Hey guys! Thank you for your patience with this chapter, it took longer than I had anticipated, with being super stressed about residency interviews and feeling surprisingly uninspired to work on this fanfic (instead spending way too much time reading Katie McGarry's 'Pushing the Limits' series and ignoring all other responsibilities). But I'm back with the second of the Paris chapters, the one that everyone has been waiting for, so read on and enjoy!

Gonna reply to reviews on the previous chapter, thanks so much for the love and to everyone who reviewed!

Guest: Thank you, I'm humbled that the previous chapter made you like the Gralexei ship even more and that you enjoyed the songs that inspired it! I'm glad you also think those songs fit the chapter. I hope this chapter finds you well!

Tessa Jane: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter! I definitely agree that Dominic can be a real softie with a vulnerable side and really enjoyed fleshing out his character more, I'm glad you've liked reading about it.

Guest: Read on to find out if the bridge scene is indeed next ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Embassy Row series and all the characters (except for Tanner and Jordan and Alexei's Moscow friends, who are my own creations). They belong to Ally Carter. I am merely using her characters and plotline to create this fanfiction. I have no intention of profiting off the Embassy Row series in any way. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes and would not exist without Ally Carter's wonderful works.

The events that happen in this fanfiction are not meant to be representative of real life. Any similarities to any real-life events or fictional works is purely coincidental and not intentional (with the exception of the original Embassy Row books by Ally Carter since this fanfiction is literally Take the Key and Lock Her Up but from Alexei's, not Grace's, perspective). The character's actions may not always reflect my own opinions or views. Based on what happens or is mentioned in this chapter (spoiler alert), I do not condone physical fighting, suicide pacts, or disguising one's identity.

Content warning: mild to moderate
This fanfiction is rated T, for suggestive themes, language, and violence. This chapter contains graphic depictions of physical violence, mild to moderate language, and mentions of suicide and death. Please read at your own discretion. If you are experiencing any suicidal thoughts or deterioration in your mental health as a result of reading this chapter, then please contact a mental health professional or a suicide hotline.

Chapter Nine: Love in the City of Lights

I woke up groggy, barely getting six fitful hours of sleep, my mind preoccupied with finding Grace, especially after Dominic's text. 12 noon. Pont Alexandre III. Was Grace going to meet someone there? Or was that the location of the Society's next move? Maybe Dominic's contact had gotten Grace's location and was meeting me there to inform me. Although I had no idea what to make of that time and location, it was nice to have something concrete to go off, instead of aimlessly wandering around the city, looking for everything and nothing.

Regardless, this bridge meetup, whatever it entailed, was my one big shot to find Grace. I could not mess it up. Otherwise, Jamie, Dominic, and everyone back in Adria would never forgive me. Most importantly, I wouldn't ever forgive myself. This was my one chance to find the girl I love and bring her back to safety. If I let her go, for potentially forever, then I would have to live the rest of my life with that pain and guilt. I saw how that pain ate Dominic alive, how it kept him up at night and hit him at the most unexpected moments. I didn't want to go through it if I could help it. Maybe Dominic couldn't save the love of his life but I could. And I would, no matter what it took.

I sat up, debating if I should try to disguise myself. Dominic had said there was a supply closet in case I needed to but I really hoped it wouldn't come down to that. On the one hand, I'd be able to wander Paris without worrying about watching my back. However, I didn't know if it would be worth the effort, especially since I had about two hours to get ready and be at Pont Alexandre III and there was no way I had the time and skill to replicate what Dominic and Maria had done to transform me. On the other hand, there was the off chance someone could recognize me from the news reports and turn me in, even though those reports were already weeks old. Besides, I didn't want to be captured by law enforcement right before reaching the bridge.

I wandered around the townhouse, opening doors at random until I found what had to be the supply closet. One look told me there was no way I could effectively use any of the hair dyes, makeup, or complicated disguises, not without drawing unwanted attention to myself.

I dug through my backpack and duffel bag, looking through the meager supply of clothes I had packed. I found the hoodie and sunglasses Dominic had given me to disguise myself during that getaway car ride in Mexico. I hadn't remembered packing them but they would suffice for a temporary cover up, until I could get to Pont Alexandre III. I headed back to the supply closet, digging around until I found a baseball cap. I put it on, stuffing my hair underneath it, then pulled up the hood on the hoodie.

I headed to the bathroom, quickly glancing in the mirror. My eyes and hair, arguably my most distinctive features, were sufficiently covered. With a quick glance, it would probably be difficult for the average citizen to match my face to the pictures that had been shown on international news. However, it was still inconspicuous enough that no one would give me a second glance. Hopefully, I would fit in just fine, until I got to Pont Alexandre III.

