Page 23 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

TRISTAN

The more days passed, the more I realized I had to talk to Eva.

I couldn’t stay silent while Audrey kept invading my thoughts.

Keeping the truth from her was putting our relationship at risk.

A relationship couldn’t be built on lies and secrets.

I owed her that much—it was obvious. But I didn’t do it.

Every morning, I woke up determined to talk to Eva.

And every night, I went to bed defeated by my own cowardice.

I didn’t want to see her world crumble because of my confession.

More than anything, I was terrified she’d ask me to choose.

The idea of losing Audrey paralyzed me. That thought filled me with shame, but it weighed too much on my conscience to ignore.

How could I even hesitate for a second between the woman I had loved for seven years and a mere attraction?

Day after day, my unspoken desires and guilt darkened my mood, eating me alive.

I could no longer meet Eva’s gaze, knowing full well I had feelings for another woman.

Every moment spent with her became an ordeal, and our relationship slowly crumbled.

To the point where I couldn’t even make love to her or say "I love you" anymore.

Those words, once so natural, got stuck in my throat, suffocated by shame and silent betrayal.

Eva tried to keep up appearances, but she was hurting. My betrayal was destroying her—I could see it in the torment in her eyes, in the pain she could no longer hide.

I needed to talk to someone, to get some perspective, and most of all, to quiet the conscience that haunted me day and night.

Steve, my usual confidant, was out of the question this time.

Telling him about Audrey would have been a death sentence.

I didn’t want to trigger his protective instincts toward Eva or risk turning my best friend against me.

So, I turned to Satoshi and asked him to grab a beer with me at six.

Did he have any idea what was coming? I doubted it, but he agreed without hesitation, seemingly happy to hang out, away from the chaos of the office.

We had our usual spot—a quiet bar tucked away in a secluded alley, far from the buzz of the more crowded places near work.

After a quick nod to the bartender who knew us well, we settled into a secluded booth, away from prying eyes and ears.

The bar was our usual refuge, a place where time seemed to slow down and problems felt a little less overwhelming.

The dim lighting, the worn leather chairs, the familiar scent of aged wood—everything invited confession.

Two beers in, with the tension in my shoulders starting to ease, the words finally spilled out. Satoshi listened without flinching, his face unreadable, his sharp eyes locked onto me.

"Do you love Audrey?"

His question hit like a punch to the gut. I took a deep breath, searching for the truth beneath the desire clouding my judgment.

"No... It’s different. She fascinates me, yes. This attraction burns me up at times, but it’s not love. Eva... Eva is my whole life."

Satoshi set his glass down deliberately, his piercing gaze drilling into me, as if trying to uncover the truth I might have been hiding from myself.

"Is she, though? Or are you just trying to hold onto a memory?"

It was a fair question. Ever since my trip to New York, my emotions had been tangled. The love I thought I had for Eva, my growing fascination with Audrey, the relentless guilt, the deep-seated fear of turning into my father, who had shattered our family—I didn’t know what was real anymore.

"You’re going to have to choose, you know."

"There’s no choice to make," I protested, my voice carrying a conviction I didn’t fully believe. "Eva is the woman I love. This... whatever this is with Audrey—it’ll pass. It’s just a moment of weakness."

"You want to believe that. But if it were that simple, you wouldn’t be here talking to me." he replied calmly, his gaze unwavering. "It’s easy to make declarations when you’re not in the same room as her. But what about when you catch her scent? When your eyes meet?"

"You’re really not helping me here."

I knew he was right, and that terrified me.

What I felt for Audrey was more than just physical attraction—I was starting to develop feelings for her, something deep-rooted, despite all my resistance.

But I refused to go down that road. I refused to be the guy torn between two women, the indecisive man who hurt everyone because he couldn’t make up his mind.

"I’m not here to tell you what you want to hear," Satoshi continued, blunt as ever. "If you’re talking to me about this, it’s because you’re losing control of the situation.

My advice? Put distance between you and Audrey.

Distance might be enough to break the spell, to snap you out of this.

Then, you can figure out where you and Eva really stand—whether you still have something to fight for or if your story ends here. "

The thought of losing Eva was unbearable, like losing a part of myself.

Despite the tension, despite Audrey and the guilt gnawing at me, I couldn’t picture a future without Eva—without her laughter, her warmth, the way she filled every empty space in my life.

Satoshi was probably right, brutally honest as always.

I just had to put some distance between Audrey and me, and everything would go back to normal, like before.

It wouldn’t be easy—Audrey would probably take it as a rejection—but there was no other choice.

Hesitating any longer would be cruel to both of them, and I refused to be that guy.

I could do this. I had to do this. For Eva. For us. For the man I wanted to be.

