The sleek black Maybach glided down the road, slicing through the calm morning air as if even the wind bowed to its presence. Paris unfolded beyond the tinted glass like a painting in motion — the Seine glimmering beneath the sunlight, the distant hum of city life carried through open streets, and the faint fragrance of roasted coffee and blooming lavender sneaking into the car through the vents.
Anastasia leaned her head against the window, eyes tracing the blur of colors outside — the silver rooftops, the narrow cobblestone alleys, the way life in Paris always seemed so… cinematic. Yet even with all that beauty, her gaze drifted back to the man beside her. Dante.
