Page 36 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

TRISTAN

I had just gotten out of the shower when the phone started ringing.

Eva!

I answered immediately, my hands trembling.

"Eva? Is that you?"

Only silence answered me. I pulled the phone away to double-check who was calling.

It was definitely her, no doubt about it.

With a heavy heart, I realized she was there, on the other end of the line, her throat tight, unable to speak.

I could almost hear her breathing. I had done this to her.

I had reduced this strong, vibrant woman to silence.

I felt her pain as if it were my own, and I hated myself for the suffering I was causing her.

"Eva, tell me you're okay," I begged in a low voice, like someone speaking to an injured animal they're afraid of scaring away.

Silence.

"Talk to me, darling, say something."

A muffled sob came through the line, stabbing my heart. That simple sound contained so much pain that my eyes filled with tears.

"Eva, if only you knew, I'm so sorry. I'm asking for your forgiveness... Come back, we need to..."

A sharp click. The call had just cut off, leaving me with my unfinished words, my incomplete apologies.

I stood there, motionless, the phone still pressed against my ear as if I could hold onto her that way, frozen in a mixture of shock and despair.

The water droplets from my shower were drying on my skin, making me shiver, but I didn't move.

My mind was spinning emptily, unable to form a coherent thought.

The echo of her sob still resonated in my head.

Then, a vibration broke the silence. A notification.

A text message appeared on the screen:

EVA : I'm fine.

A lie. Nevertheless, I was grateful that she was still communicating with me. As long as she hadn't cut all ties, as long as she kept this thin line of dialogue open, I still had a chance to win her back.

And when that happened, I would spend the rest of my life making sure she never had reason to doubt again. Never again would she have to hold back her sobs on the phone. Never again would she have to lie and say she was fine.

I pressed the phone against my chest, as if this simple gesture could bring me closer to her, bridge the distance between us, and finally let my own tears flow.

Monday morning, when I opened the door to my office, a feeling of guilt immediately washed over me.

These walls had been silent witnesses to my daily betrayal of the woman I loved.

It was here that I had let another woman intrude into my space, into my thoughts.

Here that I had almost given in to the attraction, letting myself be carried away by a fleeting desire.

Every detail of the room seemed to remind me of my mistakes: the echo of Audrey's presence in this place, the memory of those moments when I watched for her arrival, when I waited for her smile, when I sought her proximity.

These moments of weakness now made me nauseous.

How could I have let myself go like that, risking Eva's love for a few forbidden thrills?

Would Eva ever forgive me for desiring another woman? Nothing was certain, and this uncertainty was eating away at my soul. But I would fight for her, for us. I would regain her trust, even if it took years.

The sound of her silent sobs when she called me last night would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Where was she?

What was she doing?

I didn't know, and this uncertainty was gnawing at me.

When Audrey came to see me in the middle of the morning, I froze imperceptibly.

The last time I had seen her, she was naked in my office, her dress lying at her feet.

This memory now made me deeply uncomfortable.

What kind of woman imposed herself like that, uninvited?

I was aware that I had behaved ambiguously toward her, but things should never have gone so far.

Eva's questions came back to me, and for the first time, I allowed myself to look at Audrey differently, to question her past actions. An insidious thought began to form: why had she tried so hard to get the projects that Eva cherished?

"Why did you tell Eva about the necklace?" I asked, carefully observing her reaction.

If she was thrown off by my question, she recovered quickly.

"I didn't plan to tell her, she asked me about it," she replied hastily.

Her answer was anything but convincing.

Eva, who avoided Audrey like the plague, would have gone to ask her questions about a necklace she didn't know existed? Moreover, Eva's letter suggested a completely different story.

Increasingly specific suspicions began to form in my mind.

Our stay in New York came back to me: Audrey claiming to have forgotten the necklace that went with her dress.

This detail, trivial at the time, suddenly took on another dimension.

Had she manipulated me into giving her that gift?

And what if it was just part of a larger plan?

The more I thought about it, the more suspicious the events of the past few months seemed: her increasingly suggestive outfits, her requests for private advice, her personal confidences that created an artificial intimacy between us.

.. Nothing was left to chance. Each gesture, each situation now seemed to have been carefully calculated.

