One Hundred Five

Tonight, the Paris sky is strewn with stars, as though painting an endless canvas. The long journey from Lyon had felt so brief that I only realized now, Hugo hadn’t taken me to the Cassilas mansion with its echo of family history, but to another estate entirely. A mansion rebuilt, stitched together from every vision I had ever whispered to him, even from dreams I never thought he had been listening to.

The iron gates opened slowly, automatically, like curtains parting to reveal a new world. On either side, more than five men stood at attention. Their black suits concealed what I could not see but could feel. Weapons, loyalty, and a reminder that security always walked hand in hand with threat.

“Do you like it?” Hugo’s whisper brushed my ear as he kissed the back of my hand, the small gesture feeling like a seal, one of devotion and possession all at once.

“This soon?” I didn’t immediately look at him. My eyes were fixed on the winding path ahead, the immaculate garden, and, my breath