The morning sun cast a golden glow over Paris, the soft light illuminating the elegant streets as Serena stepped out of the luxurious hotel.
The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the faint scent of warm pastries from a nearby bakery.
She had barely gotten any sleep the night before. Between the weight of the media scandal back home and her conversation with Emma, her mind had been restless.
But she had forced herself to push it aside, at least for now. She was in Paris, and she had business to take care of.
And part of that business, as arranged by Phillippe Smith, was experiencing the beauty of the city before she left.
She spotted a sleek black car waiting just outside the entrance, and the driver quickly stepped forward, opening the door for her.
“Good morning, Ms. Winthrop,” he
