Page 57 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

EVA

Audrey's shadow was fading more and more, like a nightmare dissolving in the morning light. The more days passed, the more I realized the depth of Tristan's love. It was no longer just words or promises, but concrete actions that warmed my heart every day.

Every morning, he woke me with a tender kiss, sometimes followed by passionate sex and hot chocolate made exactly the way I liked it.

He had returned to full-time activity at Community Pilot, but he had made me his absolute priority, and it showed in every one of his gestures.

Despite his billionaire CEO schedule, he always found time in his packed day to grab coffee or have lunch with me.

These stolen moments between meetings had become my favorite times.

When he had to travel for work, he would call me as soon as he arrived at his destination. We would talk for hours, sharing the details of our respective days, laughing about everything and nothing, until one of us finally fell asleep on the phone. His voice had become my lullaby.

We had also spent a wonderful week in Australia, where the new subsidiary was now on track.

There, away from the Parisian stress, we had rediscovered the pleasure of simply being together.

Tristan had organized romantic dinners facing the ocean, and we walked hand in hand on the white sand beaches.

Those moments of pure connection reminded me why I had fallen in love with him.

As for our baby, he was doing wonderfully.

My pregnancy was blossoming peacefully, and seeing Tristan discover this new role as a father-to-be filled me with joy.

Every evening, he would place his hands on my still-flat belly and talk to our child in a gentle voice, telling him about his day and how much he already loved him.

These moments of family intimacy melted my heart.

"Our baby is going to have the most wonderful daddy," I would sometimes murmur while stroking his hair.

"And the most extraordinary mommy," he would reply, placing a kiss on my forehead.

I could feel my heart healing day by day. The scars were still there, but they no longer hurt. They were now part of our story, part of this difficult path that had led us to a stronger, deeper love.

I'm happy. Deeply, completely happy. Tristan makes me happy in a way I never thought possible after everything we've been through. And for the first time in a long while, I dared to believe that this ha ppiness was here to stay.

My heart was pounding. Tristan had warned me to clear my morning schedule, but he had been careful not to tell me anything more.

All this mystery awakened in me an excitement tinged with curiosity.

Since he had gotten better, he made it his mission to surprise me, transforming our daily life into a succession of magical moments.

An impromptu dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant, a private visit to the Louvre just for us, or a weekend in Venice.

Each time, he outdid himself and created unforgettable memories for us.

Today, Marco was waiting for us in front of our building, his eternal benevolent smile on his lips. With a discreet gesture, he opened the rear door of the black sedan.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, laughing as Tristan covered my eyes with a silky blindfold once we had settled into the back of the sedan. The fabric prevented me from seeing what surrounded me, but the reassuring warmth of his hand intertwined with mine was the only landmark I needed.

"Patience," he murmured, his voice vibrating with a promise that made my heart skip.

Soon, the car finally stopped. Attentive, Tristan helped me get out carefully. He made me climb a few steps, his arm around me, guiding each of my steps. I heard him turn a key in the lock, then the door opened with a slight creak, as if revealing a well-kept secret.

"Tristan... what have you been plotting now?" I murmured, intrigued.

He didn't answer, content to lead me gently, his hand sliding tenderly along my waist. We crossed what seemed to be several rooms, the air changing subtly around us. A light breeze suddenly caressed my face, accompanied by birdsong and the scent of jasmine.

"Are we outside?" I asked, surprised.

"Wait a little longer," Tristan murmured, guiding me onto what I guessed was a terrace.

I felt the ground change under my feet: stone slabs, then what felt like fresh grass. The May morning air was soft on my skin, filled with spring fragrances. Tristan stopped and positioned himself behind me, his arms wrapping around me tenderly.

"You can open your eyes now," he whispered against my ear while delicately undoing the blindfold.

What I discovered took my breath away. We were in an English garden, an oasis of greenery you could never imagine in the heart of Paris.

A majestic magnolia tree in bloom dominated the space, its pink petals dancing gently in the breeze.

Perennial flower beds bordered an impeccable lawn, and blooming wisteria cascaded along a wrought-iron pergola.

But it was when I turned around that the surprise hit me full force. A sumptuous four-story mansion stood before us, simply magnificent. A Haussmann-style residence with perfect proportions, its large windows reflecting the morning light.

I took a step forward, captivated. This house seemed to come straight out of my most secret dreams...

"Where are we?"

Tristan slipped behind me, his arms wrapping around me tenderly, his chin naturally finding its place on my shoulder. I felt his smile bloom against my skin even before he spoke the words that would change everything.

"Welcome home, Eva."

I turned abruptly toward him, my heart pounding.

"Home?" I repeated, incredulous. "You bought this mansion?"

He nodded, his smile widening at my astonishment.

"I searched for weeks with my mother's help to find you this gift: I wanted a place for us, for our family. This is our new home, Eva. The one where our baby will have space to run and play, and where we can build our most beautiful memories."

Tears welled up in my eyes, too many emotions rushing through me for me to speak.

Tristan must have sensed it because he took my hand and silently guided me toward the interior of the mansion.

When the door opened, I discovered a magnificent space bathed in light.

The majestic floor-to-ceiling windows created perfect continuity with the garden we had just left.

The light oak floors harmonized perfectly with the modern furniture with clean lines, while the walls, painted in warm tones of beige and off-white, created a sensation of infinite space.

In the center of the room, a spiral staircase rose like a sculpture, its elegant marble spiral drawing the eye to the upper floors.

He led me to the staircase, his hand guiding me at each step. Arriving at the second floor, he led me to double doors with delicate moldings.

"Close your eyes," he murmured against my ear.

I obeyed, shivering at the contact of his breath on my skin. I heard the doors open, then his hands on my shoulders gently guided me into the room.

"Now, open them."

I discovered a sumptuous master suite bathed in light.

The space was vast and elegant, with high ceilings adorned with period moldings.

The king-size bed faced a series of French doors offering a spectacular view of the garden below.

The interior was carpeted with fresh rose petals and adorned with immense bouquets of white and pink flowers.

And especially, in a corner of the suite, stood a remarkable copy of Rodin's "The Waltz," one of my favorite sculptures.

The space breathed softness and serenity, but also a refined luxury that took my breath away.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I turned toward Tristan. His gaze shone with love and pride at my reaction.

"Do you remember when I told you I would buy you a bigger house?" he murmured, caressing my cheek. "Here is our home, Eva. Our real house."

I slipped my arms around his neck, pressing against him despite my rounding belly.

"Do you know what I want right now?" I murmured, a mischievous smile on my lips.

"Tell me," he replied, his voice becoming deeper.

"I want us to christen our master suite... properly."

He burst out laughing and I pulled him toward me for a passionate kiss that left no doubt about my intentions. His arms tightened around my waist as he responded to my kiss with ardor.

Tristan's thoughtfulness continued to amaze me. With every detail thought of for me, with every surprise organized with love, I fell even more in love with him.