All Chapters of The Billionaire's French Kiss : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lena For one second, I wondered if I had actually done it. I had. I was kissing him. The realization barely had time to register before everything inside me seemed to tilt. His closeness. The warmth between us. The impossible fact that I had actually crossed the room and done something I had been too afraid to do for years. It felt reckless. It felt completely unlike me. And somehow, it felt like exactly what I needed. It was supposed to be quick. Stupid. A reckless little kiss because Maya had dared me to prove that I could stop wondering whether men found me attractive and simply choose for myself. I had told myself it would mean nothing. A few seconds of courage, a story Maya and I could laugh about later, and then I would return to my carefully controlled life. But the moment my lips touched his, every sensible thought vanished. For those first few seconds, I didn't think about the room. I didn't think about the people. I didn't think about Daniel. I didn't think

“Lena.” Maya’s voice pulled me out of sleep. I opened one eye. She was standing beside the bed with her phone in her hand and an expression I had learned to distrust. “What?” “Don’t panic.” I immediately sat up. “Why would you say that?” “Because I think you just kissed a billionaire.” I stared at her. For a second, I thought I was still dreaming. Then she turned the phone toward me. A video was playing. My video. The room from last night appeared on the screen, crowded and glittering and impossibly expensive. The camera shook as whoever had filmed it tried to focus. Then I saw myself. The blue dress. My hand against his shoulder. His face. And then— The kiss. I snatched the phone from Maya. “No.” “Yes.” “No.” “Lena—” “How did someone even film that?” Maya shrugged. “There were hundreds of people there.” I watched the video again, hoping that somehow it would look different the second time. It didn't. My stomach tightened. “How long has this been online?”

LenaI woke before the alarm.For several seconds, I didn't know where I was.The room was still dark, the curtains drawn tightly across the windows, the faint hum of Paris moving somewhere beyond the walls.Then I remembered.The kiss.The photographs.The messages.Daniel.Alexandre.My eyes opened fully.I stared at the ceiling.I had come to Paris because I wanted to forget.That had been the whole point.I wanted distance from Daniel, from the betrayal, from the endless questions I had been asking myself since the night everything I believed about my relationship had fallen apart.I wanted to walk through streets where nobody knew my name.I wanted to wake up without wondering who he had chosen over me.I wanted to feel like myself again.Instead, I had kissed a stranger.A stranger who happened to be Alexandre Laurent.A billionaire whose face was apparently recognized everywhere.And now half of Paris seemed determined to discover mine.I pushed myself upright.My phone sat on

AlexandreThe report arrived at eight minutes past eight.I was already in my office.I had been there since six-thirty.Sleep had become increasingly difficult over the past few nights, which was irritating because I had never needed much of it to function. Four or five hours had always been enough. I could wake before dawn, run through the day's schedule, read financial reports over coffee, sit through six consecutive meetings, and still have enough energy to dismantle a bad proposal before lunch.Lately, however, my mind had been returning to the same inconvenient memory.A crowded ballroom.A flash of blue.A woman's hand against my chest.Her mouth against mine.The startled look in her eyes afterward.And then the sound of her footsteps disappearing down a corridor.I had told myself it was nothing.A moment.An impulsive kiss.A strange encounter between two strangers who would probably never see each other again.That explanation had been convenient.It had also stopped being

LenaComing home was supposed to make things easier.At least, that was what I had told myself.Paris had been beautiful, but it had also been complicated.There had been the kiss.The video.The attention.Alexandre.The messages.And everything I had tried so hard not to think about.Home was supposed to be different.Quiet.Familiar.Safe.But after three days, I was beginning to realize that familiar didn't always mean safe.I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail while my phone rested on the dresser behind me.My suitcase was still half unpacked.The blue dress hung over the back of my chair.I had brought it home from Paris without knowing why.I still hadn't put it away.Every time I looked at it, I remembered that night.The ballroom.The music.Maya's dare.Alexandre standing near the window.The way he had looked at me.The kiss.I quickly looked away from the dress.I didn't want to think about him.I had enough things to think about.Li