Page 65 of Johan.

But I’m stubborn and insist, “That's why I need your help.”

“The only help I can give you is telling you the consequences of avoiding your duties as a fiancé,” Conrad says, his voice tinged with frustration.

I chuckle, feeling cornered. “I know the risks. But if I stay, I'm compromising everything I believe in.”

Conrad sighs, shaking his head. “You're playing with fire, Johan.”

“I know," I admit, exhaling a plume of smoke. “But I have to find a way out that doesn't destroy Hannah or me.”

Conrad leans back, studying me. “I'll do what I can, but you have to be smart about this.”

“Thank you,” I say, genuinely grateful.

As we sit in the cigar room, the smoke curling around us, I feel a semblance of calm. For now, I have an ally, but the night is far from over, and the challenges ahead are daunting. The rich leather armchairs, the low murmur of voices, and the distant strains of music from the main hall create a cocoon of temporary refuge. Yet, the weight of my situation looms, and I can't shake the feeling that this fragile peace could shatter at any moment.

After leaving the cigar room, we head back into the main hall. The party is in full swing, with guests mingling and laughter filling the air. Astrid spots me, a bright smile lighting up her face as she makes her way over.

“Johan!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around me and planting a kiss on my mouth. “Where were you hiding?”

I try to sound casual. “Just having a cigar with Conrad.”

Her eyes twinkle with curiosity as she holds my arm. “Now, shall we exchange our gifts?”

I nod, head over to the gift table to retrieve mine and hand her the wrapped book. I expect we’ll exchange gifts right here in the middle of the party, but Astrid laughs softly and leans in to whisper, “My gift is upstairs. Come.”

She takes my hand, leading me through the throng of guests and up the grand staircase. Each step makes me more nervous; I hate the thought of being alone with her in a private space. We pass elegantly dressed guests, their masks adding an air of mystery to the evening. The grand staircase is adorned with garlands and twinkling lights, each step creaking slightly under our weight.

We reach the top and cross a long, dimly lit corridor. The walls are lined with portraits of her ancestors, their eyes seeming to follow us with a watchful gaze. Antique mirrors reflect the flickering light from wall sconces, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The carpet beneath our feet muffles our steps, adding to the surreal quietness. My heart races with each stride, the proximity of Astrid's hand tightening around mine, heightening my sense of dread.

Astrid finally stops at a large, ornate door and pushes it open, revealing her bedroom. It’s lavishly decorated, the heavy curtains drawn shut, casting the room in a soft, intimate glow from the ornate lamps scattered around. For a moment, a wave of panic washes over me as I fear the gift might be Astrid herselfand that she’s going to start making out with me. I brace myself, my heart pounding. But fortunately, she goes to her dresser and picks up a wrapped box.

Astrid hands it to me with a smile. “Open mine first,” she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I unwrap the gift slowly, revealing an archaeologist’s toolkit.

“It's for your expedition in Oman, so when you're there, you'll think of me.”

“Thank you, Astrid,” I say, trying to muster enthusiasm. “It's perfect.”

She eagerly tears into the wrapping on her gift, her eyes widening as she sees the book. “It's a first edition and signed by the author herself,” I say, trying to sound just as romantic as she did. “A little something to keep you busy while I'm away.”

Astrid flips through the pages, intrigued. “What is it about?”

I didn’t bother to check, so I say briefly, “It's a bestselling novel. I don't really want to spoil it for you, but it's one of my favorite books.” I hope to distract her with this answer.

“Really? Then I'll read it,” she says, giving me another kiss.

I try to back out gently. “Shall we go back downstairs? The fireworks are about to start.”

Astrid keeps kissing me, her hands roaming around the hem of my pants. “We still have time for a quickie,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my cheek.

“Your makeup and hair are so beautiful, it's not worth ruining it now. We can do it afterward," I say, trying to divert her. But she starts focusing on my belt, unfastening it.

"What about the pictures? We haven't taken any," I add, desperate for any excuse as she then goes for the fly of my pants.

She finally stops, her eyes wide. "Oh gosh, you're right." She rushes into the bathroom, checking sherif in the mirror to adjust her chignon and makeup.

I sigh in relief, my heart still racing. When she returns, she takes my hand, her touch insistent. “Let's go down, take a few pics, and then watch the fireworks. But then…" She kisses me sensually on the lips. “Then we’ll have our first fuck of the year.”

We descend the stairs, the ambient noise of the party growing louder as we reach the bottom. Ludovic calls Astrid over, giving me a moment to slip away. I find Conrad quickly, grabbing his arm in a panic. “We need to give Astrid something.”

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