Azalea Faye Larau - The sweetheart socialite with a fire underneath and an up and coming ballet dancer in London striving to stay afloat in an ocean of sharks, all the while dealing with heartbreak and loss.
Harlan Emeric Marchetti - The Italian Maf...
"When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom."
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The crisp breeze of France greeted us as we stepped off the plane, a mixture of excitement and tension lingering in the air.
My eyes swept over the familiar landscape, and a flutter of nerves twisted in her stomach. We had finally arrived, a place that held history, secrets, and a purpose deeper than just celebration.
We all piled into the waiting car, the chatter of the girls lively and bursting with plans for the coming days as Jamie sat in the front and talked to our old family driver.
"Ms. Larau, it's a pleasure to see you again." Joan, our driver, smiled at me through the rear-view mirror.
"You too, Joan. I hope everything is well with you?" I asked and saw his nod.
"Well and good, Ms. Larau." He grinned before I sat back and looked out from the window, watching the familiar beautiful scenery passing by.
The car pulled into the circular driveway of Jamie's family home, its arches and wrought-iron details evoking memories of summers long past.
The air inside was perfumed with the scent of lavender and polished wood, warm and welcoming as we stepped into the foyer.
"Azalea!" I heard Julia before I saw her, watching the plump woman make her way over to us before engulfing me in a big hug that knocked the air out of my lungs.
"It's good to see you too, Julia." I chuckled as I hugged her back before she finally let me go, her eyes wide and lips pulled into a big grin as she looked me over.
"Mon Dieu, you look even more beautiful now!" She pulled my cheeks while the girls laughed, "And you got engaged! Where's your fiancé?"
She tried to looked around but when she didn't see anyone, she frowned.
"He's not here, Julia, he had to take care of some work back home. And besides, this is a girl's trip." I told her when she arched a brow and looked at Jamie accusingly.
"I'm just the bodyguard, Julia." He raised his hands in mock surrender before she smiled once again and hugged him next.
"I missed you too, Jamie, try not to go for so long next time." She chastised and he nodded before she moved to the girls, showering them with compliments and fussing over them like a mother hen.
Julia was Joan's wife and both of them had been working for us for years. I'd known them ever since I was a baby and they were like parental figures to me whenever I came to France.
"Now, you girls all settle down into your rooms, I'll have the maids take you while I set up lunch. I hope you are all hungry, oui?" Her French accent came out thick when the girls nodded.
