Chapter 7:
The jet was quieter than Eden expected—no roaring engines, no shaking floor. Just plush leather, cold champagne, and the tension of sitting across from a man who hadn't spoken to her since they left the penthouse.
Cassian Wolfe stared out the window, clouds gliding beneath them like waves of silk.
Eden shifted in her seat, curled up in a corner of leather worth more than her entire apartment. Everything around her screamed power. Wealth. Distance.
But none of it could drown out the weight between them.
"Why Paris?" she asked.
She hadn't meant to say it out loud. She was supposed to keep it professional. Stay guarded. Stick to the role.
Instead, she whispered, "Are we still pretending?"
Cassian turned, eyes unreadable. "Does it feel like we are?"
"You tell me."
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped. "This trip was meant to sell the image. A public romance. A distraction. But now..." His voice trailed off. "I don't know where the game ends anymore."
She hesitated. "Then... why Paris?"
Cassian looked at her. "Because it's the one place my father can't control me."
They landed just past midnight. Paris air was crisp, scented with rain and stone. A black car waited at the private hangar. When Cassian helped her inside, his fingers brushed hers. Warm. Intentional.
The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance as the city passed them in streaks of gold.
"I've never been out of the country," Eden murmured.
"Then let's make it count," he replied.
The suite at Le Pavillon de la Lumière was a dream.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Seine. A balcony stretched as wide as her old apartment. Chandeliers sparkled above the marble bathtub.
Eden stood frozen at the door.
Cassian chuckled behind her. "Pick a side of the bed."
She blinked. "There's only one bed."
"And a couch," he added.
"You should take the bed."
"I'll sleep on the couch. Relax."
She crossed her arms. "You shouldn't have to."
He tilted his head. "Do you want me to share the bed?"
Eden flushed. "That's not what I meant."
He didn't push. Just picked up a pillow and blanket and dropped them on the oversized chaise near the window.
The next morning came with sunlight—and scandal.
Cassian handed her a croissant and his phone.
Photos from the gala covered the screen. Their lips nearly touching. Hands too familiar. Headlines blared:
Cassian Wolfe's Mystery Fiancée Unmasked.
Eden Blake: From Deliveries to Diamonds.
Sleeping With the CEO? Or Just Playing the Part?
Eden swallowed hard. "They're calling me a gold digger."
"They call everyone that," Cassian said, unmoved. "Ignore it."
But she couldn't. Some comments were cruel. Some used her real name.
"Cassian… how do they know who I am?"
He tensed. "I'll handle it."
She grabbed his wrist. "No. I want to know."
His voice dropped. "I think someone close to me leaked your name. Verena, maybe. Or someone from Gregory's team."
"I trusted you."
"And I didn't fail you. I'll fix this."
That afternoon, they visited the Musée d'Orsay. For appearances.
Paparazzi swarmed them. Cassian reached for her hand.
Eden hesitated—then took it.
Inside, light danced across paintings. Monet. Degas. Van Gogh.
Eden paused before a delicate Renoir sketch.
"I used to draw," she said softly.
Cassian turned to her. "Why did you stop?"
"I couldn't afford to dream anymore."
"Maybe it's time you started again," he said.
That night, they attended a charity dinner in the 7th arrondissement. Eden wore a black gown. Pearls shimmered in her hair. Cassian stood beside her in a tux, playing the perfect billionaire.
Midway through the event, a waiter handed her a folded note.
Three words, inked in red:
He's lying again.
Eden scanned the room. Everyone looked unfamiliar. Cassian was deep in conversation with a government official.
She excused herself and stepped outside.
On the terrace, a woman stood waiting.
Tall. Blonde. Eyes sharp like broken glass.
"Verena?" Eden asked.
The woman smiled coldly. "Smart girl. Just not smart enough."
"What do you want?"
"A warning. Cassian isn't who you think he is."
"I know he's complicated."
Verena laughed. "Complicated? Try dangerous. Ask him what happened in Zurich."
Eden's heart skipped. "What happened?"
"Ask him." And just like that, Verena vanished into the night.
Back at the suite, Eden removed her jewelry in silence.
Cassian watched from the door. "You okay?"
"No," she said. "What happened in Zurich?"
He froze.
"Eden—"
"Don't lie to me."
Cassian sat on the edge of the bed, looking… older.
"There was a deal. Two years ago. A merger. It went bad. People got hurt. My father made me cover it up. Verena leaked the truth. It nearly destroyed me."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want you to see me as a monster."
Eden sat down across from him, her mind spinning.
"I don't know who you are anymore."
Cassian moved toward her. "Then let me show you. Let me earn that trust."
"I don't know if I can," she said.
"But you still feel something. Don't you?"
She didn't answer.
He knelt in front of her and gently took her hand.
"No more secrets. No more lies. Just us."
Eden closed her eyes.
She wanted to believe him.
She wanted it to be real.
But in a city of masks… who could you trust?
And what would it cost to take yours off?