Hello Everyone! I hope you all are having a great week so far. Here is another chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it. I've been pretty busy at work, so it's taking me a little longer to update. Sorry. As always, please leave me a review and let me know what you think. I should have another chapter out next week hopefully. Have a good night!

Fitz POV

After a long flight, Alexis and I finally arrived at our hotel, The Plaza Athénée, with a two-man private security detail in tow. We were greeted with the sweet scent of fresh flowers and the soft sound of classical music playing in the background when we stepped inside. The Plaza Athénée is a paradise for the affluent, with its gilded decor and lavish furnishings.

Three impeccably dressed men in starched shirts and polished shoes greeted us in the expansive lobby—two of them efficiently loading our bags onto carts and wheeling them away. I gesture to Alexis to handle our check-in as I reach out to shake the hand of the distinguished man who remains standing in front of me.

"Welcome to The Plaza Athénée, Monsieur Grant. My name is Mr. Devereux, and we are delighted to welcome you back to our esteemed hotel."

"It's a pleasure to be back, Monsieur Devereux. Thank you for the kind welcome," He nods in acknowledgment. "Your secretary, Madam Bender, informed us of your meeting this evening, and everything is ready for you. I would be delighted to show you to the private dining area where your meeting will take place," Mr. Devereux explained in a courteous and professional tone.

"Thank you. I would appreciate that." As we reached the elegantly designed restaurant, he led me to the private dining area reserved for us. The room was bathed in soft lighting, with a table set impeccably for the occasion. I looked around at the setting and nodded in approval, impressed by the attention to detail. "This is perfect, Mr. Devereux. Thank you for arranging everything so meticulously. I am certain that our meeting will go well," I remarked.

"It is our pleasure to ensure that your experience at The Plaza Athénée is exceptional, Monsieur Grant. If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to let me know," I nod in gratitude.

As we returned to the lobby, we engaged in some light conversation about the weather and the winter activities happening in the area. Before bidding farewell, Mr. Devereux offered me his contact information, reassuring me that he was available to assist me with any further requests.

After parting ways, I locate Alexis waiting patiently in the lobby. "Mr. Grant, we're all checked in, and our luggage has been taken upstairs. Do you want to go over anything before your meeting this evening?" I study the expression on her face, and it's obvious she's more interested in me than the meeting.

"No, I need to make a few calls and would like to sleep a little before tonight. I want to be rested. Let's meet up at about 5 pm. We can go over the final details then. In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy the onsite spa and bill it to the company."

"Yes, Mr. Grant. Thank you so much." As we step onto the elevator, she flashes me a smile. Her lips parted as if she had something to say, but she glanced nervously at our stern-faced security details and decided against it.

However, after a brief pause, she gathered her courage and said, "I just wanted to express how truly honored I am to be assisting you on this project and working under your guidance. This is a huge opportunity for me," she says gently placing her hand on my arm.

I reply, avoiding her gaze, "I'm thrilled to have you on board. You've done a great job so far. Andrew and I are both happy to have you." I have to avoid her beautiful eyes. It's one of the most erotic parts of a woman to me, especially Liv's. They keep me captive. The way she looks up at me with those big brown doe eyes of hers ignites a fire within me. I fantasize about what they will look like when she's underneath me, experiencing extreme pleasure. Shit. I need to talk to this damn woman before I lose my mind.

As we reached the hallway leading to our respective rooms, we walked side by side in silence with two burly men in black suits following us. We reach our doors, and I turn to her and say, "I'll see you about 5 pm." She nods and turns to walk into her room. I head into mine, leaving Tom and Hal standing guard outside.

These men have been loyal to the Grant family for years, once serving as my dad's security team when he ran the hotel and even briefly when he was the newly elected governor. Now, on my father's orders, they protect me. I don't need security, but I know their real job is to report my every move to dad.

My suite is decorated in the classic Parisian style, full of antiques and original artwork. It's luxury at its finest. I shed my suit jacket carelessly onto the chair as I go straight to the bar. After pouring myself a drink, I walk to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glamorous Montaigne Ave lined with luxury stores. An overwhelming desire surges through me to shower my little bunny with gifts from each one those stores, perhaps persuading her to unblock me. But, it doesn't take long for a pang of guilt to start creeping into my thoughts, reminding me that she is not the kind of woman that can be bought. Oh, how simple life would be if she was.

