"It said she was worried that at your age, you still hadn’t married," I continue as if he hadn’t interrupted me, "and it also mentioned that it might be because of your relationship… with your chauffeur," I murmur when I feel both their eyes on me. "If you’re gay, I assure you I won’t interfere. I couldn’t care less."

Immediately, the chauffeur bursts out laughing in the small space, and I watch with slight fear as he nearly dies laughing.

"Stop laughing like an idiot," his boss threatens. "I don’t see what’s so funny about what this woman just said."

"Well, I do. Finally, someone noticed the suppressed desire I feel for you. I thought I’d have to hide it forever, but now that she and the rest know, I don’t care anymore," he replies, winking and earning a smack on the arm.

"Do you really think I’m gay? You know what? I don’t care what you think—especially not someone as ugly as you."

"Damn it, Nathan! Control yourself!"

"Like I said, I don’t care if you’re with him or anyone else. I’m not interested in you as a man," I say again. The chauffeur bursts out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. "I’m only proposing this marriage so your stepmother will stop worrying about your sexual orientation and to shut up all those people who talk."

"And about the perfume formulas—you have my word that I’ll give you as many as I can so you can destroy Oliver," I declare coldly.

"And how do I know you won’t marry me just to later claim you’re pregnant with my child and take over my company, then run back to your husband?"

"You don’t need to worry about that. Like I said, I’m not interested in you as a man, and more importantly, we won’t have any children. Our marriage will be strictly business. No feelings. Nothing like that."

"Why should I trust your word…?"

"Nathan, don’t push it," his chauffeur interrupts with a serious tone, shaking his head slowly. I guess he understands perfectly what I’m trying to say—that it’s impossible for me to have children because I’m sterile.

"Fine," he grumbles, "but what intrigues me now is why you changed your mind. Instead of just pretending to be lovers, you also want to marry me? You say it’s so I can silence the rumors about my sexuality, but honestly, that shouldn’t matter to you since we’re not close. What do you gain from marrying me?"

"It’s very simple. Today I found out that Oliver and his lover are expecting a baby, and that during the company’s anniversary event, he plans to ask me for a divorce and announce her pregnancy. I think the best revenge I can take is to make him believe I also cheated—and that I’ve fallen in love with someone else. And who better than you, his number one enemy?" I confess the plan I began forming after learning how many years Oliver had been deceiving me.

"Besides, by marrying you, I’ll have enough power to destroy my husband and reclaim my parents' lab. And even if I fail, I’ll be satisfied just seeing him lose everything he cares about—including that lab."

"Do you have a pen and paper?" I ask, shifting my gaze between both men before they can continue questioning my motives.

"Here. What do you need it for?" the chauffeur asks.

"To prove that I’m not trying to trick or mock you," I say, taking what he hands me and quickly writing down some components of the new perfume formula I was going to present to Oliver today.

"What’s this?" the blue-eyed man asks, taking the paper.

"That’s half a formula for a new product I was about to deliver to my husband," I say with difficulty. Just mentioning our relationship burns my tongue. "If you accept my deal, I’ll give you the rest. And even if your chemists try to analyze it, I assure you they’ll struggle to find an ingredient that combines perfectly with those." I add quickly, seeing a glint of greed in his eyes.

"And if I don’t accept your deal?"

"Then I’ll let Oliver humiliate me that day. But afterward, I’ll find another high-end perfumery—even if it’s in another country—and I’ll destroy both him and you. Because the perfumes I make are the reason Mon Parfum Lefebvre is the best in France. And you’ll have missed your chance to take revenge on him."

"If you accept my deal, meet me here in three days. If you don’t show, I’ll know I have to handle Oliver on my own," I declare with a courage I’ve never felt before—but that I’m forcing myself to draw on after everything I’ve endured in just a few hours.

I open the car door and step out without looking back, walking in the opposite direction of the man who could either be my salvation—or just a fleeting stranger from whom I’ll never get the help I so desperately need.