Chapter 355 The Flight to Paris

Chapter 355: Chapter 355 The Flight to Paris

Tiffany’s POV

I stormed out of Sebastian’s office with my stomach twisting into knots, so I ducked into the restroom to collect myself.

I’d just finished splashing cold water on my face and was reaching for the door when two familiar voices drifted in from the corridor.

Emilia. And my brother.

I froze.

"So where did Fynn run off to that keeps him gone a whole month?" Emilia asked.

Then Sebastian’s low voice: "Paris."

Paris. France.

The word hit me like ice water.

A whole month. In the City of Love, no less. What if he met someone there? What if some elegant French girl in a little black dress swept him off his feet while I sat at home, chewing my nails and pretending I didn’t care?

I know I’m impulsive. Everyone in this pack reminds me daily, as if it’s some fatal flaw stitched into my bones.

But the truth is, I’ve loved Fynn for as long as I can remember. When he was tangled up with Willow, I was gutted, but my pride wouldn’t let me show it. So I buried it. I told myself I didn’t care, and I almost believed the lie.

This time, though, he was single. Free. And for once in my life, I wanted to fight for myself.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

I booked the first flight and scribbled a note for Mila so no one would send out a search party. Then I grabbed my suitcase and bolted for the airport before anyone could talk sense into me.

The flight was long and sleepless. By the time I stepped into the arrivals hall, I was exhausted, wired, and buzzing with nerves.

I spotted him immediately.

Fynn. Waiting for me.

But the look on his face wasn’t the warm, surprised smile I’d spent nine hours imagining. No. It was cold. His jaw was set, his eyes dark and sharp with anger.

My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase.

My heart, which had been floating somewhere near the ceiling, plummeted straight through the floor.

Fine. If he was going to look at me like that, I’d salvage what little dignity I had left.

I lifted my chin, pretended I hadn’t seen him, and strode past as if he were a stranger.

I made it exactly two steps.

Fynn’s hand shot out and closed around my wrist, hauling me back. "Tiffany. Where do you think you’re going?"

I plastered on my brightest, breeziest smile. "Oh, what a coincidence, Fynn! Are you vacationing in Paris too? Small world, isn’t it?"

Without a word, he produced a ticket and held it right under my nose. "I bought you a seat on this afternoon’s flight home. You’re turning right back around. Now."

I folded my arms and refused to take it. "I’m not going anywhere. I came here to travel, to see the sights. I just landed, and you’re already shoving me out the door?"

Fynn exhaled through his nose, the sound heavy with fatigue. "Sebastian called me. He told me you ran away from home and flew all the way here to find me. He asked me to pick you up and put you on a plane back."

Of course. Of course he did.

Damn you, Sebastian. My brother kept me on the shortest leash imaginable. I’d left a note telling everyone where I was going, and still he couldn’t resist. He had to reach across an entire ocean to haul me back, as if I were a fragile glass doll that would shatter the moment I stepped out from under his watch.

I squared my shoulders and lied. "Well, that’s just a big misunderstanding. I’m here as a tourist, not a runaway. My brother’s being dramatic, as usual."

Fynn dragged a weary gaze over me. "Tiffany. I’m tired. I came here to be alone. I don’t need you chasing after me. I don’t need company. I don’t need any of this."

I really looked at him then.

His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction. His jaw was shadowed with stubble he clearly hadn’t touched in days. His eyes were puffy too, the telltale sign of a man who’s been drowning himself in liquor night after night.

Did he really love Willow that much? Enough to let himself fall apart over her?

But who was I to judge? I’d flown across half the world for love too, hadn’t I? And look where that got me. Deported before my suitcase wheels had even stopped spinning.

I decided to stop playing games. If I was going down, I’d go down swinging.

"I don’t want to go home," I said, lifting my eyes to his. "I came all this way just to find you. I’ve seen you for five minutes. I can’t just turn around and leave now."

"Then what exactly do you want?" Irritation edged his voice.

"I have something to tell you!"

For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then he sighed, took my hand, and started pulling me toward the exit.

"Fine. We’ll find somewhere to talk. And after you’ve said your piece, you’re getting on that plane. Deal?"

He took me to a Michelin-starred restaurant and requested a private room. He ordered without even glancing at the menu, which I tried not to read too much into.

The door clicked shut, sealing us in quiet elegance, crisp white linen, and soft candlelight. Fynn’s expression remained thunderous.

"Go on," he said flatly. "I’m listening."

"I know about you and Willow," I said.

"And?"

"Don’t be sad over her. She’s not worth it, Fynn. She never was."

"I’m not sad."

I leaned forward, my heart in my throat. "Stay with me. I would never betray you. Not ever. I swear it."

Fynn let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You think love is that simple? That I can just slot in any warm body sitting across from me? If I did that, how would I be any different from Willow?"

"I’ve liked you for the longest time," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Don’t tell me you never noticed."

"But I..." He paused, and I braced myself. I knew him well enough to recognize the look of a man about to say something designed to wound, something sharp enough to send me running.

I steeled myself for the blow.

Instead, he said quietly, "I just got out of a relationship. I’m not ready to start anything new."

Relief and hope bloomed in my chest at once.

I grinned. "That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting. However long it takes, I’ll wait for you."