Despite my reservations, the idea continues to linger. There's no way I can leave Paris without gifts for my bunny. I mean, how could she not want gifts from Dior, Chanel, or Prada? Screw it, I'm going anyway, rationalizing to myself that a couple of modest purchases couldn't hurt. Just a few small things, nothing too extravagant.

But a problem remains. Once I return, I can't just show up at her door and drop a bunch of luxury shit at her feet, and she comes running back to me. I have to get her to unblock me before I get home. Use your brain, Fitz. What can I do to get her to unblock me? As I reflect on our time together so far, my thoughts drift to the night I spent at her house. I remember going into her refrigerator, and it was damn near empty. Then it hits me: food. I'll have food delivered. It's simple, but it's something practical that she can use. It's a way to show her that she matters and is on my mind, but not over the top. Then, when I get back and I'll shower her with a few gifts. Damn, your good Fitz. That is the perfect plan. Now, how do I arrange for the food to reach her before she heads to work? I need to call Carol.

I reached for my phone and dialed Carol's number. "Hello," she answers groggily.

"Carol, it's Fitz. Are you awake?" I say in a hushed tone for no particular reason.

"Fitz, it's three o'clock in the morning. Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, yeah, everything is good."

"What do you need then?" she replies dryly.

I hesitate before asking, "I wish I could ask someone else, but..."

"Just tell me," she interjects. As the closest thing to a mother figure since my mother passed away, Carol's bluntness is something I value. I take a deep breath.

"I need you to arrange a food delivery for Ms. Pope."

"What?" she exclaims.

"I need you to call a service and have them deliver an assortment of food to her. Can you do that?"

She lets out a sigh. "I'll do it when I get into the office."

"I actually need it done now. Before she leaves for work," I insist.

"You want me to get up right now and order groceries?"

"Please, Carol. I know it's not your job, but I don't have anyone else to ask. You know I can't rely on Andrew for this."

After a long pause, she relents, "Okay, Fitz, I'm getting up now. Anything specific?"

"Just meat, vegetables, fruit, healthy stuff. And a couple of blueberry muffins. She loves those. Also, I want you to include a note. I'll send it to you in a text. Set the delivery for 5:30 am."

"I understand, Fitz," she sighs.

"Thank you, I appreciate it, and I appreciate you, Carol." As we hung up, I took a deep breath and texted Carol Olivia's information. I'm relieved to have taken a step towards ensuring Liv returns to me.

Feeling exhausted from the long flight, stressing about this meeting, and feeling anxious about where Olivia and I stand, I need to rest, so I'm at my best. I close the blinds, undress, and slide into bed. Then my phone rings. I leap up, hoping it's Olivia, but it's not. It's Jerry.

I answer dryly, "What do you want?"

"Fitz, I need you to close your mouth and just listen. I have been trying to reach for damn near a week, but you have ignored my calls and visits. You need to know what will be expected of you tonight at the meeting."

'I know you have no faith in my ability to persuade the city council members, but your..."

"It has nothing to do with whether you can convince them to approve the hotel. It has everything to do with what you can do for them."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you want this hotel built to avoid failure for once, listen like you've never listened before. You will be expected to pay a price. I don't know what it is, but you will need to do what they ask.

"What in the world are you talking about? If you're suggesting I do something illegal, it's not happening. I'm doing this the right way."

"Then you don't know business. Do you think Rockafella got to where he was without cutting corners? Do you think Carnegie got to where he got without bending the rules? No. They all did what needed to be done. Now, son, I can promise you that you will get no hotel built in Paris if you don't do what is expected. I know these men, and I've dealt with them before. They hold the key to the city council approving your proposal. They need to become your best friends because this will not be the last time you will need to deal with them. If you do not take my advice, your failure will be your own, and I'm not coming to save your ass from the embarrassment. Don't be naïve."

Without responding to him, I disconnected the phone call, feeling frustrated at my father's words. I resent him and his advice. I am determined to do this my way.

As I get comfortable in bed, surrounded by a warm blanket in a blackout room, my mind returns to my happy place, Olivia: her picture-perfect lips, beautiful smile, and that body of hers. I wish I could hear her voice, hear her call my name.

