Page 45 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

EVA

Marco dropped me off in front of one of Paris’s most prestigious addresses, a restaurant renowned for its exceptional cuisine and breathtaking views of Notre-Dame.

Tristan had chosen a table tucked away in an alcove, hidden from the curious gazes of other diners.

That evening, dressed in a charcoal-gray bespoke suit that accentuated his athletic build, he was devastatingly elegant.

His face lit up the moment he saw me, and his smile sent my heart into freefall.

Rising with effortless grace, he pulled out my chair in a gesture of refined chivalry.

The flickering candlelight bathed the room in an intimate glow, casting a scene straight out of a fairy tale.

But I no longer believed in fairy tales. Ours had shattered the moment he let Audrey come between us.

A wave of bitter thoughts surged through me, and I couldn’t help but wonder—had he put on this same grand display for Audrey?

“No, Eva,” he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. “Don’t go there.”

I wished I could erase the betrayal and the pain with a simple wave of my hand, but they were there, tangible, sitting between us like an unwelcome guest. Tristan understood that, and eventually, he sighed in resignation.

“Alright. You deserve the truth. The whole truth.”

The waiter arrived just then to take our orders. When he left, Tristan locked eyes with me, his gaze unwavering.

“You know my parents’ story. The fiery passion at the start, then the slow descent into hell.

The routines, the compromises, the betrayals.

.. everything that ultimately killed their love.

” He paused, his features drawn tight. “I was twelve when my mother first told me that love never lasts. She repeated it like a mantra through every argument, every mistress my father took.”

I watched him, my heart aching as I suddenly grasped the poison that had seeped into his mind as a child.

“Everything escalated with the pressure at work. I was losing my grip, and Audrey...” He shook his head, disgusted.

“I didn’t see her manipulation, her game.

I resented you for trying to push her away.

I prioritized my career over us. Then came our fights, the silences, the things left unsaid.

I felt trapped, and that’s when the ghost of my parents’ toxic relationship came back to haunt me.

My mother’s bitter words resurfaced, and the fear that our love would become a prison made me lose my mind. ”

His trembling hand reached for mine on the table.

“Instead of fighting for us, I shut down. Anger blinded me, and I...” He swallowed hard. “I wanted to escape our reality. Audrey was an easy way out. Yes, I was drawn to her beauty, but more than anything, I was chasing the illusion of freedom I thought I had lost.”

I turned my gaze to the Seine, its dark waters reflecting the golden city lights like broken promises.

“It was all a mirage, Eva. A shallow attraction born from my own demons, my deepest fears. In my blindness, I didn’t realize she was using me as a weapon to hurt you, to destroy us.

But I swear to you, on everything I hold dear—I never touched her.

Never kissed her. Not even at the height of it all. ”

“I wasn’t enough,” I whispered, my throat tightening.

“No!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with conviction. “You are the only one who ever mattered. The only one I need. I just...”

He searched for the right words.

“I took your love for granted, as if it didn’t require effort.”

His voice softened, thick with raw emotion.

“It was our last night together when I finally understood. Love isn’t a given—it’s a choice. The choice to pick the same person, day after day, despite the doubts and obstacles. The choice to build something together and protect it, no matter what.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Forgive me, Eva. Forgive my weakness, my cowardice, my lack of faith in us. I know nothing can justify what I did, but now that I understand how I pushed us to the edge, I swear I will never let my fears destroy us again. If you give me a second chance, I will spend every single day proving my love and making you my priority.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and Tristan reached out, brushing it away gently, his gaze tortured with remorse.

Just then, the waiter returned, setting down our appetizers before quietly slipping away.

I lowered my eyes to my plate, an artfully arranged dish of roasted lobster drizzled in a velvety sauce.

We ate in silence, giving me time to process everything he had just confessed.

Was I ready to forgive him? Maybe. But forgetting was impossible. I understood his reasons, yet he had hurt me in ways I wasn’t sure I could ever trust him again. And without trust, there could be no real relationship. Without it, we would only destroy each other all over again.

