Just beyond the windows, a wide balcony offered an even better vantage point. It ca complete with a charming little garden, a few elegant tables, and comfortable chairs—perfect for quiet mornings or moonlit evenings. It was clear that no detail had been overlooked; everything one might need or want was already here.
The ceiling added another layer of charm, adorned with classic murals reminiscent of those found in historic European museums. Sunlight filtered in through sections of colored glass, casting soft, rainbow-hued light across the room. It gave the suite a dreamlike, almost ethereal atmosphere, like stepping into a scene from a fairytale.
"This place is amazing," Athena said, accepting the glass of champagne handed to her by the general manager, who had already offered one to Hera.
Hearing Athena’s heartfelt complint, the general manager smiled with pride. After all, this was the hotel’s most coveted suite—boasting the best view in the entire building. Perfectly situated, it offered a stunning vantage point of the Eiffel Tower without being too close to the hustle and bustle of the city. Guests could enjoy the beauty of Paris while remaining far enough from the noise, traffic, and fus to truly relax.
It was this rare balance of scenery, serenity, and impeccable service that made the hotel a top choice for travelers. Its reputation for privacy and warm hospitality ant it was always fully booked.
Hera silently sipped her champagne, her thoughts drifting to Leo. ’I wish I could see this with him,’ she mused.
The view was breathtaking—the city stretched out before them like a painting—but to Hera, it all seed just a little muted. Maybe it wasn’t the place that felt lacking, but the absence of the person she truly wanted to share it with. Surrounded by friends in a beautiful city, in a suite that radiated charm and elegance, everything should have felt magical.
Yet, while Athena and the others seed enchanted by the mont, Hera felt detached. Her heart and mind were elsewhere, wrapped around the thought of Leo and the longing to experience this with him by her side.
She took a deep breath, attempting to rein in her emotions and reorient her thoughts. As her gaze wandered, she noticed Minerva and Liz standing near the window—and only then did her eyes land on the Frenchman still lingering behind them.
"Oh! You’re still here?" Hera said, her voice casual but curious.
At her words, everyone turned to look. The Frenchman, caught off guard, scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile, clearly unsure if he should stay or excuse himself.
"Um... I was just worried you might really not find a room and run into trouble," the man explained in French, scratching his neck awkwardly. "I honestly thought you were bluffing when you said you’d booked the presidential suite—just so they wouldn’t mock or pressure you. But now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes... I’m honestly amazed."
He spoke earnestly, completely forgetting that Hera and the other woman had been speaking English earlier. In doing so, he inadvertently revealed that he understood English all along—exposing the fact that he had rely pretended not to when Alice was speaking.
Hera caught it instantly and decided there was no need to play along anymore. With a soft smile tugging at her lips, she replied fluently in French, "Oh? I see. Thank you for your concern. But it seems you forgot you were pretending not to understand English. That woman and I were speaking quite clearly in English earlier... and yet you understood everything and even followed us here out of worry?"
She chuckled—a warm, lodious sound that made the man’s heart skip a beat. It fluttered through him like butterfly wings brushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
When her words sank in, realization dawned on his face. His eyes widened in alarm, and he imdiately began to panic as he tried to explain himself.
"Um... Mon amour, please don’t misunderstand," he stamred, clearly flustered. "It’s just... I was annoyed with the kid earlier. She started crying the mont she saw holding the banner and ran up to like that. I was worried people would start judging , but I couldn’t just ignore her crying, right?"
"But at the sa ti, I can’t hold my tongue, and my sister always tells not to offend anyone. She says I should control my bluntness and harsh words, so I thought—since I couldn’t avoid it—I’d just pretend not to understand English. That way, she’d stop crying and leave alone. I didn’t want my sister to hear that I made soone cry when I hadn’t even done anything wrong."
He explained all of this in English, his tone filled with a sense of being wronged, as if he had no other choice but to resort to these tactics.
Hearing this, Athena couldn’t help but burst into laughter again. She understood exactly what the man was feeling. Honestly, if it had been her, she would have preferred to avoid Alice entirely rather than to endure the constant barrage of tears that felt more like harassnt than anything else.