I gathered my backpack and duffel bag, wondering what to do with them. I certainly didn't want to be lugging them with me to the bridge, especially if I needed to make a quick get-away. And I didn't want to return to the safe house, particularly if I ended up with a tail after the bridge meeting.

I then remembered that the big train stations in Paris had storage lockers for luggage. I wasn't sure how safe they were but it was better than carrying my bags around all morning. At the very least, I could put my duffel bag in one of the lockers. On the other hand, there was no way I would leave the backpack in the lockers. While clothes were easily replaceable, the artifacts from Grace's mother's shop were priceless. There was no way I'd risk leaving those unattended.

So leaving the duffel bag in a storage locker didn't sound like a bad idea. However, the clock was ticking. I wasn't sure if I could drop the duffel bag off at a train station and still make it to the bridge on time.

But Dominic had given me a phone number for one of his contacts in Paris. Could I ask them to drop off the duffel bag for me? Surely, if they were Dominic-approved, they'd have to be pretty damn trustworthy. It didn't seem like too big a task and if they decided to take off with the bag, then I wouldn't be too disappointed. I supposed it was worth a shot. I pulled out the piece of paper containing the name and phone number for the contact. I sent them a text in French, grateful for all those years of French I had taken. They replied within seconds, instructing me to meet them at a nearby café.

I quickly made sure all my belongings were packed up then did a once-over of the house, ensuring I wasn't leaving anything behind. After checking that the coast was clear, I exited the house, locking the door behind me. I walked over to the café at a nice, easy pace, where Dominic's contact, a well-dressed Afro-French man in his forties, was waiting. I handed him the bag with a ten-euro note before handing inside for a quick breakfast of half a baguette slathered with butter and jam and a steaming cup of café au lait.

I stared out the window as I ate, taking in the sights before me. A steady stream of people passed by the café window, mostly locals in professional business clothing with the occasional casually dressed tourist. The morning sunlight gleamed in the shop window across the street, where lively accordion tones came from a busker outside its door. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked baguettes permeated throughout the café. The baguette was soft and chewy, melting in my mouth. The café au lait was sweet and creamy, my body feeling more alive with each sip. So this was life in Paris, which would have been much more enjoyable if it weren't for the dire task at hand. Maybe one day, I could return and take this all in for what it was worth.

After finishing my breakfast, I checked the time on the burner cell. 11:30 a.m. I was cutting it close. Hopefully, I would still make it on time if I ran. Or better yet, I could take the Metro. I ran over to the nearest Metro station, asking the station attendant for the quickest way to Pont Alexandre III. I ran down the stairs to the platform as fast as I could, just barely making the train that was about to leave. Luckily, I didn't have to transfer but it didn't stop the anxiety from building as the train slowly rolled along. At my stop, I ran off the train, once again taking the stairs two at a time. I didn't slow my pace when I got onto the street, only stopping when the burner cell vibrated.

"ur bag is in locker #836 at Gare du Nord. Key is with the station attendant" I let out a sigh of relief. Dominic's contact had come through after all.

"merci" I replied, before shoving the phone into my backpack, continuing on my way. I ran through the curving, narrow streets of Paris, weaving my way through people as best as I could. Time was getting tight.

After running for what felt like forever, the bridge finally came into view. But the guards standing at attention at its entrance seemed odd. Had diplomatic relations really gotten that bad that security guards were needed at all the major landmarks? However, as I got closer, I realized they weren't typical security guards. No, they looked like they were specially trained, designed to be guarding someone, not the general public. But who could possibly need that type of security personnel?

I slowed my pace to a walk, trying to act as innocent as possible. Around me, tourists snapped pictures on the bridge, the Parisian skyline in the background. Couples strolled hand-in-hand along the Seine, staring lovingly at each other. It reminded me of walking alongside the Moskva River with Yulia that one evening. One day, I hoped to go on a riverside walk with Grace. It didn't matter where in the world, just as long as it was with her.

However, there were two figures standing in the center of the bridge, frozen in time in their own conversation as the rest of the world moved on around them. A short, blonde girl in an oversized hoodie. That had to be Grace; I didn't know who else it could be. And a taller, more elegant figure in a trench coat, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. It looked like I wasn't the only one who thought a baseball cap and sunglasses would make an excellent disguise. But who could Grace be meeting, who would possibly need that?

The tall figure shifted, allowing me to get a better look at them. Suddenly, the disguise and the personal guards made sense. It had to be Princess Ann. I remembered how she had stopped by the Russian embassy the day after the island party and how even then, she needed her guards to escort her back to the palace. I imagined it wouldn't be any different in one of the biggest cities in Europe. But why was she meeting with Grace and here, of all places? Was it about Society matters?

