Page 38 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)
EVA
The sun was rising, and Tristan still hadn’t called me back. A wave of despair surged through me, as relentless as the tide. How had we ended up here? Despite what I’d told Steve, a part of me had still held on to hope—for us. But that was before. Before he cut off all communication.
I placed a hand on my stomach, where a tiny life was growing—a life I had so desperately wanted to share with him in joy.
I had hoped this news would be a beacon of light in the storm, something to hold onto.
But instead, everything was slipping through my fingers—my relationship, my job, my certainties.
My gaze drifted to the window, lost in the gray light of the London dawn. A whirlwind of unanswered questions filled my mind.
What will become of me if our relationship falls apart?
Could I keep working at Community Pilot if Tristan and I were no longer together? How would I face each day, knowing he didn’t love me anymore? How would I survive the pain of watching him build a life with Audrey?
No... That was unthinkable. He told me he loved me. He chose me.
But what if he changed his mind? What if all it took was a little distance for him to realize he could live without me—but not without her? After all, he had never made me any promises. There had never been any vows between us.
The thought of leaving Community Pilot crossed my mind again. Leaving. Creating distance. Maybe, away from everything we had built together, I could start over...
It would mean giving up the Espoir Foundation and everything we had built.
It would mean giving up the dreams I had for us.
By noon, wrapped in my coat, wool hat, and scarf, I sat at an outdoor café table, braving the biting cold.
The last thing I wanted was to be trapped in a confined space with Lazarus Rousseau.
Whatever he had to say, it wouldn’t be pleasant.
Men like him followed a scorched-earth policy, indifferent to the destruction they left in their wake.
I already regretted coming and was debating whether to leave when Lazarus stopped in front of my table.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Mercier,” he said, pulling out the chair across from mine and sitting down without waiting for an invitation. “Thank you for coming. If you don’t mind, I’ll get straight to the point. I’ve heard you left Community Pilot.”
I stiffened. Knowing I was in London was one thing, but claiming I had left the company? That was a whole different level of insider information. Someone inside Community Pilot had to be feeding him updates.
“And if that were true?” I asked, keeping my tone deliberately neutral, masking my growing irritation.
“Well, if you’re no longer involved in running the company, perhaps you’d be more... open to hearing what I have to offer,” he said, his tone falsely casual.
“I’m listening,” I replied, my voice like ice.
“I’d like to buy out your shares. What do you think?” he asked, feigning a studied indifference.
I froze. The audacity of this man was staggering.
“You want me to help you take control of the company, is that it?” I said through clenched teeth, barely containing my outrage.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he replied with a condescending laugh. “I’m not asking you to betray anyone. You’re leaving anyway—why not profit from it? We both know Community Pilot could expand much faster under a more... aggressive leadership.”
“Listen to me, Lazarus. We have never shared the same vision for Community Pilot,” I shot back, my voice vibrating with restrained fury.
“Even if I do leave—and that’s far from certain—I will never help you take control.
Whether I stay or not, it makes no difference.
You will never have my support. Not now. Not ever.”
His smile faltered slightly, and he sighed, as if my response was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but you leave me no choice,” he said, his voice laced with calculated nonchalance.
He slid a thick envelope across the table. Wary, I opened it and pulled out the contents. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the photographs.
Tristan and Audrey. Intimate. Close. At a restaurant. Walking down the street. Sharing a smile at a gala.
Lazarus knew. He knew everything.
Did he really think these pictures would break me? That they would push me to betray Tristan out of revenge? My gaze, cold as steel, locked onto his.
Without a word, I abruptly stood up and, in a defiant gesture, flung the photos back at him before turning on my heel.
I trembled with rage and pain as I walked away. Did this man really think he could break me so easily? He had no idea who I was—or what I was capable of.