The black limousine glided smoothly through the evening streets of Paris, its engine purring softly beneath the soothing strains of jazz. The city lights flickered across the tinted windows, casting fleeting golden reflections inside the car.
Anaïs had a deep love for jazz—she always claid it was music for the body, while classical music was for the soul. And as she aged, she often said, it was the body that needed nourishnt the most.
Anna didn’t mind the music at all. In fact, after nearly a year in Mada Garrel’s company, she had grown so accustod to it that she could hardly go a day without hearing at least a few lodies to lift her spirits.
Tonight, the velvety notes of the saxophone drifting through the cabin were the only thing keeping her nerves in check.
Across from her, Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers loosening his tie as he ran a hand through his tousled curls. His gaze lingered on Anna, admiration written all over his face. His cheeks were flushed—a telltale sign of his shy nature—and he looked as though he was struggling to find the right words.
His grandmother noticed, her lips curling into an amused smile before she playfully slapped his knee.
"Ouch! What was that for?" Gabriel protested, rubbing the spot as he shot her a wounded look.
"Stop staring, Gabriel! It’s impolite," Anaïs chided, though there was unmistakable mischief in her eyes as she glanced at Anna.
Anna blushed, her lips parting in a small, embarrassed smile.
"I can’t help it!" Gabriel declared, his words aid more at Anna than his grandmother. "She looks absolutely stunning tonight—and yet, I’m not the one escorting her!"
"Chloe already has an escort," Anaïs frowned, though there was no real disapproval in her expression. "And you, my dear grandson, are escorting ! Or did you expect to walk in alone? That would be absolutely humiliating!"
She gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest, while Gabriel groaned and slumped further into his seat, letting out a long, weary sigh.
"Straighten up!" His grandmother delivered a light slap to his shoulder. "We’re almost there."
She was right. As soon as Anna turned her gaze back to the window, the grand auction venue ca into view, its façade shimring under the glow of hundreds of tiny lights. It looked like a beacon in the night, guiding its well-dressed guests toward an evening of wealth and extravagance.
According to the invitation, the event was being held in an exclusive art gallery, transford for the occasion with elegant décor and ticulous arrangents befitting a high-profile charity auction.
The limousine slowed to a halt at the entrance, and Anna instinctively reached for the door handle—but stopped herself just in ti. Instead, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited. She wasn’t supposed to open the door.
She never liked this ritual. Even when she had been married to Robert, she had always opened the car door herself, never expecting anyone to do it for her.
At least, her ex-husband had made her believe that was how it should be.
But now, she was Chloe Dumas. A woman who never lifted a finger for such things. A woman who expected doors to be opened for her.
As the door swung open, she inhaled, preparing herself for the night ahead—only to find herself montarily stunned.
"William!" she gasped, startled to see him standing there. "What are you doing here? I thought you’d be waiting for inside."
William placed her hand atop his forearm, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her cheek. "I thought you’d be used to my little surprises by now," he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk.
Anna only blushed in response. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to him.
"You look very handso," she said, her vision finally sharpening enough to take in the man walking beside her. "This is the first ti I’ve seen you wear a tux."
For the briefest mont, sothing unreadable flickered across William’s face—sothing almost dark—but he quickly masked it with a small, composed smile. Clearing his throat, he replied smoothly, "You look stunning too. Aren’t you glad I insisted on this dress?"
A fresh wave of heat rose to Anna’s cheeks, her entire body warming as mories of that night resurfaced in vivid detail.
They had barely spent any ti actually choosing a dress. If anything, she had spent more ti undressed than dressed. But William had been right—the long, erald-green silk clung to her body in all the right places, accentuating the soft curves of her waist and hips. Paired with her golden waves and striking blue eyes, it made her look effortlessly elegant.
They walked toward the entrance in silence, offering polite, fleeting smiles to the other guests arriving at the venue. While William moved with his usual ease, exuding an air of casual confidence, Anna felt each step like a weight pressing down on her. Every muscle in her body was taut, her anxiety manifesting in rigid movents.
"Relax," William murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. His hand slid down the open back of her dress, a slow, deliberate touch ant to steady her. "Just stick to the plan, and everything will be fine. I’ll be by your side as often as I can."
He traced his fingers slowly down the curve of her spine, and Anna instantly regretted not choosing a looser hairstyle. If her thick waves had cascaded down her back, they might have at least concealed William’s shaless actions from prying eyes.
As if sensing her thoughts, he shifted their hands, intertwining his fingers with hers before bringing them to his lips. His mouth brushed against her knuckles in another featherlight kiss, sending a sharp jolt through her body. A knowing grin tugged at his lips.
"Stick to your role," he reminded her in a low murmur. "They have to believe us."
Anna swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest. He was right. No matter what, they had to be convincing.
Taking a slow, steadying breath, she squared her shoulders, her fingers tightening slightly around his. "They will," she whispered.
***
The gallery was alive with soft, lilting strings and the gentle hum of conversation. The golden glow of chandeliers reflected off polished floors, casting an air of elegance over the evening.
As Anna’s gaze swept across the room, she found many familiar faces among the guests. After months under Mrs. Garrel’s wing, she had been introduced to a significant portion of Parisian high society, and now, their brief nods and polite smiles felt almost routine.
She returned each greeting with practiced poise, mirroring their expressions flawlessly.
"We’ll need to mingle for a bit," William whispered as he plucked two champagne flutes from a passing tray, handing one to her. "Make sure to show your expertise, and don’t forget about your painting."
"Understood," Anna replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she lifted the glass to her lips, using the movent to mask her words.
William’s expression shifted, his lips curving into a smooth, charming smile as he suddenly straightened. His voice took on a warm, welcoming tone—one she had co to recognize as his social persona.
"And here cos our first test subject," he noted before stepping forward.
"Mrs. Bastien! Long ti no see!"
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