Page 91 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
So… it’s official. You’ve made it to the inner circle of madness.
Here are the details for the Paris trip:
•Flight Time: 13:45, Friday
•Airport: Stansted (Private Terminal – instructions attached)
•Driver: Booked. Pick-up from your flat at 11:00 sharp (I gave them your postcode—don’t kill me if they arrive early)
•Luggage Limit: Technically there isn’t one, but I’d avoid a full trunk of outfit changes unless you plan to seduce the French government.
Now… the fun bit.
Your hotel room has been confirmed as adjoining to Mr Dubois’s suite. (Yes, I asked twice.) Apparently, it’s for “workflow efficiency”—whatever helps him sleep at night.
Please behave. Or don’t. Just leave breadcrumbs for me in case I need to rescue you.
Bon voyage,
Allison Durant
Chief Handler of Dubois Drama™
Dubois Enterprises
I read it three times, but the words didn’t change.
Was I excited about travelling to Paris? Yes.
Did I trust Mr Dubois? Absolutely not.
There was no itinerary for the meetings. No structured plan for the four-day trip. That was something I’d need to raise with the odious man himself when I saw him.
I fired Allison an email back, thanking her for the details—but it didn’t stop the low hum of impending doom. The whole thing felt off.
Still, I tucked it all to the back of my mind and started making a list of what I’d need to pack.
Whether I liked it or not, I was going to France.
?? ?? ??
Friday came too quickly, but I managed to get some more information from Allison.
Tonight was an introduction dinner. Saturday morning was the presentation. Sunday and Monday, however, were blank—time carved out in case anything went wrong.
I glanced at my suitcase. I’d packed a mixture of outfits to suit the occasion: casual, professional, and elegant. I was hoping for at least one free day to explore the city.
Movement caught my eye.
A long, sleek black car pulled up.
I grabbed my suitcase and keys and rushed to the lift.
By the time I reached the front door, Garrett was already waiting. Mr Dubois had sent his driver instead of the usual service we used.
Just as I unlocked the door, Garrett pulled it open for me and took the case from my hand.
“Good to see you again, Ms Hart,” he said with a wry smile.
