Full Throttle of Fate

Chapter 13: One of His Girls

The streets of Paris were alive with the soft glow of evening lights, the city's elegance on full display as Serena made her way to the prestigious jewelry event. It was her first time in Paris—a milestone she had dreamed of for years.

But despite the city's enchanting beauty, a sense of unease gnawed at her as she stepped out of the car and onto the cobblestone streets.

Earlier in the day, she had wrapped up her shooting for Bridgerton. The scene had been intense, one that demanded everything from her—emotionally and physically.

But what lingered most in her mind wasn't the challenges of the scene itself; it was the rehearsal with Severin back in the UK.

The memory of their kiss, the way his touch had felt so real, so charged with emotion, had been haunting her ever since. She hadn't heard much from Severin since she left for Paris, and the distance between them felt more than just physical.

They had spoken briefly before she headed to the event, Severin calling her during a break in his meetings.

His voice had brought a semblance of normalcy, but the tension from their last encounter still lingered, unspoken yet palpable.

"So, first time in Paris, huh? You should have let me tag along. I could've been your bodyguard." he had teased, the warmth in his tone easing the anxiety that had been building in her chest.

Serena had laughed, though there was a slight hesitation in her voice.

"Yeah, because I'm sure the team wouldn't mind their star driver playing bodyguard instead of racing."

"True." he admitted with a chuckle.

"But I would've loved to be there with you. Paris is something else, especially your first time. Make sure you check out some of the places I told you about."

"I will..." she promised, feeling a pang of disappointment that he couldn't join her.

Their conversation had ended with him wishing her luck for the evening, but there had been a moment of silence before they said their goodbyes, as if both were thinking of what had happened between them but were too cautious to bring it up.

Those unspoken words had stayed with her, filling her with a mix of emotions as she prepared for the event.

Now, standing in the heart of Paris, surrounded by opulence and glamour, the confidence she usually drew from Severin's encouragement began to waver.

The city was beautiful, but it also felt overwhelming and distant, much like the space that seemed to be growing between her and Severin.

The dress she wore was stunning—a sleek, form-fitting gown that highlighted her figure without being overtly flashy.

The deep emerald color complimented her skin tone, and the delicate jewelry she wore added just the right amount of sparkle.

Yet, as she walked past the reflective windows of a nearby boutique, all she could see were her flaws.

She wasn't tall and statuesque like the women she knew Severin had dated—those effortlessly glamorous women who seemed to belong in this world.

She was petite, with a curvaceous figure that, while attractive, felt out of sync with the willowy grace she envied.

As she entered the grand hall, her insecurities only deepened. The room was filled with glittering chandeliers, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

Everywhere she looked, there were beautiful people, and she wondered if any of them saw her as anything more than an interloper in their world.

But she forced a smile, steeling herself as she moved through the crowd. This was her life now, and she needed to own it, even if it felt like a borrowed existence.