Either way, something didn't seem right. Grace's body language was all wrong, too fearful. And despite her cordial, diplomatic look, something was off with the princess, like she knew more than she was letting on and had Grace trapped right where she wanted her. I slowly edged closer as Grace moved further, towards the railing, pleading with the princess as she looked around frantically, like a trapped animal. I so desperately wanted to get in there, to take her hand and tell her to run far, far away with me. But whatever was happening, this was clearly between Grace and Princess Ann, and it was very wrong, too wrong.

All around me, it seemed like everyone had their eyes on the two figures arguing on the bridge, watching, waiting. The tourists at a cart full of souvenirs weren't admiring the souvenirs. The woman with a baby stroller didn't have her attention on the baby. The policeman standing guard was hyper-focused on the bridge, and in particular, Grace and Princess Ann.

"I can help you!" Princess Ann shouted. I doubted that was the case. Had she stationed all these people here, waiting for the perfect moment to corner Grace so they could descend upon her? With a start, I realized I was Grace's only true ally here, the only one who wouldn't play mind games with her. Did she know I was here, waiting to take her back to safety? She hadn't spotted me yet and I didn't think she knew I was in Paris. She shook her head at the princess, inching further still towards the railing.

I ducked behind a tree, out of sight of the guards. I took off the sunglasses and the baseball cap, shoving them into the backpack. Surely, the guards would have had their eye on me, as I suspiciously watched the conversation unfold. Perhaps they thought I was just taking a moment to enjoy the scenery.

I carefully kept my eye on Grace and the princess. If something happened, I had one shot to get in there, get Grace, and get her out of here. I wasn't sure if I could take down four likely armed guards and at least four other civilians on my own but I had to try, for Grace's sake. It was a dire situation, the odds not in my favour. If I somehow made it out of this alive, then Grace and I would be safe. If not… I didn't even want to think about the consequences. But I didn't have another choice.

All too soon, everyone moved to the sound of sirens, guards and civilians alike swarming the bridge, descending on Grace and Princess Ann like one trained mass with the same shared mentality. It was almost eerie to watch, especially since the princess stood there the whole time, simply watching, waiting, like the mastermind that she was. My body ached to run in there, my blood pumping through my veins, the adrenaline screaming at me to go, to rush to Grace's side right away but I had to time this well. No one had noticed me yet, not even the guards I passed by earlier. As far as everyone on the bridge knew, I was non-existent.

The guards on my side of the bridge had their backs to me, still descending upon Grace. I slowly crept out of my hiding spot, gradually picking up my pace until I was at a full-on sprint. I redirected myself towards one of the guards, slamming into him from behind, steering him towards one of the many streetlamps adorning the bridge's railing. He pushed back at me, but not before hitting the streetlamp hard. His buddy noticed what was happening and bolted towards me. At once, my fighting instincts kicked in, as I threw punches and kicks, fending off two men at the same time. As expected, they didn't go down without a fight. They descended upon me, tag-teaming to send hits my way. I really had to focus, dodging hits from every direction while still trying to land hits of my own.

One of the guards momentarily peeked over to where Grace was fighting a couple of the civilians. I took that opportunity, aiming one punch at the guard's shoulder then another right after to his gut. He doubled over in pain. His buddy rushed to make a move at me but I side-stepped, coming back with a sweeping roundhouse kick, knocking him off his feet, just like Mikhail had taught me. He flew right towards the streetlamp, knocking his head hard against the pole, slumping to the ground. I wasn't sure how long he'd be out, a few seconds or a few hours, but that would be enough time for me to hopefully take down the second guard, who was currently charging at me.

I hopped up onto the railing and grabbed onto the streetlamp, swinging myself around to gain momentum. As the guard tried to grab at me, confused by my spinning, I flung myself at his back, pushing him towards the railing. Thanks to the speed he was running at and his weight, he lurched hard. I pushed his feet up and threw him as hard as I could, sending him flipping over the railing to the river below. I spun back towards the center of the bridge, nothing standing between me and my goal.

"Gracie!" I shouted, sprinting towards her. She looked at me, like a deer caught in headlights. I closed the distance between us, reaching out to grab her hand.

"Come on!" Unfortunately, she stayed put, looking at me dumbly.

"What are you doing here?" Grace asked. Seriously?

"What do you think I'm doing here?" I retorted. Was I really going to have to drag her, kicking and screaming, off this bridge? Couldn't she just appreciate that someone familiar was here to help her and accept it?

Around us, the guards kept descending. The guard that I had sent crashing into the streetlamp had unfortunately recovered, slowly wobbling his way over to us. In his weakened state, it wouldn't take me long to subdue him again, but it was still another obstacle impeding our escape.

"Come on." I pulled her towards the end of the bridge.

