Chapter 11: Echoes of Paris
1212 Words
Celestine POV
Mom, Dad, kailangan kong bumalik sa Paris,” I said, carefully choosing my words as I faced my parents in the grand dining hall. The evening light filtered through the crystal chandelier, casting a warm glow on their concerned faces. May urgent photoshoot ako na hindi pwedeng i-cancel. Alam niyo naman, I still have a contract to fulfill. Baka makasuhan pa ako kung i-breach ko.
My moom sighed, worry on her face. Hindi mo na ba pwedeng ipagpaliban, anak? Kakatapos lang ng launch. Ang daming pwedeng mangyari sa business ngayon, and we need you here.”
Mom, I replied, my tone firm yet respectful. Alam kong importante ang negosyo, but this is also my career. Naginvest ako ng oras at effort dito. Kapag hindi ko tinapos ang obligations ko, it will hurt my reputation, pati na rin ang pangalan ng Devereux.
“Hayaan mo na siya,” my father interjected, his deep voice breaking the tension. “Celestine knows what she’s doing. Pero anak, siguraduhin mong babalik ka. This is your family’s legacy we’re talking about.”
I nodded, offering them a reassuring smile. “I promise, Dad. I’ll handle things from Paris. May mga meetings na pwede kong gawin online, and I’ll stay in touch with the team here.”
My mom finally relented, though I could still see the worry in her eyes. “Mag-ingat ka, anak. And don’t forget, kung may kailangan ka, andito lang kami.”
“Salamat, Mom, Dad. I’ll make you proud.”
The moment I stepped out of the dining hall, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I needed to leave. This wasn’t just about the photoshoot or my contract. I needed space from Azrael and the storm of emotions he brought into my life.
Azrael POV
She’s leaving?” I asked Nicholas, my private investigator and an old friend, as I leaned back in my office chair. My voice was calm, but inside, a flicker of unease stirred.
Nicholas nodded, sliding a file across the desk. “Bukas ang flight niya papuntang Paris. Nag-book siya ng ticket kaninang umaga. Mukhang nagmamadali.”
I opened the file, my eyes scanning the details he’d uncovered about Celestine. Bachelor of Fashion Design and Merchandising from IFA Paris. Graduated top of her class. A celebrated model in Europe. These were things I already knew. But as I flipped the pages, the revelations took a darker turn.
Her stepfather.
Violence.
The scars she hid so well.
I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the file. “What happened to her stepfather?”
“Dead,” Nicholas replied. “Accident daw, pero may mga report na nagkaroon ng physical altercation bago nangyari. Celestine was hospitalized after hitting her head on a wall during one of his violent episodes. And there’s more.”
He paused, hesitating. “Nicholas, spit it out,” I ordered, my patience wearing thin.
“There was an attempted assault,” he said quietly. “But she fought back. Her stepfather nearly…” He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. “She doesn’t remember much of it. Her father your business partner covered it up to protect her.”
My chest tightened as I processed the information. Celestine, with her poised demeanor and radiant smile, had endured so much more than I ever imagined. And now she was running back to Paris, perhaps to escape not just me, but the ghosts of her past.
“Do you want me to follow her to Paris?” Nicholas asked.
I shook my head. “No. Just keep me updated if she makes any major moves. For now, let her be. But don’t lose sight of her.”
Nicholas nodded and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stared at the closed file on my desk, a strange mix of guilt and protectiveness swirling within me. Celestine was more than just my business partner, more than the woman I… No. I couldn’t go there.
Celestine POV
The following morning, I stood at the airport, my luggage in tow. Despite the early hour, the terminal buzzed with life. I slipped on my sunglasses and pulled my trench coat tighter around me. This was it. A new chapter.
As the plane ascended, I looked out the window, watching the Philippine islands fade into the distance. I closed my eyes, willing myself to focus on the future. Paris awaited me my work, my independence, my life away from Azrael.
When I landed, the crisp Parisian air greeted me like an old friend. The familiarity of the city brought a sense of comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. I hailed a cab and headed straight to my apartment, where my assistant, Amélie, was waiting.
“Welcome back, Miss Devereux,” she greeted with a bright smile. “Your schedule is packed as always. There’s a fitting this afternoon and a photoshoot tomorrow morning.”
“Merci, Amélie. Can you also make time for a video call with the Devereux team back in Manila? I want to stay updated.”
“Of course, ma’am. Anything else?”
“Yes,” I said, setting down my bags. “Send someone to pick up fresh flowers. I need to brighten up this place.”
As she left, I sat down on the couch, letting out a tired sigh. Paris felt like a safe haven, but I knew better than to think I could run from my problems forever.
Azrael POV
The days passed, but my thoughts remained anchored to Celestine. I kept myself busy with work, but every now and then, I’d catch myself wondering what she was doing. Was she thriving in Paris? Was she thinking about me?
One evening, as I reviewed some documents in my office, Marcus walked in. “Sir, Nicholas just sent an update on Miss Devereux.”
I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue.
“She’s resumed her modeling work, but she’s also staying involved with the Devereux beauty line. She’s been hosting virtual meetings and reviewing marketing strategies. She’s doing well, sir.”
I nodded, a small sense of relief washing over me. “Good. Keep monitoring the situation.”
Marcus hesitated, then added, “If I may, sir, why not just let her be? She seems happy.”
I looked at him sharply. “This isn’t about happiness, Marcus.
One night, as Celestine reviewed some documents for the Devereux beauty line, the silence of her workspace was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She looked up from her laptop, slightly irritated by the disturbance.
“Come in,” she called, her tone clipped.
Amélie, her trusted assistant, entered with a cautious expression. “Miss Devereux, you have a visitor.”
Celestine frowned, glancing at the clock. It was nearing midnight. “At this hour? Who is it?”
Amélie hesitated. “He didn’t give his name, but he said it’s urgent.”
Sighing, Celestine pushed her laptop aside and leaned back in her chair. “Fine. Let him in.”
Amélie nodded and disappeared through the door. Moments later, it opened again, and Celestine’s breath hitched as a familiar figure stepped inside. Her posture stiffened, and her eyes narrowed.
It wasn’t who she expected.
- Writer
