DREAMS CIME THROUGH

Elena's POV

"You wanted magic. I'm giving you a taste."

His words echoed through me, lighting up nerves I didn't even know were awake. I looked at him, unsure how to respond. The plane was gliding smoothly across the tarmac now, the wheels humming softly under us.

I didn't speak.

I couldn't.

But I knew he saw something in my eyes. He looked satisfied as if he'd won a small battle I hadn't even known we were fighting.

Then he added, colder this time, "Just a reward for being a good girl."

The spell cracked.

There it was again the real Justin. Cold, distant, untouchable. Just when I thought maybe something had shifted, he put the walls back up. Higher. Thicker. And I knew that was his intention.

And I let him.

I turned away, pretending to be fascinated with the skyline of Paris visible through the oval window. But inside, I was melting.

I was melting because…

This was Paris.

We were really here.

When the plane came to a halt, the doors opened with a hiss, letting in the warm European breeze. I stepped out onto the stairway, my breath catching in my throat.

The view was surreal. Soft clouds kissed the horizon, and the air smelled like luxury of fine perfumes, history, and something sweet and old.

Waiting at the foot of the stairs was a man in a crisp black suit, holding a placard with bold silver letters:

Mr. & Mrs. Shawn

I blinked at it, my heart doing this weird flutter thing. Mr. and Mrs. Shawn.

That was me.

I was the Mrs.

I tried not to look at Justin, but when I glanced sideways, he was already heading down the steps like he owned the world which he probably did.

We were ushered into a sleek black Lamborghini. I'd never seen one in person before, much less ridden in it. The leather was buttery soft under me, and the polished dashboard reflected the light like water.

I kept my eyes on the buildings we passed, each one more majestic than the last. People walked with confidence here, as if they, too, belonged to the beauty.

Justin sat beside me, silent, checking his phone occasionally.

I wanted to say something—anything. But the lump in my throat wouldn't let me.

My heart wouldn't stop thudding.

Because this was the exact thing I'd dreamed of when I was a little girl. And I hated that it was coming true like this.

Suddenly, a memory came crashing back.

Flashback

I must have been ten. We were watching a movie about a rich girl who got swept away to Paris by her Prince Charming. I laughed and told my mom, "The love of my life is going to take me to Paris one day."

She laughed, ruffling my hair. "Then you better pick one with a private jet, sweetheart."

I remembered promising myself that I wouldn't go to Paris until I was truly, madly in love.

End of flashback

And now here I was.

With a man who didn't even believe in love.

"Have you been here before?" Justin asked, eyes still on his phone.

His voice startled me. "No," I said, my voice soft. "Never."

He looked up. "You're quiet."

I gave a tight smile. "Just taking it all in."

He nodded, then returned to his screen. I stared out the window again.

"You'll like the hotel," he said after a while. "It's close to the Seine. View of the Eiffel Tower from the suite."

Suite. Not rooms.

"So… we're sharing again?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

He looked at me, almost amused. "We're married, Elena. That's the expectation."

I looked away quickly. My fingers toyed with the hem of my dress.

"Relax," he said. "It's a big room."

That wasn't what I was worried about.

But I didn't say that.

We pulled up to the hotel, and I swear I gasped out loud. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Ornate stonework, towering pillars, red carpets, chandeliers in the entrance. The doormen greeted us with reverence.

Inside, the lobby was even more stunning cream marble floors, golden lighting, glass elevators, and flower arrangements taller than me.

I could barely keep up as we walked to the elevator. Justin handed our keycard to the concierge and muttered something in French. Of course he spoke French.

The elevator opened directly into our suite. That's how exclusive it was.

I stepped out, heels clicking softly against polished hardwood.

It was breathtaking.

Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Eiffel Tower. There was a grand piano, a fireplace, and a balcony with velvet chairs.

And one bed.

"Wow," I whispered.

"I told you you'd like it," he said, walking past me and tossing his blazer onto a chaise.

I stood still for a second, absorbing it all. Then I moved to the window and pressed a hand against the glass.

"This doesn't feel real," I said.

"Get used to it," he said. "We'll be here for the next five days."

I turned. "Five?"

He nodded. "Unless something comes up. I blocked my calendar."

He'd planned this. Actually planned it.

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He met my gaze. "Because you've done well."

That was all.

A reward. A transaction.

I went into the bedroom and opened the closet. My clothes were already hung. Everything was perfectly arranged, even color-coded.

Still stunned, I walked back into the living area and flopped gently onto one of the velvet chairs. I watched him pour himself a glass of sparkling water and casually sip it like we hadn't just crossed continents.

"You're used to this, aren't you?" I asked.

He didn't look up. "To what?"

"Flying halfway across the world on a whim. Luxury hotels. Chauffeurs waiting with placards."

He looked at me now, his expression unreadable. "It's normal."

"Must be nice," I said, biting my tongue before I added, to be that detached from reality.

He set the glass down and walked over. "Dinner's in two hours," he reminded me. "You'll find something suitable in the closet."

I nodded, and he left me alone again.

I stared at the door after he left. I didn't know whether I was more overwhelmed or confused. But a part of me felt something I hadn't expected to feel on this forced honeymoon.

Excited.Not for Justin.Not for the marriage.But for me.This was Paris.

Thinking about what had just happened, I slept off. Hours later I was awake by a slight tap on my arm. My eyes still blurry I saw Justin in just a towel wrapped around his torso and water dripping from his hair. He looked like a demi-god