had a distinct vibe, softer in some ways.

Dry leaves and campfires filled the air. The source, the golden-haired man understood, was the fireplace of Goldsmith’s Inn. He’d been there before on his way through this region of the northern mountains, and he knew the owner and cook, Mrs. Gray, would be making some kind of stew right about now.

He got a scent of onions, garlic, and chicken stew just on cue. The odour entered his nostrils and travelled directly to his gut, generating a loud rumble.

He hadn’t eaten anything all day, save for a biscuit for breakfast and a piece of dry pork for

lunch. His strategy had always been to travel light and quickly, then have a large dinner.

However, he couldn’t see the Inn’s lights, but he knew it was around the corner.

He yanked on his jacket’s long collar to keep the last few minutes of chill at bay. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, flinging leaves from their limbs. The colourful flurries danced through the air as they fell around the man, driving an old jeep. While he would have liked to enjoy the display illuminated by the light of a half-moon, he knew the sooner he arrived at Goldsmith’s, the better.

The Montblanc northern trail was a dangerous patch of road. It has one of the most impressive and beautiful ranges in the world, and it’s a relatively accessible trail for anyone in good shape, but it’s among the hardest, patrolled by bandits and the occasional native. The bandits were the worst of the two-though there were stretches that ran through some of the more aggressive tribes’ land. The mountain stands between the regions of Aosta Valley, Italy, and Savoie and Haute-Savoie, France. It gives its name to the Mont Blanc massif, bordering Switzerland and forming part of a larger range referred to as the Graian Alps. The location of the summit of Mont Blanc was on the watershed line between the valleys of Ferret and Veny in Italy and the valleys of Montjoie, and Arve in France, on the border between the two countries.

Something other than the wind rustled in the forest to his right. The golden-haired man pulled one of his pistols and swung it around, aiming it into the pitch-dark thicket of oak, maple, and poplar trees. The branches above loomed like skeleton fingers against the pale glow in the sky and the twinkling stars.

The noise to his right grew louder. The camper’s horse snorted and shifted its feet while he watched another man in the saddle keep his focus a dozen feet below the ravine with a torch in its hand. He wasn’t new to this sort of thing and didn’t spook easily. In fact, the sense of fear sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, and for the first time in three years, he felt alive as he halted the jeep and waited.

Levi’s breath pulsed out of his nose and mouth in short bursts of misty clouds. His eyes remained focused on the dark as the sound grew closer. Someone was coming, and they were

being clumsy about it. A drunk from Goldsmith’s, perhaps, lost in the woods? The sound swelled, feet clomping through leaves and sticks, fur brushing against the bark of tree trunks. The man’s trigger finger tensioned, and he cocked back the hammer. If he missed, he had three more, plus a rifle and a small gun. Suddenly, the intruder’s eyes flashed white amid a long, pointy face covered in light brown fur. “Just a deer,” Levi grumbled. He sighed, while the man on the horse kept its steady pace, almost disappointed, as the animal emerged from the forest. Its antlers branched out in several directions, showing the buck’s age. Levi watched the man disappear in the next clearing as he continued his drive to the dirt road.

Levi bit his lip, took another look around to survey the area, and stuffed the pistol back into the folds of his coat. Five years. Five long years since he’d come back to a hero’s welcome. There’d been parades, fanfare, and every luxury he could have ever imagined. Luxury, however, wasn’t something Marcos Levi desired.

The mission to map a large section of the Montblanc Mountain range and-hopefully discover a northwest passage to the Champex-Lac had been an immense success. Though they never found the legendary river system that could connect the eastern part of the continent to the west, Captain Levi and his friend Sebastian had explored further than anyone up to that point and were lauded as celebrities.

Those days seem like ancient history now.