Chapter 476

Chapter 476:

The living room was stunning: polished floors, matte black fixtures, hand-carved wooden beams, and soft wool throws artfully folded over slate-gray sofas. I glanced at Fabrizio. “You really thought of everything. Thanks for sorting all this p>

“Not at all,” he replied with a smile. “You’re here to push the new line forward. You need a place that keeps the flow going p>

“I’ll keep refining the sketches I sent over. Some proportions still feel off p>

“No shop talk today,” he cut in, shaking his head. “Get some rest. I’ll take you to HQ in the morning p>

“Alright p>

I video-called Ashton and showed him the house. “Nice, huh p>

Ashton let out a noncommittal sound. “Where’s Fabrizio p>

“He just left. He picked me up at the airport and drove me here himself.” I added, “Should’ve asked him to stay for dinner p>

“Not a good idea p>

“I know. He seemed busy p>

“That’s not what I meant.” Ashton’s clean-shaven jaw looked sharper than usual. Maybe it was the light or the angle, but his eyes seemed darker.

“I know what you meant, and you’d be crazy to believe he’s interested in me like that.” I pulled a face at my new fiancé. “He’s rich, handsome, single, and let’s not forget the French accent that makes most women swoon. He can have anyone he wants. He doesn’t need to chase an engaged woman p>

“He’s a man. I’m a man. I know how men like him think. He didn’t have to pick you up himself. He’s a boss. He has chauffeurs p>

“He’s just being nice. I’m new to the city, after all p>

“If I had a new employee coming for work, I’d send a chauffeur p>

“Fine, fine.” I surrendered. There was no winning against him. “How about this? If he ever tries anything, I promise I’ll smash a skillet over his head p>

“Deal. Make sure you hit hard enough to knock him out. Don’t worry about hospital fees p>

𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝗮𝘁

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

Had the shift from fake husband to real fiancé made him feel insecure?

I changed the subject. Ashton tried to steer it back, but I deflected with questions about his day, and cut the call when he demanded something that would get me banned from all the PG-rated sites on the internet.

The next morning, I fixed myself a quick breakfast and went downstairs. Fabrizio was already outside, leaning against another glossy black car. I slid into the passenger seat.

“Morning,” I said. “I checked the route, you know. I could’ve managed on my own. You didn’t have to go out of your way to pick me up p>

“My place is on the way,” Fabrizio replied, easing the car into the stream of Paris traffic.

I unlocked my phone. There was a small avalanche of texts from Ashton.

Ashton: Morning.

Ashton: Had breakfast yet? Don’t be late for work on your first day.

Ashton: I’ve got connections in the city. Let me know if you need anything—bodyguard, chauffeur, assistant, whatever.

Ashton: LGH doesn’t have a hotel in Paris. If you’d rather not stay at Fabrizio’s, check into Le Meurice. There’s a suite under my name, all yours.

I sent a quick reply: Just heading to work now.