I repeated those words to myself like a mantra, hoping they’d take root, hoping they’d become stronger than the desire eating away at me.

When I walked through the door that night, darkness greeted me.

No noise, no lights. The silence was suffocating.

After checking the rooms, the truth hit me: Eva wasn’t home.

I stared at my phone, searching for a missed message, an explanation for her absence.

Nothing. Worry crept in, bringing darker thoughts. An accident? An attack?

The sound of the front door made me jump. Eva appeared, her face unreadable, her expression distant.

"Hey," she said, offering a polite smile, almost detached. "You’re home early?"

"Where were you?"

The tension in my voice surprised even me.

Her expression hardened instantly.

"At the gym."

That’s when I noticed her bag and damp hair. Her explanation should have reassured me, but irrational jealousy had already taken hold.

"Since when do you stay this late?"

The question slipped out, heavy with unspoken accusations I regretted the moment I said them. Images of Eva with another man invaded my mind, tormenting me.

"Since you never get home before nine," she shot back, her icy tone reminding me of my own behavior.

The words left my mouth—mean, unfair.

"Funny, this sudden interest in working out."

I regretted them instantly, but it was too late. They hung in the air between us, poisoning the already fragile space we shared.

Her eyes filled with exhaustion, disillusionment.

"Really?" she said bitterly. "You’re confusing me with someone else."

She suddenly seemed so resigned, as if she had already given up on us.

Fear gripped me. Was I losing her? The thought of Eva choosing someone else sent a cold dread through me. But was I even capable of winning her back? Or was it already too late?

Dinner that night was pure torture. We sat across from each other, yet we felt miles apart. I kept searching for a glance, a sign, an opening where I could slip in an apology, but Eva just ate in silence, her face unreadable.

And I stayed quiet, unable to find the right words. Not because they didn’t exist, but because I knew they wouldn’t be enough anymore.

That evening was a wake-up call. The mere thought of Eva being with another man had driven me insane. That raw, visceral jealousy made me realize just how much I was ruining everything. My desire for Audrey was threatening to destroy the most precious thing I had.

The next day, I put Satoshi’s advice into action. No more one-on-one meetings with Audrey, no more lingering conversations, no more dangerous complicity. I maintained a strict, almost cold professional distance. For business trips, I made sure never to be alone with her.

I had too much to lose. Eva was my anchor, my light. I couldn’t let a fleeting attraction destroy everything. That’s how I ended up flying to Norway with Steve.

Snow fell lazily over Oslo, turning the city into a picture-perfect winter postcard. After a long day of negotiations, Steve and I were heading back to our hotel when he suddenly stopped, captivated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas market.

"Hey, what do you think about checking it out? I heard it’s incredible."

Fatigue weighed on me, but the thought of finding something for Eva gave me a second wind.

"Why not? I could use a gift for Eva."

The market was a wonderland of lights and scents. The crisp air carried the aroma of mulled wine and gingerbread, while wooden stalls overflowed with shimmering ornaments. Steve pulled out his phone, capturing the magical scene.

"Hey, Tristan, give me a smile!"

He snapped a picture and sent it to Eva. Her response was immediate.

EVA : No way! You went to a Christmas market without me?!

Her message made us burst into laughter. I could almost hear her playfully outraged tone, picture her adorable pout. Eva and her obsession with Christmas markets… Just the thought of it warmed my heart more than the spiced wine in my hands.

At a stand selling wool accessories, I stopped, drawn to a scarf in shades of gray and blue. The fabric was unbelievably soft beneath my fingers.

"I think I’ll get this for Eva."

"She’s going to love it," Steve nodded approvingly.

I also picked up some local pastries, already imagining Eva’s delighted expression as she tasted them with that curious, indulgent look she always had. I missed those little moments with her terribly.

As we passed the dazzling display of Oslo’s most prestigious jewelry boutique, an impulse made me stop.

Inside, under the glow of crystal chandeliers, my eyes roamed over the glass cases, searching for something truly special for Eva.

I wanted to bring her back a piece that was as exceptional as she was—something that reflected her love for sculpture.

And then I saw it: a breathtaking pendant of a leaping reindeer, crafted in platinum and set with rare Arctic blue diamonds.

The creature seemed almost alive, capturing the untamed beauty and elegance of Nordic wildlife in a single graceful motion.

I could already picture it resting against Eva’s collarbone, her natural elegance amplified by this exquisite piece.

"A one-of-a-kind creation, sir," the jeweler said in Norwegian before switching to English. "These diamonds are sourced from the historic mines of Greenland."

I nodded, unfazed by the discreet mention of its astronomical price. My gaze then caught a white gold bracelet—simpler, but just as refined. Tiny diamonds were arranged like delicate snowflakes. Without hesitation, I added it to my purchase.