As I awake from my nap, I fumble for my phone. The clock reads 1:30 pm, which means it's already 7:30 am in New York. I know she has received the delivery by now. Why hasn't she called or texted me? Maybe she unblocked me. I immediately dialed her number, and I'm still blocked. Fuck! What the hell? Seriously, I'm losing my mind. How am I supposed to fix a problem when I don't even know what it is?

I gaze at the room phone resting on the nightstand. I contemplate calling her from it, but what if she picks up and immediately hangs up on me? I don't think I can take any more rejection from her than I've already experienced. She has to unblock me. I need to know she wants to talk with me.

As I lay in bed, I reflected on why Olivia and I found ourselves in this predicament to begin with. It's the fact that she doesn't believe I want her and just her. How could she when I have a wife at home and have been photographed cheating on several occasions? Feeling disgusted, I pull the blanket over my head and doze off again.

After a hot shower and slipping into a tailored black suit, I stand in the mirror, adjust my tie, and run my fingers through my hair, ensuring every strand is perfectly in place. I pause and stare at myself; I'm still blown away at my gesture not moving Olivia one inch. I need to do better. I thought it was a clever idea, but I was wrong. With no prior experience charming a stubborn woman, I need to call in reinforcement. Pouring myself a drink, I retrieved my phone, dialing the only person who came to mind to assist me in this daunting task.

"What's up, Fitz? Any news?"

"Andrew, not yet. I meet with Mr. Bardot and a couple of other council members at 8 pm."

"You look at any of the sites yet?"

"No, I'll do that tomorrow before I leave. How are things going at the office?" I thought about telling Andrew what Dad said earlier but chose not to; I'm handling this alone. This is my deal.

"No change. The day just started. We're all on pins and needles waiting to hear from you. I can't believe you are going to take us international. I'm so proud of you, Fitz. We need this."

"I know. You'll be my first call once I have some news."

"So, why are you calling then?"

"I...um...need you to do me a huge favor."

"Yeah, of course. Anything I can do to help."

"This is not about the hotel. It's about Olivia. I need you to talk to her for me and get her to unblock me."

"What? What nonsense are you talking about now? Every day, it's something with you and Olivia."

"She blocked me yesterday, and I can't reach her. I don't know if she's okay or what's going on with her. I can't focus."

"You have got to be kidding me? Does this stem from the lover's quarrel you two had in the office? The one we all heard."

"Yes, and I need you to go to Olivia's house this evening and convince her to unblock my number. I can't take this silent treatment anymore. I do not like being ignored."

"You want me to go to Olivia's house and beg her to unblock you?

"Yes, I know it's a crazy idea, but you're the only one who can do it. She likes you. Take dinner with you as well. That way, she'll feel guilty about not letting you in."

"I don't think this is a good idea, Fitz. I don't want to get involved in your drama with Olivia. I like watching from the sidelines and putting my two cents in when it's unnecessary."

"Just do it for me please, Andrew. I can't have her mad at me anymore. I mean, I can't think about anything else but her. I'm going crazy."

He lets out a heavy sigh, "Fine, I'll go. But you owe me big time for this."

"Name your price."

"How about you get me those front-row tickets to the Knicks game next month?"

"Done. Consider it handled. As a bonus, I'll throw in dinner for you and a little honey of your choice at your favorite restaurant."

"Deal. But you better make it happen, Fitz. I'm not doing this for free."

"You won't regret it, Andrew. Just tell Olivia I'm sorry for whatever I did and want to talk to her. Butter her up like you do all the other women you meet."

"If I can't convince her to talk to you, and she wants nothing more to do with you, can I take my shot at her?"

"You always have to push it too far, don't you? Every single time."

He lets out a hearty laugh. "Joking. These are jokes. Lighten up. I'll get the job done. I can't believe you need me to manage your love life."

"Just help me. Be there by 8 pm. She should be home by then. Thank you, Andrew. I owe you big time. I got to go. Call me as soon as you leave her place.

"It will be like 3 or 4 in the morning your time when I leave her place."

"I don't care. Just call me."

"Fine. Where are you headed off to?"

