A short while later, they were all seated around the kitchen table, enjoying the meal Damien's parents had brought. Gabriel appeared to be taking the news of their relationship a tad better than his wife, Alice, who couldn't hide her disapproval. She never missed the opportunity to cast nasty glances at Camille and make subtle, biting comments. Damien, however, seemed completely unfazed by his mother's behavior, all his attention was focused on the woman sitting beside him. A sweet smile lit up Damien's face as he placed a bite-sized slice of charred lamb on Camille's plate. "You have to try this, it's so delish," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Returning his smile, Camille picked up the meat with her fork and savored the bite, blissfully unaware of the daggers Alice was shooting at her from across the table. The older woman cleared her throat emphatical, striving to gain their attention. When she succeeded, she spoke to Camille with a tone tin
"Sorry, I couldn't call sooner," Damien's voice chimed through from the other end. "Did you get home safe?" Camille couldn't stop herself from grinning widely whenever she heard his voice— or stop her body from moving. I mean, how could she keep still when the entire zoo was parading in her belly? She beamed, slowly pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window as she interchangeably swapped the position of her phone from ear to ear. "Of course, I did. Thankfully, in one piece." "You're not changing your mind about us just because my mom disapproves, right?" He said, his voice laced with worry. "Let me apologize in her stead. She can be inconsiderate sometimes but she's totally harmless, believe me." "It's okay. I understand," she said with a smile. "And I'm never changing my mind about us. I didn't muster the courage to pour out my feelings before them only to relent afterward." A brief, silent fell at the other end of the line and Camille could bet her kidn
Juniper's face scrunched up in an expression of utter disgust as she stared at her phone, scrolling through article after article of the daily news. Chloe's face was plastered across the front pages of nearly every media outlet, from reputable magazines to sensational tabloids and blogs, glorified with catchy headlines that were impossible to ignore. . . [ "Meet Forêt-Bleue's Youngest CEO Who's Changing the Game: Chloe Clermont" "The Unstoppable Rise of Forêt-Bleue's Youngest Female CEO" "The Future of Business: Chloe Clermont's Inspiring Story" "CEO Sensation: Chloe Clermont's Recipe for Success" "Chloe Clermont: The Face of Modern Leadership" "From Startup to Stardom: Chloe's Journey to the Top" "The Power Player: Chloe Clermont's Impact on Bellerose Fragrance" ] It didn't stop there. The headlines kept getting more and more annoying as they came. And the articles, themselves? Nothing but overexaggerated facts to cover up her lack of better a
The magnificent ballroom room of the renowned Paradis Hotels shone with exquisite lighting and decorations, setting the tone for an unforgettable evening. The entire space buzzed with prominent guests of all ranks, dressed to the tens, and eager reporters, clicking away to capture every moment of the event. The gentle hum of conversation, the soft clinking of glasses, and the melodic background music all synchronized perfectly into an electrifying atmosphere of celebration. The Bellerose Fragrance 90th anniversary celebration was like no other occasion, packed with engaging and memorable programs that were bound to live rent-free in the attendees' minds. The event featured welcome addresses that highlighted the company's history and milestones, award presentations to honor long-serving employees, mesmerizing perfume exhibitions, educating video presentations, and a ceremonial cake cutting. The entertaining programs unfolded nonstop until the attendees were
"YES. OH, YES. FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER, DYLAN! AHHHH!!!!" Loud moanings of pleasure boomed through from the speakers, and slowly the large display TV cracked back to live, revealing random x-rated footage of Chloe being put in multiple positions as Dylan licked, sucked, and banged her in his bedroom. Chaos erupted in the hall as the audience clamored about the explicit video playing before them while the reporters hurriedly clicked their cameras, determined to capture every single detail. But all that noise was lost to Chloe, fading into the background as she stood frozen at the spot. Her hand instantly grew weak, causing the wine glass she held to fall to the ground, shattering to smithereens. What was going on? Chloe thought to herself, her eyes glued to the big screen. She remembered clearly every video that played before and every word she'd said. But all these had happened in the secrecy of Dylan's penthouse apartment. How exactly did these vi
Chloe hated that she was about to do the exact thing Juniper ridiculed her about, but what choice did she have left? If groveling meant she could remain in the Royal Palace, then she would grovel. And that, she did. The moment the Queen's lady-in-waiting opened the door to her, Chloe dropped to her knees and began to beg. "Your Majesty, please forgive me. I swear, I never meant any of this to happen. I'm so sorry." Queen Catherine barely acknowledged her presence as she slowly leafed through the pages of a magazine. "If you must know, Chloe, I've never had expectations of anyone— Not even once. But I had high expectations of you. I truly did," she said in a flat tone, her eyes never leaving the magazine. "However, you proved to be just like every other riffraff who was merely fortunate to step into the world of the elites. But what can I say? No one can truly leave their filthy background behind, can they?" "Your Majesty, I. . . I can explain—" "What's left
