Page 49 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

TRISTAN

I woke up slowly, my eyelids heavy, the white light of the hospital room momentarily blinding me. A dull pain radiated throughout my body, and each breath sent a sharp jolt through my ribs. My still foggy mind struggled to piece together the scattered fragments of my memories.

Suddenly, the horror of the situation came rushing back. Audrey, the photo, Eva!

"Eva..." I murmured as panic rose within me, triggering a series of frantic beeps from the monitoring equipment.

"Shh, easy, Tristan," said a soothing voice as a gentle hand rested on mine. "You had an accident, but you're going to be okay."

Eva, she was there. Turning my head slightly, I caught sight of her, seated in an uncomfortable chair, her features marked by worry and fatigue.

I wanted to talk to her, to explain about Audrey, but the words seemed to evade me. Each time I tried to organize my thoughts, my still-clouded mind refused to cooperate.

At that moment, the doctor entered, interrupting my attempts to speak. He approached with a file in hand, looking serious but kind.

"Good morning, I'm Dr. Lefevre," he began with a friendly smile. "I'd like to speak privately with my patient, please," he added with an apologetic look toward Eva.

"Eva is my partner. I want her to stay," I replied firmly, feeling panic wash over me at the thought of her leaving.

Eva placed her hand on mine, and I squeezed it, clinging to her desperately to keep from slipping away.

"Very well," the doctor nodded. "How are you feeling, Mr. de La Tour?"

"Like I've been beaten to a pulp," I tried to joke, but my voice was weak, barely more than a whisper.

Dr. Lefevre fixed his gaze on me, his somber look and grave expression ratcheting up my anxiety.

"You have a concussion and three broken ribs.

The ribs will heal with time and plenty of rest, but the concussion will take longer to heal.

Specifically, you'll experience frequent headaches, fatigue, and possibly difficulty concentrating for several weeks, perhaps months.

It's essential that you avoid all stress and rest as much as possible.

No screens, no intensive reading, and above all, no physical exertion. "

I absorbed the news, my thoughts already racing, evaluating the impact this would have on Community Pilot. The recovery would be long, and each day of absence weighed heavily on the company.

"That's not all. We found traces of drugs in your blood work."

"That's impossible! Tristan would never do such a thing!" Eva protested.

The doctor gave her a calm look.

"It was GHB," he specified gently. "It's a drug used in sexual assaults, often administered without the victim's knowledge."

I turned to Eva, shocked, the memory of the whiskey I'd shared with Audrey suddenly coming back to me. Everything fit together with brutal clarity.

"Audrey wanted to talk about the cyberattacks, so I let her in," I whispered, my throat tight. "She must have put something in my drink..."

Eva tightened her grip on my hand as understanding gradually dawned in her eyes.

"Did she...?" I asked, my voice barely more than a breath, terrified of what her answer might be.

The doctor seemed to understand my question and responded kindly.

"No, rest assured, there was no sexual intercourse. The nature of this drug prevents any physical reaction of that type in men and primarily causes loss of consciousness."

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or ashamed. Rage bubbled up inside me at the thought that Audrey might have undressed me while I was unconscious, that she might have put her hands on me and tried to defile me just for revenge—it made me sick.

Eva had warned me about her manipulative side, but I hadn't wanted to believe it, too blinded by her angelic smiles.

"What a bitch!" I swore under my breath, my entire body trembling with anger.

Dr. Lefevre didn't react to my outburst and continued in a professional tone.

"You'll need to stay in the hospital for a while to monitor your recovery," he explained. "We'll be here to support you, but it's essential to inform the police about what happened. This is a serious matter."

I closed my eyes, exhausted by the pain and shock.

"I'll talk to the police, doctor. Thank you for informing me."

Dr. Lefevre nodded, seeming satisfied, before leaving us alone. Eva remained silent, her fingers gently squeezing my hand, providing the comfort I so desperately needed.

"Audrey came to our place last night..." I finally sighed, breaking the painful silence.

"She claimed she wanted to talk about the cyberattacks against Community Pilot.

She asked for a drink, and then... everything became confusing.

I remember she wanted to blackmail me to get control of the Hope Foundation.

When I refused, she got angry, and... after that, it's blank. "

Eva listened, her lips pressed together, her eyes searching mine as if to pierce through to the truth. I squeezed her hand tighter.

"I promise you, Eva, it was only for Community Pilot. She said she had evidence against Aron Capital."

She blinked, fighting to hold back tears, but didn't look away.

"I believe you," she finally whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "It's just that... it was so painful."

I nodded. We were both still in shock, still dazed by what had just happened.

A light knock sounded at the door, and Leila discreetly entered the room, carrying a generous salad and a drink.

"Here, eat something," she said softly, offering it all to Eva.

Eva hesitated, looking at her lunch without much appetite.

"Think of the baby," Leila insisted.

Eva nodded and slowly nibbled at her meal.

Leila turned to me, her dark eyes filled with concern she was trying to mask.

I briefly told her my version of events, my voice trembling slightly during the most difficult parts.

Eva then spoke up, describing how Leila had been her beacon in the storm after the photo incident, preventing her from jumping to hasty conclusions.

Gratitude overwhelmed me, and I squeezed our friend's hand.

"Thank you for believing in me," I whispered, my throat tight. "For seeing beyond appearances."

The arrival of my parents and Lily broke this moment of intimacy. Their faces were marked with worry. My mother, usually so proud and reserved, embraced Eva without hesitation.

"Thank you for letting us know," she said, kissing her warmly. "Thank you for being there for him."

Eva was so shocked by my mother's attitude that I almost laughed. I saw her standing there, eyes wide, unable to hide her surprise.

Lily then approached and wrapped her arms around me without a word.

Her warmth immediately comforted me. When her body began to tremble slightly against mine, it took me a moment to understand.

Then, I realized she was crying silently, her discreet sobs shaking her frail body.

Moved, I held her tighter, sharing this silent moment.

Shortly after, my parents, forgetting their quarrels, joined us.

The next day, the police inspector came to the hospital to take my statement before sending a team to search our home.

On the living room coffee table, they found the glass I had drunk from that night, still abandoned there.

After a preliminary analysis, the presence of GHB in the remaining liquid was confirmed.

"Furthermore, we found fingerprints on the glass used by Ms. Desprez," the inspector specified when he returned the following day, consulting his notebook. "This clearly places Ms. Desprez at the scene when the drug was poured into your glass."

I frowned, a mixture of anger and perplexity washing over me.

"I don't understand why she didn't bother to clean my glass," I said. "It would have been so simple to rinse out the whiskey residue to erase the evidence."

The inspector nodded thoughtfully.

"In my opinion, she didn't worry about that because she just wanted to discredit you in your partner's eyes," he explained calmly.

"She thought no one, not even you, would question your responsibility.

In her mind, this setup was perfect: a drunk man, betraying his partner with another woman.

.. She never imagined for a moment that you might drive in that state, much less have an accident that would bring everything to light. "

It made sense.

"Without the accident, I would have assumed responsibility for what happened, convinced I had given in under the influence of alcohol."

The inspector nodded, his expression grave.

"Exactly. GHB is a powerful central nervous system depressant. Her goal was to make you look like the perfect culprit."