SANYA

My mouth dropped open as soon as I entered the lavishly decorated hotel room.

The honeymoon suite of the five-star Hillcrest Hotel in Paris was absolutely gorgeous, with a spacious living area that looked like it belonged to a modern princess’s quarters in her castle.

The king-sized bed was draped with soft satin-like fabrics in white and old rose. There was an elaborately designed gold bed crown behind the headboard that formed a canopy with cascading curtains of the same luxurious materials as the bed sheets and duvet.

The right side of the bed displayed floor-to-ceiling curtains that opened up to a nice garden-themed balcony where one can marvel at the spectacular view of the renowned Eiffel Tower.

Everything was impeccable… except for one thing.

There were no newlyweds. The groom never materialized because our engagement was broken around two months ago.

My eyes began to water as I reminisced that fateful evening when Jake and I had that awful argument, which had ended with me throwing the engagement ring at his face.

Stop it, Sanya! I literally shook my head to get rid of the dreadful memory. I began to question my sanity as I once again asked myself why I had chosen to go through with this Paris trip that was supposed to be for my honeymoon.

This is torture; an imaginary voice hissed into my ear.

Forcing myself to smile and ignoring the voice, I took a deep breath and headed out to the balcony. It was filled with picturesque plants and blooms that seemed to lessen the heavy burden on my heart immediately.

When my gaze lingered on the grand structure of the iconic tower of France right in front of me, as if it was just an arm’s length from where I was standing, I felt tears springing to my eyes again. A mixture of emotions overwhelmed me, threatening to make my knees buckle.

I held on to the glass railings as I looked on in disbelief. I was actually here. I was in Paris, staying at one of the loftiest hotels in the city with a grand view of the Eiffel Tower.

A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by another. I quickly brushed them away with the back of my hand. Instead, I focused on the fulfillment of this long-awaited dream of mine to travel here— even without the presence of the person I had always shared this dream with.

“That’s not my problem,” a deep, booming voice suddenly cut through my reverie, making my head turn toward the neighboring balcony. “Do your job and make it happen.”

His sharp-edged tone and harsh words were like a knife slicing through a beautiful painting. They rose above the sound of the breeze, the chirping of the birds that flew around once in a while, and the hustle-bustle in the streets below.

He was tall and handsome in a dark, mysterious kind of way, with wavy black hair and intense blue eyes. He was barking orders into his cellphone, pacing back and forth, seemingly oblivious to the beauty surrounding him.

“I didn’t want to come here, either,” he said, his thick eyebrows meeting in the center as he narrowed his eyes and his forehead furrowed. “It was Mr. Laurent’s request, and you know how much we need his investment.”

Despite his arrogant and grouchy demeanor, his enigmatic charisma made me stare at him. I couldn’t help shamelessly following the movement of his lips and zeroing in on their luscious appearance. I wondered how they would feel against my own.

“Yes?” his loud voice made me jump in astonishment as I realized that it was me he was addressing now. His eyes met mine, stunning me immensely, and I just froze.

He strode toward the railing that was closest to my balcony, leaning slightly over the edge, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it definitely made me feel nervous and excited at the same time.

I quickly raised my eyes from his lips to his eyes, blushing and feeling like a rabbit that was caught in a car’s headlights. I smiled with uncertainty, attempting to be friendly and neighborly. But he didn’t return it.

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

“Uh, are you talking to me?” I heard myself asking, wanting to make sure before I reacted.

“Yes, you,” he said with a hint of annoyance. “Did you say something? You were staring so hard.”

I was taken aback by his straightforwardness, which I found quite impolite and irritating. I had just arrived in Paris with a heavy heart and this is what I get! The nerve of this man!

“I wasn’t,” I answered defensively, trying to remain calm despite getting pissed off by my neighbor’s attitude. To think I was picturing him in a romantic light just a moment ago!