|Casmira's POV|
Paris is everything they say it is. Breathtaking, romantic, dripping in old-world charm with cobblestone streets lined with lanterns that glow golden against the velvet night sky. Our suite at the Hôtel de Crillon overlooks the Place de la Concorde, and through the expansive windows, I can see the Eiffel Tower sparkling like a diamond against the skyline.
It's a dream come true—except I haven't had a chance to really enjoy it.
The last two days have been a blur of meetings and video calls. Emails flood in faster than I can respond, and reports pile up in my inbox. It's not that I can't delegate—Emily is more than capable—but I have worked too hard to let my grip loosen, even for a second. I can't afford to lose control.
I shift in the plush armchair, my laptop balanced
