Ava looked up, surprise flickering across her face.
“Paris?
That’s… strange timing.
I’m going to Paris next week too.
My firm has a project there.”
Damon’s expression didn’t change.
“I know.”
Her brow furrowed.
“You know?”
“I had Cole look into your schedule.” He reached for his napkin, wiping his hands slowly.
“I pushed my trip back so we can fly together.
Where are you staying?”
“The firm booked a hotel in the seventh arrondissement.”
Damon shook his head.
“I have a property in the sixteenth.
Closer to your work site.
You’ll stay there.
Cole will arrange a driver.”
Ava opened her mouth as if to protest, then thought better of it.
“Alright.
Thank you.”
He stood, adjusting his cufflinks.
“I have work to finish.
Rest if you need to.”
She nodded, watching him leave with that unreadable look she always wore when she was trying to figure him out.
The night before their departure, Ava packed methodically, folding each garment with care.
She hated rushing, hated the chaos of last-minute scrambling.
She caught herself glancing at the clock more than once.
Wondering, absurdly, what it would be like to sit beside him on the flight.
Hours with nowhere else to be.
The next morning, she came downstairs ready, coffee in hand, and found Cole waiting by the door.
Alone.
“Where’s Damon?” she asked.
“Something came up last night.
Pack business, urgent.” Cole’s tone was smooth, professional, giving away nothing.
“The Alpha King sends his apologies.
He’ll join you in Paris as soon as it’s handled.”
Ava’s grip tightened around the cup.
“He’s not coming.”
“Not on this flight, ma’am.” Cole reached for her suitcase.
“He asked me to see you there safely.
The car’s waiting.”
She nodded slowly, keeping her face even.
Something small and stupid folded shut in her chest.
Of course.
Pack business.
What did you expect?
Cole took her through check-in and security, his efficiency almost robotic.
He saw her all the way to the first-class cabin, making sure her luggage was stowed and her seat comfortable before stepping back.
“Alpha Damon has arranged everything on the Paris end, Luna.
If you need anything, contact me right away.”
“Thank you, Cole.”
He inclined his head and left.
As the plane lifted off, Ava watched the city shrink below, a strange mix of relief and unease settling over her.
Relief, because traveling alone meant she could focus on work without keeping up the perfect facade of Luna Sterling.
Unease, because Damon’s absence felt heavier than it should have.
The villa was more beautiful than she’d expected.
Tucked into a quiet corner of the sixteenth arrondissement, it was a blend of old-world elegance and modern luxury.
The small courtyard was full of sunflowers, their bright faces turned toward the afternoon sun.
Cole handed her the keys himself, along with a set of instructions that bordered on excessive.
“The driver’s available from eight a.m.
to eight p.m.
daily.
Here’s the spare key, the alarm code, and my direct line.
Alpha Damon insists you call if anything feels off.”
“I’ll be fine, Cole.
Thank you.”
He hesitated, as if there was more he wanted to say, but in the end just bowed his head.
“Have a good evening, my Luna.”
Once he left, the villa fell silent.
Ava spent the evening unpacking and reviewing project files, the soft glow of her laptop the only light in the large, empty space.
The next two days blurred together in a haze of site visits, client meetings, and endless revisions.
Paris was beautiful, but Ava barely saw it beyond the plans spread across her desk.
Damon didn’t come.
She told herself it didn’t matter.
He was a busy man.
An Alpha King didn’t drop everything for a contract wife.
Still, she caught herself glancing at her phone more often than she should have.
On the third afternoon, Ava got back to the villa earlier than usual.
The site inspection had wrapped up ahead of schedule, leaving her a rare pocket of free time.
She made herself a cup of coffee and settled onto the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her project notes spread across the coffee table.
Her phone buzzed.
Video call incoming: Damon Sterling.
Ava’s heart did an odd little flip.
It was late evening back home.
Why would he call now?
She quickly smoothed her hair and straightened her sweater before accepting.
The screen lit up.
But it wasn’t Damon’s face that appeared.
It was a child.
A little boy, no more than three or four, with soft black hair and enormous, curious eyes.
His skin was pale, his features delicate and startlingly familiar.
Especially the way his lips curved when he tilted his head.
Just like Damon’s.
Ava’s breath caught.
“Hello?” the boy said, his voice high and sweet, slightly lisping.
“Who are you?”
Ava couldn’t speak.
Her mind raced, a cold dread sinking through her chest.
A child.
Damon had a child.
Before she could process it, a woman’s voice floated in from off-screen, warm and chiding.
“Leo, did you take Daddy’s phone again?
I told you, when Daddy’s resting, you can’t play with his things.”