Page 78 of The Billionaire's Betrayal
47.What had I done?
TRISTAN
I woke slowly, a violent hangover drilling into my skull.Memories returned brutally, accompanied by devastating nausea and pounding in my temples.I was naked, stretched out on the couch, my clothes scattered throughout the living room.An icy terror invaded me.
My God, what had I done?
Flashes of Audrey imposed themselves, relentless.Her hands and lips on me, her fingers undoing my clothes...No...no!Impossible!I couldn't have...I shook my head forcefully, but the images continued: her body leaning over mine, and me, powerless, letting her...
No, this isn't real.It can't be real!
My heart was beating so hard it threatened to explode, icy sweat streaming down my spine.Each attempt to reconstruct the evening hit a wall of opaque fog.How had I ended up there?A feeling of betrayal toward Eva overwhelmed me, so violent it made me nauseous.My mouth was dry, my hands trembling like leaves, my stomach twisted with anguish.I couldn't breathe, trapped between horror and guilt.
A terrible presentiment crossed my mind.With trembling fingers, I searched for my phone.It was there, on the coffee table, exactly where I had placed it the night before...But when I finally grabbed it, what I discovered on the screen petrified me.
A photo.
Me, naked, on the couch, Audrey, also naked, nestled against me, a triumphant smile on her lips.And the message had been sent to...Eva.
My blood froze in my veins.
No, no, no!
My stomach revolted as I stared, horrified, at the recipient's name.
Eva.
Panic surged through me like a devastating wave.My trembling fingers dialed her number.One ring...two...silence.Nothing.I called again, over and over, each unanswered ring chilling my blood a little more.My entire body rebelled, paralyzed by visceral terror.
I rose staggering, picked up my scattered clothes and dressed as best I could despite my hands refusing to obey me.I grabbed my keys and ran down the stairs like a madman.I had to see her, talk to her, make her understand.
She has to listen to me!
I rushed into my car and started it up frantically, my mind overwhelmed by a torrent of chaotic thoughts.The fine rain that began to fall transformed the streets of Paris into a treacherous mirror.The cobblestones glistened under the headlights, the city diluting into a kaleidoscope of drowned lights.
A single thought pounded in my skull: Eva.I had to reach Eva.
In a tight turn, the tires suddenly lost their grip on the wet road.A strident screech tore through the night.The car went into a spin, uncontrollable.I fought against the steering wheel, but the vehicle refused to obey me.The rotation accelerated and the impact against the concrete bollard was incredibly violent.My head violently hit the door frame, exploding my vision into a constellation of blinding stars.
The airbag deployed with a deafening crash, hitting my chest like a battering ram.Breath cut off, my neck jerked backward, a searing pain radiating through my skull.The world tilted when the car completed its course against the lamppost.The second impact was even more devastating.Pain invaded every fiber of my body.My vision fragmented, then darkness engulfed me entirely.
48.An...an accident?
EVA
Leila had offered us an enchanted interlude at a luxurious spa in Normandy, an hour from Paris.Upon arrival, the hushed atmosphere enveloped us like a cocoon, the scents of lavender and sandalwood instantly soothing our troubled minds.
The ritual began with a perfumed bath where lavender and chamomile flowers danced on the surface of the steaming water.We slipped into the beneficial warmth, letting our muscles relax one by one.Leila sighed with well-being, her shoulders finally dropping.Our light chatter floated in the air like petals on water, gently releasing the tensions of recent days.
The massages that followed were pure moments of grace.Two practitioners with expert hands took care of us, Leila opting for hot stones, me for essential oils.Under perfectly measured pressures, each knot of tension unwound, carrying away the stress of recent days.
By evening, we found ourselves at Leila's for a cozy night in.In comfortable pajamas, nestled in a nest of cushions and blankets, we were surrounded by our favorite comforts: our favorite films, favorite dishes, and a box of macarons waiting just for us.
While helping her move the coffee table, my eye caught an incongruous detail: an old edition of Asimov's Foundation.I smiled inwardly: Leila hated science fiction.
"Leila, Satoshi forgot his book.Don't forget to return it to him Monday."
She froze before letting out a curse, realizing she had just given herself away.
