Novel & Cerita Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont

To the Rhodes couple, Louie Gautbert is someone they not only respect, but more of they worship not him but the money that he lends the two. “It is such a pleasure to see you are well Baroness Gracia, however my visit seems like it's a bit untimely since it seems like your family has an important meeting.” His dim eyes looked around the mansion and saw the tension in the air, until his gaze stopped at Veta who became on guard and fixed the piece of jacket that Moreau lent her. An upward curve formed on his lips.

She walked over to the sideboard and poured a glass of water, her hands perfectly still. "A plant? Who would dare?" Marquis Vincent stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. He was a man who smelled of old paper and sour wine, always lurking in the Duke's shadow. "It was your mare that charged the thicket, Evelyne. It was your flask that startled the Prince's horse. To the King's investigators, it looks like a botched assassination that you tried to cover up at the last second to save your own neck." Evelyne turned, the glass of water halfway to her lips. She looked at Vincent, the man who, in her past life, had funneled d’Astier gold into Alaric’s war chests while her father lay dying.

That left only five people in the private viewing suite — Vincent, Isabella, the mayor, his secretary, and the young woman seated beside him. “Ah,” Laurent said suddenly, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable. “I don’t believe you’ve met my niece, Mademoiselle Amélie Laurent.” The woman turned, offering a practiced smile. “Mr. Sinclair,” she greeted in flawless English, her voice soft, calculatedly demure. “It’s an honor. My uncle speaks of you often.” Vincent gave a polite nod. “A pleasure.” Amélie leaned forward slightly, her perfume sweet and cloying. “I hope you’ll find Paris charming… and perhaps consider staying longer.”

With shaking hands, Vincent runs his fingers on his mustache down to his long beard, repeating in his mind the name of the Island he has just mentioned. "Ile de Laurant..." he whispers softly as if chewing in the name of the island. She has inherited everything her mother Julienne Ralph Laurant - Davis. "She loves the chateaux in the French Island to..." her father once mentioned to him. How could he miss this! With feet rushing to run where she is, Vincent exited the bar after placing notes on the counter and drives right away to the New York mansion. He didn't waste another minute and arranged what he has to arrange to get to where Gabrielle is.

Trying to stand up, my legs feel wobbly but I manage to grab onto a chair before I fall and I turn my head. There, sat Austin Dechart with a smirk on his face and I could feel my blood run cold. "Hello principessa. Long time no see."

, she said lightly, reaching back for my wine. I quickly snatched the bottle away from her grasp and glared at her. I had no problems with sharing my wine, but the bottle that I held contained original Narcisse wine, and since I had managed to extinguish the Narcisse line with much help from Charlotte, I believed that the availability of the wine was going to dwindle very soon. She raised her hands in the air, as if to say that she had surrendered the bottle over to me. I glared at herbonce more before lifting the bottle to my lips and taking a huge swig of the wine.

The man before her seemed entranced. “Your reputation doesn’t do you justice, Madame Montgomery,” he said, his French accent rolling easily off his tongue. Alexandre Beaumont, the heir to one of France’s oldest banking families. Young, charming, and bold enough to meet Isla’s gaze as though he could read her soul. “Not only brilliant… but breathtaking.” Isla’s laugh was soft and measured, her voice floated like champagne bubbles. “Flattery is an easy currency in this room, Monsieur Beaumont. You’ll need a rarer coin if you wish to impress me.”

HAHAHA After having that morning joke show in the dining hall, I asked to Lucy to get me some extra food in the Kitchen and my excuse was that I was still hungry. She sighed and told me that I always eat too much. Well, that is true. Now, to find Mr. Ambroise. He's the mansion's Head Butler, Ambroise Vincent. The Vincent family are a part of the Valler organization for three generations now, and they usually become the Valler Head's Butler. Mr. Ambroise is very composed yet kind, he's been with in our Household ever since he took over his Father's job and he took good care of us. Me and Brother, us both.

His presence filled the space before he even spoke. “Mrs. Blackthorn,” he said smoothly, his tone refined, charming even. “I hope I’m not intruding. I do intend to come on time when it is meetings like this.” I gestured for him to sit. “Not at all. You have me at a disadvantage, though. I don’t believe we’ve met. And given your scent, I can tell that you are not from here, Alpha.” He smiled, slow and confident, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “Forgive me. Alpha Lorenzo D’Amaris. But I choose to go by Mr. D’Amaris when it is amongst humans.”

Lambert snapped. Before Bella could respond further, Alexander Moreau appeared, silent and imposing. His gaze swept the room, landing on Lambert, then Bella. “Problem?” His voice carried a weight that silenced everyone. Lambert bristled. “Your assistant insulted me, Moreau. I requested Château Margaux. I received… this.” Alexander’s jaw tightened. He took the glass from Lambert, swirling the liquid once before setting it down. “This is Château Pichon Baron,” he said coolly. “One of France’s finest vintages. If you consider it an insult, Monsieur Lambert, perhaps your palate is not as refined as you claim.”