I looked at her again, and doubt settled in.

Was this seductive woman who had haunted my thoughts sincere, or was she just a talented manipulator?

A wave of nausea overcame me at the idea that I might have been the naive plaything of a cleverly orchestrated plan to destroy my relationship and have me under her control.

Audrey came by my office again in the early afternoon, using some excuse to linger.

Her presence, once enchanting, was beginning to annoy me.

Her charming smiles, her soft voice that had previously captivated me, now seemed too studied to be sincere.

Observing her more carefully, I noticed what I had ignored until then.

She was still strikingly beautiful, but this beauty now seemed manufactured.

Her outfit, much too sexy for a professional setting, her expertly applied makeup and her deliberately seductive attitude with the men around her were all signs of a perfectly orchestrated performance.

I found myself thinking back to Eva's words to describe Audrey: "that manipulator. " What if she was right?

Audrey, perfectly aware of her power, used her beauty as a weapon to get what she wanted. And what did she want from me? Why was she interested in me? Was it really because she loved me as she claimed, or because I was the CEO of a multinational company?

Regardless, it was time to end this game. Definitively.

"Audrey, please sit down," I said, pointing to the chair across from my desk.

She settled in with her usual grace, but I detected a glimmer of concern in her eyes. I took a deep breath, determined to leave no room for ambiguity.

"What's going on?" she asked, her soft voice barely masking a hint of apprehension.

I stood up, walking to the bay window to stare at the horizon for a moment. Then, turning around, I fixed my gaze on hers.

"Audrey, what happened Friday must never happen again," I told her firmly. "What you did that night was unacceptable. Not only were you at the office, but you had no right to impose yourself like that."

"Stop playing innocent, Tristan. I saw how much you wanted me, how you devoured me with your eyes. Don't act like you didn't want to fuck me."

Had Eva seen that? My heart tightened at the thought.

"I'm a man, Audrey," I replied. "When a beautiful woman undresses in front of me, of course it affects me. But that doesn't mean I wanted it. Just because my body reacts doesn't mean I want to sleep with you."

"Lie to yourself as much as you want, if it eases your conscience," she whispered. "But I know what I saw."

"I don't care what you think. Keep your distance, as I'll keep mine," I replied. "Don't make me fire you. If necessary, I'll do it without the slightest hesitation."

It had been four days since Eva left. Four endless days when all I'd received was a silent call and a simple text assuring me she was okay.

I was spending New Year's Eve with Leila, Satoshi, and some friends, but the celebration without Eva had lost its flavor.

What did I care about champagne, tuxedos, evening gowns, music, and confetti? I had never felt so alone in a crowd.

TRISTAN: I wish you a very happy New Year, my darling. May it bring all your dreams to fruition. I love you.

EVA : Happy New Year to you too, Tristan.

I immediately tried to seize this opportunity to reconnect.

TRISTAN : What are you doing tonight?

But no other message came.

My mood was deteriorating inexorably, the void created by her absence seemed to grow hour by hour.

God, how I missed her! Her warm laughter that resonated in our home, her natural tenderness, the reassuring sensation of her body nestled against mine.

I even missed her damned mess! She had tidied everything before leaving, a final act of love or defiance, I didn't know, and now I bitterly regretted no longer seeing her things scattered around the living room.

I would have given anything for her to be there, to reclaim our rituals: going to bed early with her, letting her drag me out of the house on weekends to take me to the museum, even if I grumbled for show.

The hours passed with unbearable slowness. A wave of shame washed over me at the thought of my stay in New York with Audrey. I hadn't even taken the time to call Eva, too busy letting myself be intoxicated by an illusion. I had only sent her a text.

I continued to search for her, in vain. My call to her mother to wish her a happy New Year had provided no clues. Never had I felt so powerless. And this powerlessness was eating away at me, reminding me at every moment of the price of my mistakes.

At the office, I often caught Audrey's gaze on me, unreadable.

Her beauty, which had once intoxicated me, now left me indifferent.

Sometimes, a strange light crossed her eyes, almost triumphant.

She was rejoicing in Eva's absence, and this realization made me want to hate her.

And again, Eva's words came back to memory.

Had Audrey done everything to seduce me and break up my relationship?