Page 33 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

EVA

Standing in front of the living room window, Tristan turned around when I arrived, a half-smile stretching his features.

He wore a white T-shirt that hugged his shoulders and athletic chest, along with dark, fitted jeans.

His beauty hurt me. He came forward, took me in his arms, and kissed my temple to say hello.

I let him do it without protest, my body as rigid as a statue.

I was in a state of shock, as if I were observing the scene from the outside, a helpless spectator to my own life falling apart.

"I'm going to put my things in the bedroom and I'll be right back," I murmured without looking at him, unable to meet his eyes.

When I returned, he offered me a hot drink, which I declined, preferring a simple glass of water.

He served us both, and we sat around the coffee table, him on the couch and me in an armchair.

He took the time to ask about my trip, although his agitation was palpable.

He seemed uncomfortable, unsure of himself, in total contrast to the image of a CEO who signed contracts worth millions of euros.

His eyes, fixed on me, were worried and uncertain. Finally, he spilled it out.

"I have something important to tell you," he said in a gentle voice, as if addressing an injured animal. "I would like you to let me speak without interrupting, and then I'll answer all your questions."

My heart tightened, and I wrapped my arms around myself in a futile gesture of protection. I wasn't ready for what was to come.

"I don't know where to start... it concerns Audrey," he continued.

My heart sank at his words.

"At first, I admired her as one admires a very competent colleague," he explained.

"Until the day she made me understand that she liked me.

I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you would ask me to separate from her, and I thought her attraction to me would disappear with time.

Then, without realizing it, I began to think about her more and more often.

I enjoyed our moments together, complicit, uncomplicated. It intoxicated me, I think."

I understood what he wasn't telling me. Our relationship had become complicated. He needed the simplicity of a budding love.

"Without realizing it, I succumbed to the attraction.

At first, I tried to deny it, then to convince myself I could control it.

But I was wrong. When I gave in for the Australian subsidiary, the necklace, Project Hope.

.. I was already not thinking clearly. The novelty, the thrill of the forbidden, the excitement. .. all of it intoxicated me."

He lowered his eyes, visibly ashamed.

"I ask for your forgiveness. I should have acted sooner, put an end to all this before it got out of hand.

But it's over now. It's you I choose. That's why I've decided to separate from Audrey.

Starting in January, she'll be reassigned to other projects, and I'll make sure I no longer have direct contact with her. "

A silence settled, heavy, suffocating. Then the truth hit me full force.

"You have feelings for her," I breathed, my heart broken.

"I don't know... and it doesn't matter, because it's you I choose," he replied quickly.

"Of course it matters! After all, you considered leaving me for her."

"No!" he protested. "How can you think that?

I... For a long time, I refused to admit this attraction.

I thought I could control it. Yes, I lost my head for a few days, but it's you I want.

Our relationship was going through a difficult period, with these constant arguments, this distance. .. I was suffocating sometimes."

"So rather than talking about it, looking for solutions together, you preferred to take refuge in another woman's arms?"

"Nothing happened between us. I didn't sleep with her."

I stared at him, incredulous.

"You didn't sleep with her?" I repeated, my voice trembling.

"No, of course not! How can you imagine that!" he exclaimed, indignant.

I found it hard to believe him. The image of Audrey naked in his office haunted me, making his denials difficult to accept. A bitter laugh escaped me.

"What a bitch!"

"Stop! Don't talk about Audrey like that!" he suddenly flared up, his face flushed. "You don't know her! She is..."

Anger rose in me like a devastating wave, uncontrollable. My hands were shaking so hard that I had to clench them into fists to hide their agitation.

"Loyal? Dedicated?" I cut him off. "No, Tristan.

The only thing she's dedicated to is the methodical destruction of our relationship.

And the worst part is that you don't even see it.

You're so blinded by her artifices that you don't even realize she's manipulating you, and you continue to defend her against me.

Don't you see how much you're hurting me? "

A traitorous tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away angrily with the back of my hand, furious at my own weakness. The fact that he defended Audrey against me broke me more than anything else. I looked at him, my throat knotted with sobs I refused to let escape, rage rising in me like a storm.

"Tell me, Tristan, do you think your precious Audrey would still be so attracted to you if you weren't the CEO of a multinational company?"