"Shopping for Liv."

"I see. Have fun. Don't forget I'm holding you to that Knicks game, Fitz."

"I got it. Just do your part."

After taking another long look at myself in the mirror, I make my way across the street to Dior. The soft lighting and gleaming displays called to me. As I walk in, my mind is set on finding the perfect gifts for Olivia. I approach one of the impeccably dressed staff members and clear my throat, trying not to show the anxiety running through me. "Bonjour. I'm looking for a few gifts for a special woman in my life." I explained, a faint smile crossing my face.

The staff member raised an eyebrow and scanned me from head to toe. "Of course, Monsieur..." She says as a large smile crosses her face.

"Um...Grant. Monsieur Grant."

"Yes. Monsieur Grant. What exactly are you looking for and do you happen to know her sizes?" I hesitated for a moment, my brow furrowed in thought.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for or her sizes. I need to check some pictures of her to get an idea." With a nod of understanding, the staff member gestured towards a comfortable seating area.

"Please take your time. When you're ready, we'll gladly assist you further."

Sinking into the plush chair, I enter her name in a search bar and look over the images I found of her previously online. There are not many, but there are enough, and she's dressed impeccably. She's so beautiful. Focus on the task, Fitz.

After some deliberation about what photos I liked, I approached the staff again, showing them the images I found. "This is her. I'm looking for a mix of casual and formal wear that would suit her style. As well as, maybe, some handbags, jewelry, and shoes to go with the outfits." The staff members nodded in unison, their eyes bright with enthusiasm. I know that I said I would buy a few small items, but I can't help myself. She deserves the best, and I plan on giving it to her.

"Thank you for providing us with a reference." I settled back into my seat as the staff disappeared into the depths of the store, their trained eyes scouring the racks for the perfect pieces.

Time seemed to pass in a blur as I thought about what Olivia was doing at this very moment. Does she need anything? How is the studio coming along? I also wonder if Jake is hanging around. I hate not knowing.

Finally, the staff returned with various clothing, each piece exuding sophistication and charm. I carefully examined each item; some caught my eye as I imagined her wearing them and then taking them off for me. Other pieces fall short of my expectations. The staff noted my preferences and made adjustments accordingly.

Hours seemed to slip by as I meticulously selected the perfect ensembles, my heart aching with the desire to win back her affection. Once we settled of the outfits, the staff members sprung into action, their expertise shining as they presented a stunning selection of accessories to complement the chosen outfits.

I make my final decisions, and a sense of accomplishment washes over me. "These are perfect. Please have them wrapped in gift boxes and delivered to my hotel." The staff members nodded, their smiles warm and genuine as they ran my credit card.

"It will be our pleasure, Monsieur Grant. Could you provide us with your contact details for the delivery?" I swiftly jotted down my information and prepared to leave the store, feeling hopeful. Maybe these gifts would convey the depth of my feelings for her.

I make my way back to the hotel, and Alexis is there waiting patiently for me in the lobby. "I'm sorry I'm late. I was kept longer than I expected."

"It's not a problem, sir."

"Good." We head to the hotel bar, sit, and review any potential concerns the council may bring up in a couple of hours. I have an answer for everything. I can't see any reason why they would not approve our request to build here. No bribe will be necessary. I think my father is lazy and thinks offering bribes is easier than actually doing the work.

After finishing up with Alexis, I headed to the lobby at 8 pm to greet the city council members as they arrived. The stern expressions on their face gave me pause, but I quickly gathered myself and extended a confident hand in greeting. "Good evening, gentlemen. Thank you for meeting with me today," I began, my voice exuding assurance.

We were escorted to our dining room and exchanged pleasantries. Each of them listened attentively as I elaborate on the grandeur and uniqueness of the proposed Grant Hotel, detailing its luxurious amenities, eco-friendly design, and commitment to preserving the city's rich cultural heritage. I spoke passionately about my vision and its potential impact on the local economy and tourism. As I finished, I looked at the three men eagerly, hoping to see signs of approval and encouragement. To my initial relief, they do seem impressed.

"It all sounds quite splendid, Monsieur Grant," one of the men nodded.

