Page 28 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

EVA

I heard Tristan get up at seven. Like me, he had only slept a few hours.

The night had been long, filled with swirling thoughts and dull anxieties.

I got up and went to the adjoining bathroom to freshen up.

The mirror reflected the image of a face marked by insomnia, with dark circles and a pale complexion.

Yet I couldn't stay hidden forever. I had to face this day, face Tristan.

I found him standing in front of the coffee machine. As I approached, he looked up and our eyes met. I saw in his a vulnerability I had never seen before, as if his usual confidence had collapsed since yesterday morning. He didn't speak, waiting for me to decide our future.

Without a word, I moved toward him and nestled in his arms, granting by this gesture the forgiveness he dared not hope for.

I felt relief unknot each of his muscles as he embraced me.

I breathed in his familiar scent and let the warmth of his body warm my soul.

We remained like this for a long moment, as if the outside world had ceased to exist.

We spent a peaceful Sunday. Tristan ordered Korean food for brunch, probably guessing that I hadn't eaten anything the day before.

The meal took place in relatively comfortable silence, and we spent the rest of the day lying down, enjoying each other's presence.

He made love to me with an almost desperate tenderness.

Out of cowardice, neither of us mentioned the necklace again.

Because, even if Tristan chose me, I knew that his emotional state remained confused, that his attraction to Audrey had not disappeared despite his efforts to remain faithful to me.

I didn't want him to lie to reassure me.

I wanted to give him time to come back to me.

Monday morning, I was surprised to see him still at home when I got up for breakfast. He took the time to hug me for a long time and breathe in my scent before kissing me on the lips.

"Shall I make you coffee?" he suggested, with a smile in his voice.

"Yes, please. Aren't you going to train with Satoshi?"

"No, I told him. He cursed me because I'm leaving him alone with the coach."

I snickered, briefly rediscovering our former complicity.

"He's definitely not going to forget it!"

After breakfast, taken in a comfortable but fragile silence, I took my shower and got dressed. Tristan was waiting for me in the living room.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his gaze sliding over my dress that gracefully embraced my figure.

I smiled and kissed him possessively, immediately provoking his desire, before stepping out onto the landing and escaping into the elevator, bursting out laughing.

He joined me before the doors closed and took advantage of the descent to devour my mouth.

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, we were both breathless.

We went to the office in separate cars, each with our own driver.

This physical distance, imposed by our choice to keep our relationship secret, weighed on me more and more.

But I no longer dared to talk to him about it since the time he had dodged my request to make our relationship official at the office.

The pain I had felt that day remained like a poorly healed wound.

Mid-morning, the door to my office opened abruptly, and Audrey entered.

"Eva, where did you put the Hope Foundation file?" she asked, with the arrogant tone she reserved only for me.

"Why does that concern you?"

"Tristan wants me to handle the foundation partnership, and I have an important meeting with Epsilon Ventures. I also wanted to see the whole project before finalizing the inauguration speech."

It took me three seconds to fully grasp what she had just said. No, it was impossible. He would never have done that to me. Not him. Not Tristan!

"Stop making things up," I replied, clinging to my certainty. "Tristan would never do such a thing. This project is mine."

"You think you know him so well, don't you?"

Her voice dripped with condescension.

"You can check with him if you want. And when you've done that, send me all the elements by email."

She left, leaving me with a feeling of vertigo. The Hope Foundation... My dream, my project, the embodiment of everything I believed in. How dare she interfere? How dare he let her?

I moved toward his office, each step fueling my anger and disappointment. His face lit up when he saw me, before freezing at my expression.

"Can you explain what you're doing, Tristan?"

My voice trembled with contained rage.

"Why is Audrey telling me she's going to handle the foundation? How could you do this to me?"

I saw him crumble, searching for words, avoiding my gaze before returning to it. His nervous hand running through his hair confirmed my worst fears.

"Listen, I know it's your project, but... I saw how overwhelmed you were. I thought Audrey could help you."

