Destiny For Unlikely Vows

Chapter 18

I was captivated by Paris, absorbing every inch of its picturesque charm as we made our way through the city. And then, as if the enchantment couldn't grow any stronger, we arrived at the 4th arrondissement, a place of storied beauty nestled around Ile Saint-Louis and Ile de la Cité. This was where his condo-no, his *villa*-was. It felt surreal, like a long-held wish casually crossed off my bucket list. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that met my eyes.

When we reached his villa, my jaw nearly dropped. Was he truly this wealthy? To own property in such a prestigious, outrageously expensive part of Paris was nothing short of astonishing. My heart raced as I took in the grandeur of the place. I was swept into awe, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of it all. Stone pathways led to towering, ornate doors surrounded by delicate ironwork, and the villa itself radiated a historic elegance, like something out of an old-world fairy tale. This wasn't just a place to live-it was a masterpiece.

As soon as we arrived, the driver took our luggage and spoke to him in French. I couldn't help but be surprised, yet somehow it fit; of course, he'd be fluent in French, of all things. He's brilliant, so I suppose there's no limit to his talents.

Then, as we were ushered inside by his ever-attentive bodyguard, I found myself inside an exquisite foyer. Marble floors gleamed, mirroring the crystal chandeliers above. Every detail, from the intricate molding to the sumptuous furniture, whispered refinement. A woman, graceful and poised with an air of elegance that suggested she was in her early 40s, greeted us with a warm, "Bienvenue, monsieur ! J'espère que votre voyage a été agréable."

I didn't catch a word she said, but she smiled, so I returned the smile politely. He then spoke to her in French again, asking, "Prendre son sac et le mettre dans une autre pièce, et le mien dans ma chambre."

I was beginning to feel like I was in a dream-a dream in a language I couldn't understand, surrounded by luxury I could hardly imagine. *How am I going to survive here?*

The woman took my bag and, noticing my bewildered expression, asked me, "Is monsieur est votre ami?"

"I don't speak French," I replied, still feeling out of place yet determined to hold my own.

Switching to English, she clarified, "Oh! Is he a friend of yours?"

For a moment, I froze. He hadn't introduced me as his wife. Just a friend-or maybe even a guest. *Fine. If he doesn't want to address himself as my husband, why should I?* So I gave her a small, polite nod, saying, "Yes, I'm his... friend. I'm staying here while I settle in, but I'll be moving out soon."

In that moment, I mentally committed to this plan. I'd move out, eventually. In two days, I'd be starting work at the office, and I knew Anna Pazera, a colleague there. I'd ask her to help me find someplace affordable, though I had little hope of finding anything within my reach in a city as expensive as Paris.

The woman smiled kindly and welcomed me once more before stepping out, leaving me alone in this grand room. As I looked around, the grandeur of the villa sunk in again. It was like being in a palace-elegant, breathtaking, but somehow daunting.