THE FOLLOWING DAY. . . Throughout the night, Antoine boiled with rage. All he could think of was confronting the queen. But now that he was here, sitting before her in the palace's grand courtyard, he felt somewhat intimidated by her imposing demeanor to even relay his case. "Your Majesty, I beg to respectfully remind you that the union between our children is more than a mere marital bond," Antoine said. "It's an alliance between our families. You can't simply discard my daughter in this manner." Queen Catherine held his gaze for a short while that felt like hours, regarding him with nothing but sheer contempt. "Allow me to comprehend this correctly," she said haughtily, dropping her teacup on the table with a soft thud. "You expect me to still accept your daughter for my son after her scandalous behavior? Have you lost your mind, Antoine? Or do you not know what's at stake here?" "I'm well aware of what's at stake, Your Majesty," Antoine retorted, struggling to kee
Camille savored the soothing music emitting from the radio of Damien's car, nodding her head slowly to its melody. As Damien drove her home, one of his hands deftly controlled the steering wheel while the other was linked to hers perfectly. When he honked the car horn repeatedly out of impatience, Camille fluttered her eyes partially open to inspect the situation, only to find out they weren't on their way to her house, but to the Prime Minister's residence. "Uh, Damien. . . Why are we heading to your family house?" She asked lazily yet curious. He beamed, his eyes remaining fixed on the road. "My parents want us to have dinner with them." Camille's eyes immediately flew wide open and she turned to him. "What?!" she exclaimed, snatching her hands away from his. "And you're just telling me now?" Damien's lashes fluttered in confusion, his eyes unsteadily glanced from her to the road. "Why? Is something wrong?" "Yes!" Camille replied snappily. "You sho
Even though Juniper was well aware of who stood behind her, she remained still, trying not to provoke him. And then she felt the pressure of the gun no more, just as quickly as it had come against her head. Suddenly, Adrien appeared before her, his gun pointing at her face. "Relax," he said benignly. "I mean you no harm." Unfazed, Juniper looked him dead straight in the eyes. "Well. . . from where I stand, that's hard to believe." Adrien heaved a deep sigh and lowered his gun. "I'm not here to make trouble," he returned evenly. "I'm here to ask for your help. I need to find Antoine." The next hour, Juniper and Adrien sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, each with a plate of pasta and tomato sauce in front of them, though neither had made much progress in eating. Juniper wasn't in the best of her mood but she'd had insisted on whipping up a simple dinner for them, despite Adrien's initial reluctance. "You do know the police are already handling An
Juniper was still frozen in shock even after Adrien planted a kiss on Camille's forehead and went in the direction Antoine had fled. She never released her grip on Camille's hand. Her eyes, blurred with tears, scanned Camille's lifeless body as she prayed that she was having a nightmare and in no time, she'd wake up. She opened her mouth to call her name but no sound came out only hot tears came pouring out of her eyes in a torrent. AH! CAMILLE! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? Juniper was too engrossed in grief to hear anything. Not even the sound of thudding footsteps approaching her, nor the utterances of cops as they handcuffed and bundled up the Krakens lying unconscious on the ground. It was when Jerome called out to her that she gazed up at him, her face plastered with exhaustion and thoroughly bathed with tears. "Jerome. . . Jerome. . . It's. . . It's Camille." Was all she could blubber. The color on Jerome's face drained instantly. Anyone could tell it
With Camille supporting Juniper on one side while Adrien took the other, their movement through the western wing tunnel was a lot easier and faster. Every sound they made seemed to magnify in the enclosed space of the tunnel— Every step, every breath, every groan. At some point, Camille felt Juniper's body growing weaker and her feet falling behind, but she boosted her morale with soothing words. "There's a door at the end of the tunnel, once we get past that we're out of here. Just hang in there a little longer. Soon this nightmare will be over." On reaching the door, Adrien abandoned them for a second to handle the manual lever that controlled the lock of the metal door. And as the door groaned open, they departed the tunnel, relishing the fresh, evening air outside. "My car is packed not too far from here," Camille panted softly, pointing in the direction. "We have to get there as quickly as possible." "Not so fast, people!" A low, mocking voice came through fr
