Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 61 - Chapitre 70

The flight to London is long and uncomfortable. At nearly thirty weeks pregnant, my body protests every moment of the cramped airline seat. But I refuse to upgrade to business class despite being able to afford it now. The five million dollars sits in my account, untouched. Using Lucien's money feels wrong, like accepting payment for services rendered.Leo sits beside me, nose pressed to the window during takeoff. "We're flying, Chloe! We're really flying!"His excitement is infectious. I smile despite my exhaustion. "We are. Next stop, London."He falls asleep an hour into the flight, his head against my shoulder. I stroke his hair and think about how much my life has changed. Six months ago, I walked out of my marriage with nothing. Now I'm flying to London with a child, pregnant with another, starting a prestigious job.It should feel like victory. Instead, it feels like survival.The immigration officer at Heathrow stamps my work visa without issue. "Welcome to the United Kingdom,

Four weeks after Blair's visit, I'm settling into London life. Leo starts school and loves it. I interview nannies for after the baby arrives and hire Maureen, the Irish woman with warm eyes and endless patience. I begin working with my design team, planning my first collection for London Fashion Week.My life has rhythm and purpose. I wake early, make Leo breakfast, walk him to school. I spend mornings at the studio, designing and collaborating with my team. Afternoons I rest, following doctor's orders. Evenings are for Leo—homework, dinner, stories before bed.It's a good life. A full life.But something is missing, and I know exactly what it is.One morning, I wake to nausea that has nothing to do with pregnancy. Today would have been my five-year wedding anniversary with Travis. Instead, I'm divorced, pregnant with another man's baby, living in a foreign country.I should feel triumphant. Instead, I feel unmoored.I call Tessy, needing to hear a familiar voice. She answers on the

I don't sleep that night. I lie in the hotel bed, replaying the conversation with Lucien, staring at the check, feeling the baby kick.By morning, I'm exhausted and no closer to an answer.My flight to London is at six PM. I have one day left in New York.I'm packing when there's a knock at my door. Through the peephole, I see Riley.I open the door. "Riley? What are you doing here?""We need to talk. Can I come in?"She looks agitated, clutching her phone like it holds the secrets of the universe."Of course." I step aside.Riley comes in, sees my half-packed suitcase, and sits on the bed. "You're really leaving.""My flight is tonight.""Before you go, you need to hear this. I debated telling you, but I think you deserve to know the truth.""About what?""About Lucien and Sofia Conti."My stomach drops. "I don't want to hear about her.""You need to. Because everything you think you know is wrong."I sit in the chair by the window. "I'm listening."Riley takes a deep breath. "I have

We spend the next three days together. Not living together, not rushing. Just talking. Rebuilding trust brick by brick.Lucien takes me to breakfast every morning. We walk through Central Park despite my ungainly waddle. We talk about everything—his childhood, mine, our fears, our hopes, what we want for our daughter.He tells me about building Cross Luxury Group from nothing after his father's bankruptcy. About the pressure to succeed, to prove he wasn't his father's failure. About the mistakes he made along the way, including Vittorio Conti.I tell him about my marriage to Travis. The slow erosion of self. The way I learned to make myself small. How it felt to walk out with nothing and have to rebuild my entire identity.We're learning each other. Really learning. Not in crisis, not in passion, but in the quiet moments where real intimacy is built.On the third evening, we're having dinner at a quiet Italian restaurant—ironic, given everything—when Lucien reaches across the table an

Two weeks after Charlotte's birth, we settle into a rhythm. Sleepless nights and endless feedings. Diaper changes and spit-up. The beautiful, exhausting chaos of new parenthood.But we do it together.Lucien gets up for the three AM feeding. I handle the five AM one. We take turns, we support each other, we figure it out as we go.Leo is smitten with his baby sister. He holds her carefully, sings to her, tells her stories about London and New York and all the places they'll go together."She's so small," he whispers. "I'll protect her forever.""You're a good big brother," I tell him."The best big brother," he corrects.Blair visits every other day, learning how to be an aunt, how to be present without being overwhelming. She holds Charlotte and cries happy tears."I can't believe I almost gave this up," she says. "Being part of a family. It's the best thing ever.""You didn't give it up. You're here now. That's what matters."One evening, three weeks after Charlotte's birth, Lucien