Page 164 of My French Love Affair

I drop my hand and glare at him, but the effect is completely ruined by the way he’s looking at me - like he’s having the time of his life just messing with me.

“Besides, you’re the one who practically invited yourself into my car that day. Maybe you were the one stalking me.”

I scoff. “Oh,please.”

But before I can roll my eyes and let it go, he smirks and tilts his head slightly, watching me with something dangerously close to amusement.

“What?” I narrow my eyes.

His smirk deepens.

“Well, I mean, now that I think about it… First, it was my car… then my family home… then myyacht…” He pauses, pretending to think for a long beat. “Seems like quite thecoincidence, don’t you think?”

My stomach drops.

“…What?”

Frederic lets out a quiet chuckle, running a hand through his effortlessly tousled hair.

“I’m just saying, if anyone was stalking someone,mon ange, it seems like it wasyou.”

I shake my head, laughing dryly.

“No. No, that was Jacques’ home, it was his party, it -”

Frederic laughs. Actuallylaughs.

“Oh,mon amour,” he says, delighted, his eyes glinting in the dim glow of the taxi. “You thought that was Jacques’ home?”

I blink at him, my brain struggling to catch up.

“…It wasn’t?”

He lets out another low chuckle. “How exactly do you think Jacques would afford a place like that? Monaco isn’t exactly known for its…affordability.”

I stare at him as the images of that night flash through my mind.

The house. The sprawling estate. The gold accents. The wealth oozing from every corner.

But Jacques had said…

Not wanting to give away just how confused I am, I shake my head and exhale sharply.

“Fine - maybe that was yours. But the yacht -”

Frederic lifts a brow. “Also mine.”

“No, it wasn’t. It belongs to a connection of Jacques’.”

He grins, looking thoroughly entertained.

“Yeah.Me.”

My head spins, and I slump back in my seat, stunned.

Holy. Fucking.Shit.

Jacques has been lying this whole time. To us.

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