Page 11 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

EVA

From : [email protected]

To : [email protected]

Eva,

I have an unexpected issue and won't be available for our meeting. Anyway, we were aligned on our objectives. So no need to spend more time on it.

Regards,

Tristan de La Tour

This was the second such message this week.

And each ti me, the same unpleasant feeling settled in me.

Did he realize he was canceling our work meetings to spend time with Audrey?

Sure, they were making progress together on the funding round, but that wasn't enough to ease this feeling of being sidelined.

As the days passed, Tristan seemed increasingly absorbed by Audrey.

It wasn't just professional admiration; that, I could have accepted.

No, there was something else. A spark I knew too well.

A tremor in his voice, a particular gleam in his eyes, that slight smile that, without him realizing it, appeared when he talked about her.

All of this was painfully familiar to me.

We had fallen in love exactly like that, Tristan and I. Working as partners in our third year of business school had brought us closer, almost naturally, almost inevitably. I remembered those long evenings of work, where every topic became an excuse to prolong our exchanges.

I could see Tristan in the early days of Community Pilot, his eyes shining with enthusiasm, our passionate discussions that seemed never to want to end. He had that way of listening, that total immersion in our ideas, as if nothing else existed.

Today, that same gleam lit up his eyes when he talked about Audrey. It wasn't so much his words as the way he pronounced them. A slight pause before saying her name. An imperceptible restraint when he mentioned her in front of me. As if he was unconsciously trying not to say too much.

But sometimes, the momentum took over.

"Audrey has an incredible sense of anticipation," he had confided to me one evening as we were dining together. "I don't even need to explain; she grasps everything immediately... Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without her."

I had nodded, unable to find anything to say. His words resonated strangely, like an echo of a past I thought was behind me.

Another evening, as he was recounting his day, his gaze had animated with an almost childlike energy.

"If you had seen Audrey with that partner... In a few sentences, she turned the situation around. It was impressive."

I had smiled. But deep down, something in me had closed off.

Each time he mentioned her name, a worry took root a little deeper. Did he realize she was inserting herself into all our conversations, even outside office hours? That she occupied his thoughts well beyond work?

I tried to reason with myself, to tell myself that I was perhaps too sensitive, that I was projecting my own insecurities.

After all, Tristan had always known how to recognize talent in his colleagues.

But this time, it was different. There was, in his voice, a new nuance, something that fed my fears. A doubt that refused to be silenced.

I dismissed these thoughts and took a breath. An important meeting awaited me.

I ran into Audrey in the hallway. As usual, she gave me that mocking smirk that infuriated me. I knew exactly what game she was playing. She wanted to push me to the limit, make me react, then run to complain to Tristan. But she wouldn't get me.

That didn't change the obvious: my position was precarious. Because the man I loved, under the pretext that I was in a position of power, would choose to defend her. The poor assistant.

Seeing that I wasn't taking the bait, Audrey pivoted on her heels and headed toward Tristan's office, as if on conquered territory.

I knew she was spending more and more time there.

And the worst part was that I noticed it.

I was ashamed of it. Me, the general manager, counting minutes like a jealous teenager.

I wanted to compartmentalize, maintain a clear separation between my role and my emotions. But despite all my efforts, it was impossible for me not to see her as a rival. Because that's what she was. And the fact that Tristan refused to realize it only made her more dangerous.

My heart tightened when I saw her enter his office and close the door behind her.

I took a deep breath, swallowed my distress, and focused on my next appointment.

Marco, my driver and bodyguard, was waiting for me by the elevator. We exchanged a brief nod before entering the elevator cabin.

With his former commando build and chiseled features, Marco commanded respect. But I had learned to see beyond appearances. And over the years, I believe we had become friends.

"How's your son?" I asked him as the elevator descended to the building's basement.

"He told me yesterday that he has a girlfriend," he replied, offended.

"That's normal for his age," I replied, amused.

"He's only eleven!" he protested. "But that's not the problem. Two weeks ago, he was dating a guy! He's going to drive me crazy!"

I suppressed a burst of laughter, but his sideways glance made me understand he wasn't fooled.

"Wait your turn; you won't be laughing then!"

"You know, I think it's great, actually," I told him.

"I don't follow you."

"I think it's wonderful that our era allows young people to freely explore their attraction. Gay, bi, or straight, what matters most is love."

He rolled his eyes with an expression that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

"You're too pure for our world, Eva."

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened.

Marco stepped forward, scanned the parking lot with his usual professionalism before guiding me to the car, a metallic gray Mercedes-Benz S-Class.

He opened the rear door and waited for me to get in before closing it. I took out my computer and got to work.

When I arrived at Mackellen Industries headquarters, on the outskirts of Paris, a charming receptionist welcomed me and led me directly to the meeting room.

The CEO, Mr. Mackellen, was waiting for me there, his benevolent smile barely hiding calculated curiosity.

The room, with its resolutely industrial style, reflected the pragmatic spirit of the company.

"Hello, Mr. Mackellen, thank you for seeing me. I know how busy your schedule is," I said, taking a seat opposite him.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Mercier," he replied in a measured voice. "I'm delighted to meet someone with your level of responsibility, and even more so for such a noble cause. How can I be of assistance?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that the first words would be crucial to capture his interest.

"We're trying to offer young people from disadvantaged backgrounds a chance to discover scientific and technical professions, but above all, to open new horizons for them. For this, I want to offer them an experience within a company like yours."

He raised an eyebrow, both intrigued and cautious.

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"I know that Mackellen Industries is a pioneer in creating robots designed to assist people with reduced mobility, and I think it would be wonderful to open your doors to some young people as part of an observational internship.

This would allow them not only to discover a stimulating work environment but also to fully grasp the vision and values that drive your company. "

"You're thinking of a simple visit?" he asked, looking dubious.

"Not just that," I replied with a confident smile.

"I envision a two-part program: first, a discovery day to raise awareness, then a one-month internship for the most motivated ones, where they could immerse themselves in key departments.

A mentor would guide them, of course, to ensure they're supervised throughout the experience. "

Mr. Mackellen thought for a moment, his fingers gently tapping the table, betraying his reservations.

"A month is a long time. We already have programs in place, and I can't tie up my teams full-time for this."

"I completely understand, and I'm ready to adjust the duration.

Perhaps two weeks would be a good compromise?

The goal isn't to train them in depth but to show them the great work you're doing here so they have the right references.

With mentors on site, I'm convinced the experience will be enriching for them without disrupting your teams too much. "

He stared at me for a long time, his eyes shining with a calculating gleam. The silence stretched, and I maintained his gaze without wavering. Finally, he slowly nodded.

"Two weeks seems doable, provided they're well supervised. But I want to make sure it's also beneficial for the company. Maybe they could participate in a specific project?"

I hastened to agree, relieved but keeping my enthusiasm measured.

"Of course, I think they would be delighted to contribute to something concrete. That would make their experience even more valuable."

Mr. Mackellen looked at me, slightly amused.

"You know how to conduct your negotiations, Mrs. Mercier. I hope your project will be a success."

I smiled at him sincerely.

"Thank you, I know how precious each day you grant them is. Your support is invaluable."