Long after he hung up the call with his sister, Adrien received a message from the mole planted at the police station, informing him that the cops were on their way to their location. Of course, he hadn't relayed the message to the Big Boss. Today would be his day of reckoning. Unfailingly. Adrien hurried to the control room fortunate to find the man in charge absent. He seemed to be having a bad stomach day— Courtesy of that spiked drink Adrien had offered him earlier. With the coast clear, he quickly manipulated the surveillance camera feeds, replacing the live footage with a pre-recorded loop of a specific time period, making it appear normal and impossible for the man in charge to detect. After covering his digital tracks effectively, he made his way to the Interrogation Room where Juniper was being held. Two Krakens were stationed at the front of the Interrogation Room. They gave him a polite nod as he approached them, but before any of them could open
Camille geared up, preparing herself for the battle ahead of her. It was already evening and she still hadn't gotten any other response from Jerome, causing her to grow increasingly anxious. Yesterday, as soon as Adrien had left her house, she had reached out to Jerome and the Crown Prince, updating them on the latest developments. Jerome had requested a Search and Seizure Warrant before they headed out to find Juniper, but his superior had denied the request. Time was running out, and Camille couldn't afford to wait any longer. The thought of Juniper spending another night in that godforsaken place, staggering on the brink of death, was enough to send chills down her spine. She was going to take matters into her own hands and head to the location immediately. With everything in order and her plans in place, Camille used the secure burn phone to contact her brother, alerting him of her arrival. As she ended the call with her brother, her main phone buzzed to l
Three days had passed since Juniper's disappearance, and Camille was losing it at a fast rate. She had gotten everyone related to Juniper involved in the search, and exhausted every means possible to find her, but all their investigation had yielded nothing. No CCTV footage, no dashcam recordings, no single eyewitness had come forward. . . not even her car was found. It was as if Juniper had vanished in thin air Camille knew this wasn't ordinary. Yes, Juniper was capable of disappearing like this, but not without telling her. Someone was behind this. And she could only think of one person. ANTIONE CLERMONT! But where could he have kept her? It couldn't be at the Bellerose Mansion for sure. He wasn't that stupid. Even as Camille returned home, her mind still raced with thoughts and questions. But her attention was abruptly diverted when she reached the front door. She stopped mid-step, her hand hesitating on the door handle, as she realized that the s
*TRIGGER ALERT: VIOLENCE* Juniper moaned softly, her eyes fluttering open as she slowly began to regain consciousness. At first, her vision appeared foggy, but then slowly, it became clearer and her eyes adjusted to the dimly lighted room. And in a split second, the memories came flooding in, replaying the events that took place prior to her passing out. This was Antoine's plan, no doubt. He must've sent the Krakens to waylaid and bring her to this place. But where was she, by the way? Her head throbbed like hell, making it difficult to stay focused, but she fought back the dizziness and managed to survey her surroundings. She couldn't figure out where exactly she was, but one thing she could tell for sure was this place was reserved for nothing but torture— Or worse. . . MURDER! Beside her, assorted hand-held tools splayed on a table, an electrocuting machine settled next to it, and straight ahead. . . a couple of hangman's noose dangled from a
Camille was starting to get impatient, wondering what was keeping Juniper. It was 8:00 p.m. already, almost an hour past the time they'd agreed to meet but she was nowhere to be found. She'd rang her cell over and over— but to no avail. Why wasn't she here yet? Was she caught in traffic? Or perhaps was she unable to clear her schedule? If that was the case, she would've informed her beforehand. Juniper would never leave her hanging this way. Camille shook her head, waving off the unsettling thoughts that were starting to pile up in her mind. For now, she would just go to the meeting and worry about Juniper later. Lisette Austin must be waiting at the restaurant by now. The poor girl was already frightened by the consequences of speaking the truth, leaving her waiting could cause her to lose courage and change her mind. She couldn't let that happen. On reaching the restaurant, Camille wasn't surprised to find Lisette already seated at the table reserved
Antoine still couldn't believe his wife had lost her mind. Even as the doctor had explained it over and over he couldn't wrap his head around it. He'd partially hoped his wife was putting on an act to avoid being detained but that wasn't the case, not at all! SHE HAD GONE BONKERS! What was he going to do? All of a sudden, the mansion felt so quiet and lonely. It hadn't been long since he'd lost his daughter, now his wife was conformed to a psych ward. His family were no longer here. The people he'd acquired all this wealth and power for were no longer here to enjoy it. He was left all by himself in this huge, empty mansion. This wasn't what he planned. Why was his life moving out of track? A soft knock on his door momentarily distracted him from his turbulent thoughts. Following his permission, his private investigator entered into his study. "Good day, sir," he greeted politely. "I brought news about Mr. Michaelson, the American investor." Antoine's i