Fated to the Alpha–And His Triplet Brothers

Chapter 103

Chapter 103: Welcome to Paris

*~ Hazel’s POV~*

After driving for what seems like days we finally reached our destination. I won’t lie...the city of Paris was very much alive. Vibrant. Buzzing with elegance.

As we drove through the streets, everything shimmered under the golden sunset. The people were flawlessly dressed, perfectly styled, like they’d stepped out of a Vogue spread. Flowers bloomed on balconies, soft music played from open cafés, and every corner of the city felt touched by magic. Even the stone pavements had character, like they held secrets of centuries past.

"Do you have any idea where we’re going?" I asked, turning to Cyrius.

He didn’t answer. He just pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of a massive, breathtaking building.

"Just follow me," he said.

I rolled my eyes as he stepped out, rounding to open my door like a perfect gentleman—as if he hadn’t just kidnapped me and forced me halfway across Europe. Still, I allowed it, stepping out carefully, clutching my babies to my chest.

We approached the entrance, and a guard stepped forward to block us.

"I’m looking for Mr. Alexander," Cyrius said coolly. "Pont Alexander III."

The guard raised a brow. "Name?"

"Tell him I’m Cyrius Salvatore."

That got the reaction he was looking for.

The guard nodded and disappeared. A few minutes later, he returned and silently pushed the grand doors open for us.

And oh my stars.

My jaw dropped.

The foyer alone looked like it belonged in a royal castle. Fresh roses filled every vase. Massive oil portraits lined the walls. Velvet and marble and gold—everywhere. It was like stepping into one of those historical romance novels I used to devour as a teenager.

We climbed stairs that seemed to stretch forever. I was already panting when Cyrius turned and smirked at me.

"Do you want me to carry you?" he asked. "You and the twins? I don’t mind."

at him.

a man—no taller than 5’1", round and heavyset with a thick beard and an unmistakable air

eyes on Cyrius, his eyes lit

barreled forward and hugged him tightly, revealing a crooked grin full of yellow-stained teeth. I instinctively turned my baby’s head away,

of man is this?" I

gave a polite smile. "Let’s just

turned his eyes to me.

said something in French—probably "darling" or "enchantée" or whatever Parisian nonsense

smoothly. "This is my wife. And my children. Her name is

blinked, giving Cyrius a look that screamed

didn’t flinch.

ick, but I kept it together. If Cyrius had given me that name,

and the two men sat me down before disappearing into a side room

that’s when

while keeping my eyes sharp, alert. This place was beautiful, yes—but I

looked like it had stood for over a hundred years. Maybe longer. Decades upon decades of wealth and

A little too curated.

returned, standing tall in

"you’ll be staying here for

He ignored my

ball tonight. The Pax of Paris is hosting it—an old alliance that governs this territory.

snapped

of the highest houses of

smiling now, proud of his plan. "I won’t be holding any official rank here, of course. I have my own

moved toward me, brushing a loose strand of

said smoothly. " bring your dancing

halfway across the world to Paris—far, far from New Orleans. Then he’d changed my name. Then he’d declared I was his wife and my babies were his heirs. And now he was whisking me off to... Ebola?

keeping the babies here?" I hissed, my voice echoing off the marble walls. "You want to do this in

turned calmly, as if reading from a script.

for your own damn sake! You think you’re happy back in New Orleans—problems this,

expression softened—just a fraction. "You and the babies aren’t safe there," he said. "Here, I can make a better life for you all. Don’t make

escaping, I’d have to play along—make him drop his guard. There was no way he’d let me go, not after everything he’d

"So from now on,

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