Paris In The Iliad Novels & Stories

(Trust me I’ve seen people do that in public. Suddenly her foot slipped and I grabbed her arm and pulled her up to me. I have never been this fast. We were too close and I was still holding her arm. Her eyes flickered to my lips for just a second before it met mine. I gulped and said, “We should go” Lilly’s POV:

Elara’s pov. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his grip tightened around my neck. I came to Paris to rebuild my life, not take a shortcut to the afterlife. I clawed at his hand, my nails digging into his skin, but remained still like nothing was happening, his cold glare piercing deeper into my soul like he was searching for the secret of the universe. “You've two seconds to convince me that you are not going to make a good fertilizer for my garden.” Those words almost made me wet my pants.

I was always going to end up here. In this street. With this man. With this small certain person between us who arrived with opinions and a grip like something permanent and morning light in her room and a father who already loves her more than he knows what to do with and a mother who is still learning and a garden that needs work and a city that receives them all without ceremony and keeps going. Paris doesn't stop for anything. But it holds everything. We go inside. The door closes behind us. The city keeps going. So will we...

“You sound reluctant.” “Oh, not at all. But when Matteo keeps leaving me like this, I do get lonely.” “Oh my, I’ll tell Matteo to spend more time with you.” Paris tried to catch a glimpse of Romilda through the mirror’s reflection. Maybe she could see her. Unfortunately, Romilda was blocked by a pillar. Paris did not dare turn around. She was too afraid. Memories of prison haunted Paris and bruised her pride. She did not want anyone to know what had happened back then. It was humiliating.

“…DARLING… DARLING… DARLING…” The plane’s engines hummed beneath them as Paris approached, the City of Light unfolding beneath the clouds like a dream Ellie and Amy had only dared whisper about in private. The long, turbulent months—the wars of legacy, the conspiracies, the threats, the endless dance of power and loyalty—were behind them, if only for a moment. The city sparkled below, bridges arching like silver threads over the Seine, streets winding with stories that had nothing to do with mafia legacies or political influence.

But with Hera being the most trustworthy goddess for him, one that he had loved for so long and lost, he had hoped a lesser punishment could be persuaded. As the carriage finally landed on the pearly streets, Parisa pushed the carriage door open, not even waiting for the footmen to help her down. Lillith grumbled, feeling her mother let out a harsh breath. “Why was the ride so terrible?” she muttered until she looked up at the sky. Hades put his arm around Parisa, who was now stunned, and watched what she was witnessing. The skys were black, lightening weaving in and out of the darkened clouds. Rain dared to fall but always evaporated before landing on the god and goddess’ head.

Paris was a city that had always carried a certain kind of reputation. Romance. Elegance. Power. But for us, it meant something entirely different. It was the heart of the enemy’s stronghold, the place where Livia had built her empire and, as we had just discovered, the city where Levi’s sister had been hiding in plain sight.

Everything seemed to be going well; that's what mattered at the end of the summer vacation. Windows closed, curtains were drawn, Judith stood there like a hermit and did not see the outside world around her. Stuck in her comfort zone, she preferred to ignore the hustle and bustle of Paris. She remained cloistered in this large house, overwhelmed with rage. Passing from room to room, the ticking of the great clock punctuating each of her hesitant steps. It was what happened each time a man gave her a final kiss. An imposed ritual, in a way. Eric was the fourteenth man. He left her without the slightest explanation and not even looking back on their past together. He had suddenly deleted himse

The beautiful moves Aphrodite made in battle amazed Claire. Menelaus, King of Sparta, almost managed to bring his sword to Paris's chest. If that happened, Claire would lose at the first level. But Claire immediately took the clouds from the sky and wrapped them around Paris' body. She then took him flying and returned Paris to the city of Troy. Level 1 finished. Continue to the next level? Without hesitation, Claire pressed the 'next' button. Level 2. The Adonis's Love. Are you ready to get started, Aphrodite?

The city hums outside, vibrant and restless. And for the first time since Gregory’s distant wave goodbye, I don’t feel the sting of his coldness. Here, in Paris, I feel seen. Desired. Cherished. Perhaps that is why my chest feels lighter tonight—as though the pain I carried from Aerithia has no place in this city of light.