All Chapters of Forced into his world : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Louise’s POVFontvieille to Monte Carlo wasn’t much of a distance, and in no time, I was home already.“Daddy, I’m home,” I said as I walked in.“Good day, Ms. Gael,” Agatha, our housekeeper, greeted me.“Good day to you, too, Ms. Agatha,” I responded. “Where is Papa?” I asked.“Up in his study,” she replied. I thanked her and went upstairs to see my dad.I knocked on the door. “Come in,” he said in a tone that sounded unusually tense. I opened the door, and I walked in. My father got up from his chair, walking toward me with his arms wide open for a hug. I smiled and gave him a big hug.“Fontvieille to Monte Carlo is not far, Dad. I don’t know why you never visit me.”“You know I don’t like the idea of you being in a relationship with a woman. You’re my only child, and I need an heir.”There he goes again, reminding me of my duty as the heiress of the Gael legacy, to bring forth an heir. “But Dad”, I started to speak, but he cut me off, handing me a file.“What are these, Papa?”

Louise’s POVI got home and was still in my car, holding Elsa’s favorite flower in my hand.How do I tell her? I decided to pretend for a week, to enjoy my last moments with her.“What does this Tristan look like?” I asked myself. I decided to check him out on Singram. To my greatest surprise, he was very handsome. I was never one to be attracted to men, but I wasn’t blind either. I could see how good-looking he was.As I was scrolling through his page to look at more photos, I accidentally liked a shirtless picture of him.“What the fuck!” I said out loud.I turned off my phone, grabbed the flowers, and went inside.Elsa was already asleep when I walked in, and I didn’t want to wake her, but somehow, she stirred.“I can smell your cologne, babe. I know you’re back,” she said as she tried to get up from the bed.“I didn’t want to wake you, but now that you’re up, you can have this,” I said, handing her the bouquet.“My favorite? What’s the occasion?” she asked, grinning from ear to e

Louise’s POVTwo Days LaterThe relationship was over,Just like my father wanted.Elsa and I hadn’t spoken since that night, the night I stood outside my own bedroom and watched her give herself to someone else, without hesitation, without guilt, without me.But there was still the company, the business we’d built together from scratch. We’d celebrated wins. Every corner of that office held a piece of us, of who we used to be.But not anymore.I had made up my mind.I picked up my phone and typed the words slowly, carefully, not with anger, just finality:“I’m selling my half of the company to you. You can continue without me. We’ll be meeting next week, please come with your lawyer.”That was it.No hi,No how are you,No I hope you’re okay.She didn’t deserve softness from me, not anymore. Especially not after the dozen messages and missed calls she’d left me in the past forty-eight hours. I hadn’t read them. I wouldn’t.There was nothing left to say.I barely left my room.My fath

Louise’s Pov We arrived at the restaurant It was perched on the edge of the coastline, all glass walls and classy, the kind of place that whispers money. The parking attendant opened my door, but I didn’t step out right away. I waited, letting Tristan walk around and open the door himself. He did, of course, just like a gentleman, even when he was furious.I stepped out without a word, smoothing my shirt. His eyes flicked over me again, still clearly annoyed I wasn’t wearing the dress, but now, in public, he said nothing. His expression was calm, too calm, the kind that tells you he's trying not to explode.We walked inside together, our silence a third presence at the table. The hostess led us to a private corner, a booth with a view of the water. Everything was spotless, minimalistic, intentional, like him. Tristan pulled out my chair, and I sat, still not speaking.“So,” he said after a long moment, picking up the menu, “tell me, Louise, do you make it a habit to ignore thoughtfu

Louise’s POV The house was quiet when I woke up. Too quiet. The kind of silence that wraps around you and presses on your chest. I didn’t need a calendar to know what day it was. My body knew. My heart knew. I sat up slowly, the sheets still holding the warmth from my sleep. I stared at the ceiling for a while before I got up. There was no rush. No one in this house moved quickly on this day. Downstairs, the air smelled like roses. Ms. Agatha had already brought them in, soft pink and white ones, the kind my mother loved. She always said white roses made everything feel peaceful, even when life wasn’t. I walked into the kitchen, and there she was, Ms. Agatha, arranging flowers like she did every year. “Morning, sweetheart,” she said softly, her eyes kind but tired. “Morning,” I replied, my voice small. She placed a few more roses in a basket and looked at me. “It’s been eight years.” “I know.” “Feels like yesterday.” I nodded. It did. My father came down a little