Each word was like a stab. This wasn't a simple error in judgment; it was a betrayal.

"Even though you know what this project means to me? You impose her on me without even consulting me?"

"Listen, she's just there to help you. She's spent a lot of time on it, just look at what she's done. I promised her, I wouldn't want to disappoint her."

Disappoint her? Those words hit me like a slap.

"No, of course not, you'd rather disappoint me."

He flinched under the violence of my remark.

"Eva, don't take things that way," he pleaded, not realizing he was digging himself deeper. "Audrey is very competent. I know that, because of me, you don't have a good opinion of her, but I swear you have nothing more to fear. Just give her a chance. She just wants to suggest ideas."

I looked at him, amazed by his blindness. This project was my dream. I wanted to offer disadvantaged young people the chance I would have liked to have. And he, without the slightest hesitation, imposed Audrey on me, that ambitious bitch who saw in the foundation just one more opportunity to seize.

"You care about her that much?" I asked, my voice breaking on these words.

His eyes widened, filled with a panic that spoke volumes.

"It's not what you think," he tried to deny awkwardly.

"Yes, it's exactly what I think. How can you impose this manipulator on me? I never thought I'd say this to you, but you really disappoint me, Tristan."

He turned pale under the violence of my words, unable to retaliate. He wavered, but it brought me no satisfaction. I was too stunned, as if a truck had hit me head-on. Without another word, I left his office, my heart in tatters.

I was suffocating. I needed air. Without even thinking, I called Marco. He immediately understood from my voice that something was wrong. Fifteen minutes later, we were driving to Versailles, the silence in the car only disturbed by my still ragged breathing.

The park was peaceful, almost empty at this hour. For more than an hour, I walked aimlessly, letting nature gradually calm the chaos in my mind. Marco followed at a respectful distance, a discreet and reassuring presence.

I had never felt so lost. The love I had for Tristan was so deeply anchored in me that the very idea of losing him made me dizzy. But how to fight against the evidence? How to ignore those looks he gave Audrey, the way he protected her, even at the expense of my feelings?

Returning to the car, the world suddenly tilted. My legs gave way beneath me, and without Marco's quickness, I would have collapsed.

"Eva, are you all right?"

His voice betrayed genuine concern.

"Yes, everything's fine, it's passed."

In the car, his gaze in the rearview mirror didn't leave me.

"I'm not your father, but you should see a doctor."

His tone allowed no reply. I attempted a reassuring smile.

"It's just fatigue, nothing a good night's sleep can't solve."

"In that case, go home now to rest."

Weariness was overwhelming me. I no longer had the strength to protest. I called Maud to inform her of my absence and ask her to notify Tristan.

"He's in a meeting with Audrey; I'll tell him as soon as they're finished."

I nodded, in a second state, and hung up. Of course he was with her.

As soon as I got home, I collapsed on the couch and fell into a restless sleep. It was Tristan's arms that woke me, lifting me with a delicacy that hurt my heart. He carried me to our bed, his gestures imbued with an almost painful tenderness as he undressed me and pulled the sheets over me.

"I'm sorry, Eva. I know I hurt you," he said in a voice laden with remorse. "I don't know how, but I'll fix things."

These words, which should have comforted me, hurt me even more.

How could he claim to fix anything when he refused to face the truth?

From the beginning, Audrey had been manipulating him with formidable skill, and he, blinded, fell into each of her traps.

First the Australian subsidiary project, which she had so cleverly appropriated.

Then this expensive necklace, which she had obtained by playing the forgetful ingenue.

And now, she was interfering in a project I had worked on for months.

What words had she whispered to Tristan to betray me like this?

How had she managed to convince him, he who is usually so loyal?

This thought tortured me more than anything: the upright and faithful man I loved was transforming into someone I no longer recognized.

The night was an endless parade of nightmares where Tristan left me, each awakening more painful than the last. Drenched in sweat, the same question haunted me, increasingly insistent: when does one need the courage to give up?

At what point must one accept that love is no longer enough, that some wounds are too deep to heal?