"Certainly, the prospect of a new, high-end hotel in Paris is exciting. However, we must consider the existing hotel landscape here. There are already several esteemed establishments that cater to similar clientele. Are you confident that your hotel can carve out its own space in this competitive market?"

I maintain my composure, nodding thoughtfully. "Absolutely, I firmly believe there's room for a hotel like mine to thrive here in Paris. My team has conducted thorough market research, and we are enthusiastic about the opportunities ahead."

The men exchanged glances, their expressions growing more serious. "We understand your enthusiasm, Monsieur Grant, but you should know that not all council members may share our perspective," one of them said gently.

I feel a wave of apprehension wash over me. I had anticipated challenges, but now I'm starting to get nervous. As my mind raced, Dad's words echoed in my head, "It has nothing to do with whether you can convince them to approve the hotel. It has everything to do with what you can do for them."

I pause, looking at their faces, and they are definitely waiting for my response. "Gentlemen, how can I convince them?" I watch them exchange glances between themselves, their expressions unreadable. Then, one of them leaned in and spoke in a measured tone.

"Since we know nothing about you, Monsieur Grant, perhaps we could offer our support to your cause as a favor to your father, but of course, we would need something in return." My eyes widened in surprise as the true nature of the conversation became clear. I hate to admit it, but it appears dad was right. They want something, and it's not the excellent presentation that I gave them. Panic gripped my chest, mixing with a surge of anger towards them and my father, fucking crooks. As I struggled to maintain composure, a new conflict emerged: the internal battle between going home as a failure or becoming a criminal.

Deep down, a part of me wants to walk away from all of this. I never wanted this hotel shit to begin with. I was much happier in the military. I wish I could start over and do something different with my life as Olivia did, but it's too late now. At this very moment, I have to make a decision. Whatever I decide, each path will lead to a different version of myself, a different reflection in the mirror. "What are you looking for in return?" I asked barely able to hide the distain I have for them.

One of the men cleared his throat. "Well, my kids' college tuition is quite an expensive endeavor," he said with a pointed look.

The second man added, "It would be nice to be done with my mortgage payments finally, you know?"

The third man sighed, "My wife and I are celebrating our wedding anniversary in two months. A trip to a nice destination would be greatly appreciated."

I mentally calculated the steep price I would have to pay these crooks, not just in money but in pieces of my soul I'll have to give away. Yet, looking at the men before me, I knew they held the key to my aspirations. Andrew's words play back in my head: I can't believe you are going to take us international. I'm so proud of you, Fitz. We need this.

How can I go home with an outright no before it even goes to a vote? I'll look like a fool. Andrew would understand turning down the offer, to a certain extent, but no one else would, and I would be labeled a failure. I don't want my kids to think I'm a failure. I don't want Liv to see me fail, either. With a conflicted heart, I took a deep breath and reluctantly nodded. "Very well. I will see to it that your requests are fulfilled." The men exchanged satisfied nods, unaware of the turmoil brewing within me.

"Well, I think we have a deal then," one of them said with a hint of finality. "We'll get the hotel approved at our next council meeting next month, and we look forward to working with you."

As we concluded dinner, my mind was torn apart by inner conflict. The bitter truth of the compromise I just made is gnawed at me, but I can do nothing about it.

After walking them out, I make my way to the bar and seek solace in a glass. I feel like shit, and my heart is heavy with guilt and self-loathing. The plans for my hotel will be approved, but I'm not proud. I hated that I had to stoop to such levels, but failure was not an option, not when so many people were counting on me.

After nursing several drinks, Alexis appears beside me, concern etched on her face.

"How did it go, Mr. Grant? I haven't heard a word from you," she inquired, her eyes searching mine for answers.

"Good," I replied. I would not dare tell her how it happened. "They...seemed excited about the deal, and I think we have an excellent chance of being approved."

She furrowed her brow, clearly puzzled by my gloomy demeanor. "Then why do you look so down?" she probed, genuine worry lacing her words.

"It's nothing, just exhausted," I deflect, taking another sip.

She places her hand on my shoulder, "Mind if I join you for a drink?" she asked. I nod, signaling my consent.

As we sipped our drinks, the conversation turned to the hotel and its envisioned grandeur. Alexis's eyes sparkled with excitement, her enthusiasm contagious. I couldn't help but be drawn to her passion. "Isn't it exciting, Mr. Grant?" she said, her voice low and seductive. "We've worked so hard on the hotel project; this is huge."

