Vienna’s POVA week had passed, and the bakery’s renovations were nearly finished. It looked… incredible. The dream I’d carried for years had blossomed into something even better.Harold and Célestine came by with Oliver that afternoon. Oliver squealed in delight at the sight of the shiny new pastry display.Célestine clasped her hands together the moment she took it all in. Her eyes widened, and she gasped."Mon Dieu… Vienna, it’s just like stepping back into Paris."I couldn’t help but smile, warmth flooding my chest. "That’s exactly what I was going for. A little piece of Paris, here."She walked further inside, trailing her fingers over the polished counter. "The light, the colors, even the floor tiles—this is art. You’ve outdone yourself."She turned back to me. "And what about the progress with the fire inspection?"I scoffed. "What progress? They keep delaying. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I can open in two months. My goal was two weeks.""Bureaucracy," sighed Harold. "It’s th
Warren’s POVWhen I got home from our date—though Vienna had carefully labeled it a friendly meet-up—I was buzzing with an energy I hadn’t felt in years.Oliver was my son!Vienna had said it. Out loud. "Our son." Those two words echoed in my head like a melody I never wanted to forget.For so long, I’d been living with the ache of uncertainty. I’d forced myself not to get my hopes up. Not to believe.But tonight, everything had changed.I stared at the ceiling, grinning like an idiot. "Oliver’s mine."Of course, the DNA test would just confirm it. But in my heart, I already knew it was true.What kind of father was I going to be? Could I make up for the years I wasn’t there? Would Oliver even want me in his life?"One day," I whispered. "One day, I’ll ask her to move in. We’ll be a family. All of us."The idea burned so bright in me that sleep became impossible. I tossed and turned, dreams pulling me into visions of Vienna and Oliver living here with me.The next morning, I grabbed th
Vienna’s POVWarren took me to Louvelle, the very restaurant where we had our first date all those years ago.When he saw me step out of the car, his gaze lingered. A slow smile curved his lips."That dress…" he said softly. "You still have it. Vienna… I always loved you in that one."Heat crept into my cheeks. "I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.""I remember everything," he murmured.Inside, we were seated at a corner table, candlelight flickering between us. The intimacy of it all—the familiar place, the familiar man—had my stomach tangled in knots.I opened the menu, pretending to read, though the words blurred. Memories of laughter, whispered promises, and the way it had all fallen apart buzzed in my head. Were we playing with fire, risking another heartbreak?Warren tilted his head, watching me closely. "You’re awfully quiet," he said. "What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?"My throat tightened. I scrambled for something to say, something safe. "It’s just, uh, the baker
Vienna’s POV"Vienna, hey…" A warm, low voice filled my ear."Hi, Warren," I replied softly, slipping out of the living room."How are you?" he asked. His tone was casual, but there was a tenderness threaded through it.I let out a little sigh. "Other than some… bureaucratic nightmares with the bakery, I’m good. And you?""I’m feeling better than I have in ages," he said, and I could hear the faint curl of a smile in his words.I hesitated, chewing my lip. But before I could say anything, he spoke again, his voice dropping lower. "To be honest, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the wedding."My heart thudded against my ribs. I swallowed hard. "To be honest…" I paused, fumbling for words. "I… haven’t either. Stopped thinking about you, I mean. Not about myself, obviously." I winced at my own awkward rambling.He chuckled. "Wow… Vienna. You have no idea how much it means to hear that."A small smile tugged at my lips, despite the lingering doubt. Was rekindling this
Vienna’s POVThe bakery buzzed with energy. Sophia’s team and I moved around in a flurry of activity, weaving between ladders, rolls of paper, and unopened boxes. New marble counters gleamed under the soft light. The walls, freshly painted a delicate beige-pink, looked warm and welcoming. Large mirrors lined along the wall made the space feel bigger, brighter. Tasteful art pieces—soft watercolors of Parisian streets and cafés—completed the illusion that you just stepped into a corner café in France.A group of men carried in round bistro tables. I walked behind them, directing. "Just a little to the left—yes, that’s perfect. And could you angle that one closer to the window?"The room was transforming before my eyes. My dream was becoming real.I turned to Sophia, who was watching with her usual sharp eye, lips curved in a satisfied smile. "Sophia, thank you. Really. Without your amazing sense for design, this place would’ve looked like… well, just a bakery. Not this."Her smile wi
Desiree’s POV"Good boy," I purred into the ear of the portly, middle-aged man. "You’ve been very helpful today."Cole sat sweating in the rickety chair, his face an unhealthy shade of crimson. He strained against the ropes digging into his flabby arms."I never break my clients’ trust, Desiree," he spat, voice trembling between anger and panic. "When I get out of here, this is gonna cost you—""Careful now, Cole," I cut in, my tone sliding from syrup to steel. "Wouldn’t want your poor daughter to get that punishment we spoke about."He wisely shut his mouth, but his eyes screamed murder.The door creaked open behind me. I turned as a stocky woman in a crisp white lab coat strode in."Melissa," I said smoothly. "Did everything go according to plan?""Yes," she said, catching her breath. "Warren seemed… on edge, but I don’t think he suspected anything. He gave me the samples."She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two clear plastic packets, each neatly labeled."Mmm." I took