After dinner, Tristan led me to the banks of the Seine, where a luxurious yacht awaited for a private cruise under the stars. He ordered champagne on board, but I declined. Though he was disappointed, he tried to hide it as we settled comfortably on the deck.

The yacht glided smoothly along the Seine, offering a breathtaking view of Paris’s illuminated landmarks. The atmosphere was both magical and intimate, accompanied by the gentle lapping of the water and the distant hum of the city.

Tristan, absorbed in the beauty around us, held my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. I took a deep breath, my gaze fixed on the golden reflections shimmering on the water.

“There’s something important I need to tell you,” I began, my voice trembling with emotion. “And I’m not sure how to say it.”

He turned to me, his blue eyes darkening with concern.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

I hesitated for a brief second, then let the words escape.

“I’m pregnant.”

Shock flickered across his face before quickly transforming into awe, and then into a pure, uncontainable joy that wiped away every last hesitation. He pulled me into his arms, holding me close with a tenderness that made my breath catch.

“A baby! We’re having a baby!” he exclaimed, his eyes shining with happiness.

His excitement was infectious, and I felt the knot in my stomach loosen.

“But how? When?” he asked, still reeling.

I couldn’t help but smile at his astonishment.

“How? I think you already know,” I teased with a soft laugh. “As for when—it’s been a month.”

He mentally replayed the last few weeks, his eyes widening as the realization hit him.

“Your fatigue, the migraines...” he murmured, the puzzle pieces falling into place.

“Hormonal shifts,” I explained.

His joyful smile faded abruptly as he grasped the cruel irony of it all.

It was precisely during this time that he had let himself be tempted by another.

A heavy silence settled between us, thick with regret and unspoken pain.

I could have softened the blow, reassured him that he hadn’t known what I was going through—but I wasn’t feeling generous.

He had abandoned me when I had needed him the most, at my most vulnerable.

His expression hardened suddenly, and he took my hands in his, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I have no excuse for what I did,” he said, his voice filled with remorse yet unwavering.

“All I can do is make you a promise: it will never happen again.

Y es, it will take time to heal your wounds and solve all our problems, but we'll become that happy couple we once were.

It can't be any other way. I'll take whatever time needed to regain your trust and love, and we'll form a family—the three of us. I won't give up on you. Ever. ”

He squeezed my hands with fierce determination, his eyes shining with a sincerity that disarmed me.

"And when you fully accept me back into your life, I want our relationship out in the open. Never again will I hide you like a shameful secret. I want the whole world to know we're together."

His declaration resonated within me, awakening emotions I thought buried. Despite the sting of his betrayal, his words full of hope and promises were cracking the wall of resentment I had built.

The yacht cut through the Seine's waters, rocked by the shimmer of lights dancing on the surface.

When we docked, Tristan guided me to his car where Lorenzo waited, his hand resting in the small of my back with an almost painful delicacy. Before opening the door for me, he paused, his eyes searching mine with a vulnerability I hadn't seen in him before.

"Are you coming home tonight?" he whispered, his voice wavering between hope and apprehension.

I attempted a smile, hiding as best I could the turmoil within me.

"I need time. A little distance will do us good," I replied, weighing each word.

He took the blow without flinching, but I saw his mask crack for an instant.

"I understand," he said simply, sadness transparent in his voice.

He opened the door in silence.

"Get in. We'll drop you at your hotel."

I settled into the car after greeting Lorenzo. Tristan sat beside me, and the car slipped silently into the illuminated streets of the capital.

In front of the hotel, he turned to me one last time.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked, hope piercing in his voice.

"Not tomorrow. I'm spending the day and evening with Leila. But I'll be at the office Monday. If you want, we could have dinner together."

He nodded softly.

"I'll pick you up at seven," he whispered. "Take care of yourself."

"You too," I breathed before leaving the car.