"No." Grace planted her feet firmly, pulling me back towards the center of the bridge. Christ, what the hell was wrong with her?

"Grace, we've got to get you out of here!" I shouted. The longer she kept delaying this, the worse it would get. It would give the princess more opportunity to call for back-up, ensuring we'd never make it off this bridge alive, or free. I had to get her out of here now, while things were still relatively tame.

However, Grace just dropped my hand, stepping closer to the center of the bridge, eyeing the railing and the gushing river below, like she was under a trance. Oh my god, was she on some kind of suicide mission? Is that why she didn't want to come with me?

"Grace!" I yelled. If she was going to jump off this bridge, then I needed to talk some sense into her. She looked down at the water, almost like she was searching for something. Whether that was her sanity or her will to live, I wasn't sure. On both sides, the guards were charging towards us and more civilians were approaching from the street. Clearly, the princess had already called for her back-up, making our odds of getting out of here alive much, much lower.

I looked back at her, silently pleading with her to get away from the railing. As her eyes met mine, she simply held her hand out to me. "Do you trust me?"

What the hell was she going on about now? Yet, as I stared into her determined eyes, she didn't look like someone on a suicide mission. No, she looked like someone with a plan. What that was, I had no clue or if it would even be a good idea to go along with it in the first place.

The guards were closing in, lumbering footsteps and laboured breathing getting louder and louder, leaving us with less room to run. We had to act now, if we wanted even the slightest chance of making it out of here alive. It was either stay put and fight off the hoards of men threatening to swarm us or trust her with whatever plan she had in mind, which was starting to seem more like an unspoken suicide pact by the second. But even if that was all she had in mind, then at least I wouldn't die alone.

Grace shook her hand again. Without thinking, I took her hand in mine, relishing in how natural and right it felt. Grace stepped onto the wide railing of the bridge. I joined her, nothing but the Seine River in front of us, feeling it was the two of us against the entire world. But somehow, I was okay with it, knowing it was Grace who stood by my side. We could conquer anything, take on anyone, as long as we were together.

I looked down into her eyes, perhaps for the last time in my life. In this intense moment, she was so beautiful. I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline rush making me feel this way or if it was something else, something more. I took in her face, as if it were the last time I would do it, time standing still around us. Her round face with soft features, her naturally curving eyebrows, her large brown eyes framed by delicate blonde eyelashes, her small, sloping nose, and lastly, her lips, full and soft-looking in the perfect shade of pale pink. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips.

Before I knew what was happening, Grace's fingers threaded through my hair, tugging me towards her. Suddenly, her lips crashed into mine. My mind froze. Grace was in front of me and she was… kissing me?

Just as quickly as it happened, she pulled away from me. I stared down at her, my brain not working properly. How long had I waited for this moment, to finally be able to kiss her? All the times I had kissed Yulia, only to want to kiss Grace instead. And now, it had finally happened, just not in the way I had thought it might and under very extreme circumstances. What had compelled to her to kiss me? Was it the fear and adrenaline, from being on this bridge with people closing in on us? Or was it something more? Either way, surely, she had to feel something, anything for me if she kissed me. Did that mean… there was the potential for a future relationship with her, provided we even made it off this bridge alive?

However, I didn't have time to further question that, or everything that had just happened. The sirens were louder, the cries of "Arrêter! Il y a des agents de police!" more desperate and panicked. I followed Grace's gaze towards the men that had almost approached us then over to the water, where the bow of a red boat was slowly making its way out from underneath the bridge, flowing right under where we were standing.

Grace suddenly let go of my hand. I looked at her in alarm. Was this her plan, to jump to her death? Had she played me this whole time, just to pull me into a suicide pact? Regardless, she just looked at me earnestly.

"Thank you," she said, before launching herself off the railing of the bridge.

Song Inspo:
Yann Tiersen – 'La Noyee' (from the Amélie soundtrack)
Genre/ Subgenre: Soundtrack/ Bal-musette
It was only fitting that another song from the Amélie soundtrack inspired the second Paris chapter! This song also creates the atmosphere of feeling like you're really in Paris. But the desperate tone and gradually quickening pace really adds to the frantic and desperate feelings of the fight scene, of finding Grace and the infamous Gralexei first kiss, and of Alexei not knowing what's going to happen next, creating the atmosphere of a tense moment in Paris.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be up between Mar. 31 and Apr. 10. I still have 2 more interviews then my research project is due at the end of the month, as is my ranking of all the residency programs I interviewed at (to be submitted to a computer algorithm, which will basically match my program rankings against how the programs ranked me to determine where I'll ultimately end up training for the next few years). So it'll be a few weeks before the next chapter comes out.

So the big Gralexei moment has happened! I hope I did this chapter justice since it's such a critical scene. What do you think happens next?