His driver picked me up at eight thirty on the dot, pulling up to the curb where I stood in my dress, heels, and coat. He opened the back door for me and drove me toward the Eiffel Tower. As the structure loomed larger, I realized we were close to Bastien’s apartment, but then we passed it and went straight to the tower.
I didn’t know where we were going.
When the driver pulled straight up to the tower, a group of men was waiting there dressed in all black, looking like a SWAT team even though they carried no visible weapons. The driver opened the door for me, and I joined the four men, who welcomed me in silence.
“This way.” One guy took the lead while the other three formed a perimeter around me, escorting me like I was the president with my own security detail. We approached the base
