The next morning in Paris was crisp and unapologetically golden. Sunlight spilled through tall windows and painted the antique furniture of the Fontaine residence with a warm hue that did not match the tension in the room.
Aurélie sat at the breakfast table, untouched croissant on her plate, staring at her reflection in the silver teapot. Last night felt like a fever dream—running from the gala, meeting Elio Marchand in the rain, and talking like old friends on the stone steps of a closed bookshop.
And now, this.
"He proposed, didn't he?" Laurent Fontaine asked, setting down his cup of espresso with theatrical calm.
Aurélie blinked, stunned. "Proposed? Who?"
"Elio Marchand, of course."
Laurent leaned back, adjusting his cufflinks.
"He returned to the gala not long after you disappeared. Alone, but unusually… pleased."
Aurélie stared at her father, then scoffed. "He did not propose, Papa."
"Not yet, perhaps. But you clearly made an impression."
"We barely spoke."
Laurent's eyes narrowed with amusement. "A Marchand doesn't linger in dark alleys for small talk."
Aurélie's mother, Geneviève, entered just then with her usual grace. She kissed the top of Aurélie's head and poured herself tea.
"Darling, we only want what's best for you. Elio comes from a family of legacy. Class. Wealth. And..." Geneviève paused, giving her daughter a meaningful look.
"...he's quite good-looking, no?"
Aurélie buried her face in her hands. "I can't believe this. You're trying to marry me off because of a five-minute conversation in the rain?"
Laurent set down his napkin with finality.
"Five minutes is all it takes to change a life, Aurélie. Your mother and I were engaged after ten."
Geneviève smiled fondly. "It was very romantic."
Aurélie stood abruptly. "This is insane. I'm going out."
"Out where?" Laurent called after her.
"To breathe," Aurélie muttered, grabbing her coat.
---
The cafés along Rue Cler were buzzing by the time she reached her favorite spot—small, quiet, and mostly hidden from tourists. She ordered a black coffee and tried not to think about anything.
But Paris had a way of interfering.
"You're early," said a familiar voice behind her.
Aurélie turned and found Elio Marchand, looking far too put-together for a man who supposedly hated galas.
He sat across from her without waiting for permission.
"How did you find me?" Aurélie asked, raising an eyebrow.
Elio sipped from the coffee the waiter had brought him—clearly already ordered. "I asked your father."
Aurélie blinked. "Excuse me?"
"He thinks I'm charming."
Aurélie leaned back. "And what do you want?"
Elio smiled, but there was something unreadable behind it. "A conversation. Maybe even a deal."
"A deal."
She folded her arms. "What kind of deal?"
Elio's tone shifted, a bit more serious. "You don't want to marry me. And I certainly don't want to marry anyone right now. But our parents… they're relentless."
Aurélie laughed bitterly. "Tell me about it."
"So," Elio said, steepling his fingers, "what if we gave them what they wanted? Temporarily."
She stared at him. "Are you seriously suggesting a fake relationship?"
"Not a relationship. A contract. We pretend to be romantically involved—attend the dinners, smile for the cameras. And after a few months, we can stage a breakup. Peacefully. Respectfully. And both of us get to walk away."
Aurélie was speechless for a moment. Then she said, "You've done this before, haven't you?"
Elio grinned. "Once. But she was American, and less convincing."
"Why me?"
"Because you hate this world as much as I do," Elio replied, eyes holding hers.
"And because you ran from the gala in a Dior gown. That takes guts."
Aurélie looked down at her coffee. The idea was absurd… and yet strangely logical. Their parents would be thrilled. The pressure would ease. And she wouldn't be forced to entertain awkward setups every week.
Still—
"What if one of us breaks the rules?" she asked quietly.
"There will be rules," Elio said, nodding. "And a clause for everything. Including early exits."
Aurélie hesitated. "This is insane."
"Welcome to Paris," Elio said with a wink.
---
Later that night, Aurélie sat at her desk, re-reading the initial draft of the contract Elio had emailed her.
> The Contractual Agreement Between Mr. Elio Marchand and Miss Aurélie Fontaine. Duration: 3 months. Objective: Convincing respective families and social circles of a romantic involvement. Conditions: – Attend at least two public events per month as a "couple." – Exchange daily messages or calls to maintain illusion. – No genuine romantic involvement. – If either party wishes to end the arrangement, one-week notice is required. – Absolutely no falling in love.
Aurélie paused at that last clause.
"Absolutely no falling in love," she whispered, rereading it.
She reached for her pen and signed it anyway.