The Book The Paris Wife Novels & Stories

•Cassie POV• The elevator chimed open and I stepped out of it, taking in the cool air from the room before exhaling slowly. I just couldn’t give Scott the satisfaction of making me feel uneasy whenever I saw him. Besides, I wasn’t the Cassie he once knew. The Cassie he broke. I’m Lauren Lewis now, wife of the richest man in Paris. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I walked into the small café. The place was neatly kept with only a few staff around, and a lady stood behind a marble-tiled counter, smiling as soon as she noticed me.

Aria’s POV I pushed through the doors of Marcellus before I could talk myself out of it. The hostess looked up with a practiced smile. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” “I’m joining my husband. Jason Hartley. Table twelve.” Her smile faltered for just a second…long enough for me to know she’d clocked the situation. The wife who wasn’t supposed to be here. “Of course. Right this way.” I followed her through the restaurant, past tables of wealthy diners who barely glanced up from their plates. The air smelled like money and secrets, and I hated every inch of this place.

She asked as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Just then, Paris walked out of the door and hugged the woman. They stayed that way for quite some time before she took off her hood. Her striking brown hair gave her out without having to see her face. “Triss. Jules wife,” “I thought they were on their way to the land of the cursed. Or lost,” “Looks like Paris had a better plan for his wife, who was her friend,” I said. We watched the women speak for sometime before walking back into the castle. Carla leaned her head on my shoulder.

The three hundred page book and makeup are still inside, but her chocolates and money is not. “Well, at least they did not take my book.” Natalia says grumpily and walks back home, - Natalia let’s herself into the mansion and walks walks straight up into room she shares with Noah. “I don’t know, we could hangout Thursday evening. I’d be free.” She hears Noah saying from inside. Apparently, he is not aware of the fact that that she had come in minutes ago. “My wife, uh. I don’t know, don’t want her breathing down my neck or anything.” Natalia heard her husband sigh as she gets closer.

Let her walk out feeling like she won something. Now that same sentence sat differently. Not like the final word of a woman who had lost. Like the quiet warning of a woman who already knew what was coming. And had chosen to tell me anyway. Something wasn't adding up. The woman I had been married to had been careful. Reserved. Always slightly apart from the world around her, like she was watching it from a distance she had chosen for herself. I had mistaken that distance for smallness. For a life that did not extend far beyond what I could see.

Typically, a morning like this would be foggy or at least misty, but contrary to how I felt, it seemed determined to be an idealistic day in Paris, as if it was straight out of a storybook, albeit lacking any shared glances between two people. Ever since the moment we landed in Paris, I noticed a shift in Alexei’s mood. He was more distant submerged in his thoughts I tried not to glance his way cause whenever our eyes met, he was avoiding my gaze. Ralph's hand on my thigh burned like lava as he looked outside. The driver approached a multi-storey hotel. The red neon sign gleamed as the car stopped. Alexei surprised her with many things today. The pills and the little freedom he let me have f

I was expecting a message from Hames but it instead a message from an unknown ID and it read: *** Hey, hey, hey, new 'wife'. That title of being a wife might not last for as long as you think because I'm on a mission to eliminate your husband. If you really love him and care about his life, you should return home because I'm in Paris right now, it'd make the job easier. I still want to have a little fun and not kill him on time, so you should return because you'll be tagged as a widow if I bump into him here in Paris.

“I am so sorry, I had no idea. I just started working as an intern here, so I don’t know much about Mr Grayson except that he’s a no-nonsense individual.” I give her a tight-lipped smile. “It’s fine—” Callum pokes his head in again, and clears his throat. “Mrs Grayson. Time’s running out.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m coming in right now.” The moment he leaves, Paris scoffs, clicking her tongue in distaste. “Sounds like you know this man, Paris,” I say, heading toward the second room. “I don’t.” “Are you sure?” “One hundred. He just rubs me the wrong way, you know?”