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She’d known he’d have trouble either understanding her or believing her, either way he clearly needed more of an explanation.

‘Five years ago I was studying a graduate degree at the ENS in Sciences, specialising in mathematics and computer sciences. Please don’t look at me as if I’ve just sprouted a second head. It’s...patronising and infuriating.’

‘I’m not being patronising,’ he said defensively. ‘I have clearly only known you as a successful humanities entrepreneur. The computer science thing doesn’t seem to fit.’

‘I happened to be very good at “the computer science thing”, thank you.’

‘Which begs the question,’ he replied, as if she had only proved his point.

‘As a child, it became quite clear that I had an affinity with computers and technology. To me, they always made sense. There was clarity in ones and zeros, an unwavering logic. I liked the challenge they presented and revelled in working around and within them to get what I wanted. As part of my degree at ENS, I knew that I would have to find an internship to support my education and thought that Paquet Industries would be perfect.’ She had told herself that then, and told Loukis the same lie now. But, really, it had been more than that—she just didn’t want to open that painful truth to herself, or Loukis.

‘I had been using their workshops to work on my dissertation project. One of the senior managers had seen what I was working on and the next thing I knew it was taken from me. Used in a...used in a very different way from what I had intended.’ She felt the familiar rush of anger, the ache of her father refusing to speak to her.

‘Because you had signed an intellectual property waiver for work done while interning.’

Surprised, she looked up at Loukis, immediately appreciating the quick mind that had made his own company such a shocking international success.

‘Yes.’

‘I get how that must have been frustrating, but, what? This is about money? Recognition for your designs?’

‘No, it’s not that!’ She knew that was how it would have been seen had the news got out with no acknowledgement of the wracking guilt she still faced to this day. She couldn’t, wouldn’t share with Loukis what her plans had been used for, horrified by the sheer thought of his reaction, but she could try to make him realise why, could try to make him understand.

‘I...growing up with my father wasn’t...’ She took a deep breath. This was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. ‘He was a difficult man. Exacting, focused...’

‘Demanding?’ Loukis prompted.

‘No, actually. He wasn’t. Because he never really expected anything of me other than to be seen and not heard. He’d always wanted a son to pass on Paquet Industries to, but after me, my mother was unable to fall pregnant again. So, in a way, I became a representation of his failure, I think. I can only guess, because he hardly credited me with such an honest explanation or outpouring.

‘And in my childlike logic, I thought that if I could prove myself of use, if I could harness my skills for my father’s company he might... He might finally see me as worthy.’ She shrugged as if her innocent conclusion didn’t hold such a world of pain within it.

‘And Marc Moreau? Who is he?’

‘He works for the Ministère de la Jeunesse et des Sports,’ Célia said, trying not to flinch at Loukis’s tone.

‘The Ministry of Sport?’

‘And youth affairs, yes.’

Loukis frowned, as displeased. ‘Okay. Let’s try this again. Who is he to you?’

‘My ex-fiancé.’

‘I gathered that much, Célia.’

She inhaled the tense air between them, trying to fortify herself. ‘I met Marc at boarding school. He joined when we were sixteen and was...charming and playful. Fun. He could have had his pick of any of the female students, but he was only interested in me,’ she concluded with a shrug. ‘I was surprised, but flattered. I enjoyed his attention.’ It had been a gift even then, before she’d realised just how distant her father was and how desperate it had made her for affection. ‘He ended up at the same university as me and Ella. He’d wanted me to move into an apartment with him, but Ella and I had always talked about living together so I said no. But we went out, restaurants, clubs, parties. I didn’t really enjoy it—’ she could see that now ‘—my course required a lot of work, but he always seemed so disappointed when I would say no. Only after did I realise that the restaurants were always booked in my name, the VIP sections in clubs, the party invitations.’ And she felt like such a fool.

‘Over the four years we’d been together, he’d spent quite a bit of time with my family. He seemed to get on with my father, more than I did at least. He made a monumental effort with him. And I thought it was for me. Until I broke ties with my father. Until I changed my name. And somehow in his eyes, that made me a changed person. He refused to understand why what my father had done was wrong. Insisted that I try to make it up with him.

‘When I refused, he began to retreat. Telling me I’d changed, telling me that I wasn’t fun any more. He made me doubt myself, and it hurt to force myself to be with him, to keep a smile on my face I didn’t feel surrounded by people I didn’t know. Because I didn’t want to lose him too.’ She felt the ache building in her chest. Hating to admit such a thing, feeling so very vulnerable to tell Loukis this. But she knew that he deserved what little she could tell him. ‘Slowly, bit by bit he removed himself from my life. I didn’t notice at first, but then it would be days, or a week that I wouldn’t see or hear from him. Ella convinced me to have it out with him, if anything just to let him know how I felt.

‘It was awful. He said it was all my fault. The time and energy he’d put into me wasted. How he didn’t want a girlfriend—you see, I’d been relegated by that point—who couldn’t...give him anything. What use was I if I was not perfect?’

In that instant, she realised the truth of the past. As if saying it out loud had somehow conjured the shocking revelation that she had never been wanted. Not for herself. Only for what she could do and be for someone. She had been used by her father, by Marc...and each time she had failed to live up to their expectations, had failed to be what they wanted and in that moment she felt that she had never felt truly loved.

Loukis pressed a drink into her hands and she realised she was shaking.

‘And I demanded the same,’ Loukis said softly into the silence.


Tags: Pippa Roscoe Billionaire Romance