Minerva felt a wave of secondhand embarrassnt because of Alice. She could only imagine how awkward it must have been for the Frenchman, having to deal with soone like Alice when he didn’t even know her. It suddenly made sense why he panicked and resorted to a little deception.
And only now did Minerva start to truly see how strange Alice’s behavior was. She had spent so much ti around her that it all seed normal back then—she even used to pity her. But now, viewing it from the outside, she noticed things she’d been blind to before.
Biting her lower lip, Minerva recalled the countless monts she and Alice walked together, and how often Alice would cry before anyone even said anything. Back then, Minerva would imdiately jump to her defense, assuming Alice had been wronged. How foolish she’d been.
anwhile, Athena, delighted to find soone who shared her unspoken frustration with Alice, laughed warmly and felt an unexpected connection to the Frenchman. Swirling her champagne, she asked with a cheerful smile, "And what’s your na, sir?"
"Antoine," the man replied, stealing a few glances at Hera. He had just realized that she could understand and speak fluent French. Thinking back on everything he’d said around her, a flush of embarrassnt crept up his neck. He gave a sheepish smile, suddenly self-conscious about how foolish he might have sounded.
"No need to be nervous," Hera said gently, noticing Antoine’s fidgeting. But her reassurance didn’t seem to help—if anything, it made him even more self-conscious. Unable to handle the awkwardness any longer, Antoine offered a stiff smile before retreating with a muttered excuse. He needed to regroup, to recover from his own blunder. Better to retreat now and reappear later with a more composed image.
"That guy was... interesting," Liz finally said, snapping out of her daze. She took a seat beside Athena, though her eyes lingered on Hera with subtle curiosity. It was as if she were searching Hera’s expression for sothing—so hidden clue or aning.
But when Hera caught her gaze and responded with a serene smile, Liz simply shook her head. She knew it wasn’t her place to pry, not yet. If there was sothing more going on, she trusted that Hera—or Athena—would share it when the ti was right. For now, her role was simple: to enjoy the mont and prove she could be trusted.
Minerva, seemingly arriving at the sa unspoken conclusion, pushed her thoughts aside and took out her phone. She raised it and quietly snapped a photo of Hera, who was sipping champagne while gazing out at the balcony view.
Her side profile was frad perfectly against the glittering skyline, the sun casting a soft glow across her features. A cascade of rainbow light filtered through the colored glass above, adding an almost surreal touch. The resulting image looked like sothing from a magazine—so beautiful it seed edited, though it was purely natural. Satisfied, Minerva sent the photo to her brother without a word.
Ding!
Almost imdiately, a notification popped up on Minerva’s screen:
[You received a $1,000,000 money transfer to your account ending in ####]
Then it was imdiately followed by Rafael’s text ssage.
[Rafael: Pocket Money]
’Tsk, even his wording is stingy,’ Minerva thought, rolling her eyes. ’But still... he just sent a million dollars for a little treat? Hehehe... I never imagined my brother could be such a lovestruck fool. Looks like I’ve found my personal money tree.’
Grinning to herself, Minerva began snapping more photos of Hera from different angles. Hera, sensing the attention from the corner of her eye, didn’t say a word. She simply sipped her champagne with a faint smile, already guessing who the lucky recipient of those pictures would be.
And sure enough, the lucky recipient was grinning from ear to ear as he scrolled through the pictures his sister had sent. He carefully selected one—Hera standing by the balcony, champagne in hand, bathed in golden light—and set it as his computer’s desktop background.
Humming softly, he continued signing docunts, each stroke of his pen lighter than the last. Even though he wasn’t physically with Hera, this felt like the next best thing—watching her in real ti through Minerva’s lens.
It reassured him that he’d made the right decision sending Minerva to Paris with Hera. Not only did it give him a glimpse into Hera’s day, but it also gave her companionship—and maybe, just maybe, a chance for the two won to nd old wounds and start fresh.
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