My voice was as sharp as a blade.

"Do you think she would have shown the same determination to seduce you if you had neither power nor fortune? Or... do you really believe she loves you sincerely? That she finds you... wonderful?"

His gaze instantly hardened, a flash of anger briefly shining in it. This blind loyalty to her made me sick.

"She's not like that!" he protested. "You don't know her."

"But you know her well, don't you?" I retorted, my voice trembling with contained rage. "Very intimately, even..."

He opened his mouth, but I didn't give him time to deny.

"Tell me, Tristan, when did you make love to her for the first time? Was it in New York? Or... yesterday, in your office?"

His face fell. His eyes widened in horror as he understood. I saw him turn pale suddenly, as if all his blood had just left him at once, while my tears, those traitors, still flowed for a man who didn't deserve them.

"Eva... I don't know what you saw, but I swear I pushed her away," he pleaded, his voice hoarse.

I wanted to believe him. I would have given anything for it to be true. But how could I? Not when he was still defending her so ardently just seconds before.

"Please, Eva, believe me."

I let out a bitter, painful laugh.

"Why should I believe you? I stopped being your priority a long time ago... I was just too blind to see it."

"You're wrong, Eva." He ran a trembling hand through his hair. "It's true that I was lost and that my choices might make you doubt me, but you are and will always be my priority."

Overwhelmed, he wanted to get up and approach me as if to console me, but he thought better of it.

The realization struck him: he had become the last person in the world capable of comforting me.

He clenched his fists, his body suddenly seeming too big, too awkward in the confined space of our living room.

"I beg you, Eva, don't cry," he murmured in a broken voice. "You know I can't stand to see you cry."

A bitter laugh escaped me, so close to a sob that the difference was almost imperceptible.

"Don't worry, I won't impose this spectacle on you anymore. Everything is over."

His eyes widened, as if my words had struck him in the face.

I saw panic invade his features as he realized that our story was ending here, in this living room that had witnessed so much love and now our end.

But what did he think? That I would stay there, a passive spectator, watching him build his new life with her?

That I would be content with the crumbs he would deign to leave me?

No. I wasn't that kind of woman. I had never been. I wanted all or nothing.

"It's over between us, Tristan," I repeated in a voice that no longer trembled.

His eyes misted over at this cruel truth. I could see he was suffering, I knew that a part of him still loved me, but I had my own pain to manage. I could no longer be the one who consoles, who understands, who forgives.

His lips began to tremble, and soon tears rolled down his cheeks. I looked away, refusing to see his pain, his belated regrets. He no longer had the right. It was he who had chosen to destroy everything, he who had broken us.

Suddenly, he stood up, approached me, and took my face in his hands.

His intense gaze, filled with distress, plunged into mine.

His mouth descended on mine in a kiss filled with love and despair.

I struggled, refusing to yield to his embrace that tore me apart inside, but he insisted, again and again, until, broken with grief, I lowered my defenses, collapsing.

His mouth deepened our kiss and devoured me as if the world was about to end.

Overwhelmed with love and pain, I returned his kiss with all the violence of my wounded soul.

Our kisses tasted of our tears and our despair.

I loved him! My God, I loved him so much!

I wanted everything from him, his kisses, his tenderness, his skin.

The tension between us electrified. My fingers slid into his hair.

Our bodies pressed against each other as if they never wanted to separate again.

Our embrace became feverish, our lips moaned with desire.

Without a word, he lifted me, my legs wrapped around his hips, and carried me to our bedroom.

He laid me on the bed and undressed me with a tenderness mixed with urgency.

When he was naked in turn, he took his place between my legs.

His mouth set out to discover my body, caressing me, loving me with a desperate intensity.

Our bodies united with passion, each thrust bearing the weight of our love and our despair. As pleasure overwhelmed us both, he whispered his love to me again and again, before collapsing against me, breathless.

That night, I showed him in every way I could how much I loved him.

Exhausted, we finally fell asleep, Tristan tightly wrapped around me.

He held me against him, as if he never wanted to let me go again, as if, once more, I was the center of his world, as if he was choosing me.

But I had no illusions. It was too late for us; this night was just a last gasp, a final period to our story.

I nestled against him to breathe in his scent one last time.