Page 39 of The Substitute Fiancée

My heart implodes. Because despite everything he’s been through, despite all his mistrust… he believes me. And that thought warms me from the inside out.

Lunch is pleasant. Simple. Natural.

For an hour, I almost feel like everything is back to the way it was—before the lies, before the masks, before this improvised fiancée charade.

We’re good. He relaxes little by little, and we simply enjoy the present moment.

Then Alexander drops the bomb.

“Your father was waiting for me at my place last night.”

I freeze, my fork suspended between my plate and my mouth.

Did I hear that right?

His expression darkens as he continues.

“He wanted to talk to me about Kristel. He… wanted to plead her case.”

13. Surprise Visit

Alexander

The night before.

Arthur Chevalier.

The last person I wanted to see—right after Kristel and Grégoire.

Damn it. The evening had started so well.

“Good evening, Alexander,” he says gravely. “We need to talk.”

I simply nod. That’s all I’m capable of right now.

Mental note for later: remove Kristel and her father from the list of people authorized to enter my building.

I open the door, let him in, then close it behind him.

Arthur walks through my penthouse as if it were his own, stopping in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows to admire the view over Paris. Slowly, he loosens his tie and sets his coat down on the couch.

I drop my backpack, cross the living room, and retreat behind the counter of the open kitchen.

I pour myself a large glass of water.

My hands are trembling slightly, but I force myself to appear calm.

“Would you like some?” I offer, without any real warmth.

“No, thank you,” he replies. “But a whisky… I wouldn’t say no to that.”

Of course.

I drain my glass of water in one go, then head to the bar. I pour him a drink and hand it to him without a word.

He takes it immediately and swallows a long sip that makes his eyelids flutter shut. When he opens them again, he stares into the amber liquid as if searching for words at the bottom of the glass.

I don’t help him. I have no intention of making this easier.