I smile politely, realizing Alexis' intentions. I shift slightly in my seat, clearing my throat. "Yes, it is thrilling. The thought of our hotel being approved is indeed a great first step for us; I'm grateful for all your hard work and dedication to this project."

Her hand brushed against my arm, a subtle yet deliberate gesture. "We make such a great team," she purred. "I can't help but think we could be even better together in more than just a professional capacity."

I give a nervous chuckle, trying to maintain my composure. I shouldn't be drinking with her. "Alexis, your dedication to our work is commendable," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I value our professional relationship immensely, but that's it." I wish I could use the excuse of being married, but she knows I'm not the most faithful man in the world.

Alexis' voice lowered further, a hint of disappointment creeping in. "Oh, I understand, Mr. Grant," she said, her gaze dropping momentarily before locking onto mine again. "I just can't help but feel this connection between us. But I respect your boundaries, of course."

I felt a pang of guilt at the disappointment in her eyes. I reached out and placed a reassuring hand on hers. "I appreciate your understanding," I said sincerely. "The work we've done means a lot to me, and I hope we can continue to work together successfully, regardless of any other feelings."

She gives me a small, resigned smile, "Of course, Mr. Grant," she said softly. "I value our relationship, too. Let's focus on celebrating instead." I nod, grateful for her professionalism and understanding. My heart and body belong to Liv, and I won't compromise that for anyone.

As we continued to chat about the details of the project, the drinks kept coming. Hours seemed to slip away unnoticed as our conversation moved to more personal details about ourselves. I started to feel a hazy fog descending over my thoughts. I realized I'd had way too much drink while drowning my sorrows and celebrating success. It's time to call it a night. Also, Andrew should be arriving at Olivia's anytime now, and I'm dying to know what's happening. "Well, I think it's time for me to head up to my room," I announced, unsteadily pushing myself up from my seat.

Alexis looked up at me with concern, her gaze lingering too long. "I should probably head up too; we have a busy day tomorrow."

With a slight nod, we made our way to the elevator. As we arrived on our floor and went to our doors, she said, "Oh, Mr. Grant, I was wondering if I could grab some of the architectural designs from you. I want to look over them in the morning, and seeing the state you're in now, I certainly wouldn't want to bother you in the morning." I hesitate, my mind muddled by the alcohol, and I find myself nodding absentmindedly w unlocking the door to my room.

Once inside, I pointed to the paperwork on the desk. "I'm going to head to bed; just let yourself out."

I hear her say "okay" as I walk towards the bedroom never looking back. I flopped onto the bed; my head fucking spinning. I can hear her rifling through the papers in the other room as I close my eyes.

I laid there for what felt like just a few minutes before I began to feel the bed moving. As I open my eyes, I see Alexis making her way up my body to mount me in nothing but her panties. She says, "Mr. Grant, I promise I'll make it a night you won't forget."

My heart begins to pound in my chest, and I shake his head weakly. "Alexis, what are you doing? No, you need to leave. I can't do this," I murmured, attempting to convey my reluctance.

"You can," she insisted, her voice edged with determination, and she started to kiss me and remove my clothing. "I'd never tell." Her insistence escalated, her actions becoming forceful.

Panic overwhelmed me, my heart racing as I fought to push her away. Alexis, whom I had once trusted implicitly, now appeared transformed before my eyes. Her once reliable professionalism faded into a murky haze as I saw a side of her I never thought possible.

As I pushed her off of me, frustration and desperation drove me to exert more force than I had intended, resulting in her tumbling off the bed. The sickening collision of her head against the unforgiving edge of the nightstand echoed through the room, creating a chilling moment.

As I collect myself, I lean over to look for her. Time seemed to stop as I processed the sight before me—Alexis lying on the floor with her eyes closed. In my drunken haze, my heart stopped as I watched her lie motionless on the carpet, a pool of crimson starting to gather beneath her head. "No, no, no, no, no, no," I muttered, my hands shaking as I catapulted to the floor, reaching out to check her pulse, desperately hoping for any sign of life. "Tom! Hal!"