Forever in the Past and Forever in the Future

Kas’s POV

It takes a lot of convincing, but! finally talk Bronx out of bringing James or Marco on our honeymoon.

He very begrudgingly agrees and only because, as a wedding gift, Henri arranged for one of his

warriors to be our personal driver for the two-week trip. His name is Francis. He’s not nearly as burly as

James or Marco, so! was skeptical as to why Henri would send him.

“Don’t let looks deceive you, Kas. Francis is Henri's right-hand man. He’s a technician. I wouldn’t want

to meet him in a dark alley,” Bronx says looking off into space, “Actually, you could probably learn a

thing or two from him when you're ready to get into weapons training. I'll talk to Henri."

I look at the unassuming man with short bleach-blonde hair, wearing a black suit and white dress shirt.

He's a chain smoker but somehow doesn't smell like cigarettes. Regardless of who he is when he isn’t

driving us around Paris, he is very polite and accommodating while he does. °

On the first night after dinner, Francis has to shoo away paparazzi and escort us quickly into the car as

a crowd starts to gather when we are leaving the restaurant. Bronx had warned me that the human

world is different, photographers may be aggressive and try to take our picture but I didn't realize it

would be twenty people ata time. He puts his hand on the small of my back and holds me close to his

side while Francis safely gets us to the sedan. More flashes go off trying to get our picture through the

tinted glass.

“Bronx, why are they so adamant to get our picture?” I ask watching them knock on the window

begging for Bronx to roll it down and answer questions.

“T'll show you in the morning, Baby,” he sighs, sounding frustrated.

In the morning, he shows me the newspaper the hotel brings with breakfast. Sure enough, there we

were on the sixth page. The headline reads ' Wedding Bells for Billionaire Mason?’ in smaller letters

below, it says ‘World’s Most Eligible Bachelor, Officially Off the Market’ The short article called him

mysterious and called me a petite bombshell, possibly an up-and-coming model. Maybe even an indie

rock star based on my unusual hair and eye color. They even try to guess how much he spent on my

wedding rings. There is a grainy picture of us having dinner in the restaurant. The next one is of us

leaving the restaurant hand in hand smiling. The next is Bronx looking mad, pulling me closer to his

side and Francis moving into the frame to protect us. The third was an extreme closeup of my wedding

rings.

"Why do people care? It’s not their business,” I growl a little, looking at the article. I'm sitting on his lap

munching on some blueberries.

"It's the human world. I’m known as the owner of a really big company. I try not to put myself out there

for the world to see. When humans don't see me out and about very much they become curious. They

don’t know my position in the werewolf world. Now they find out I'm suddenly in Paris with a beautiful

woman no one’s seen before. It’s big news for the tabloids. Humans are nosy.

They're curious about what someone like me does when they're not working, that's all," he says as he

kisses my neck.

"Think about it, what's a big, ugly, one- eyed lug like me, doing with an," he points at a line in the article,

"’ unidentified, up and coming bombshell of an indie rockstar model’ like you?" "Oh. Well, according to

this, you're letting me siphon all your money. Wait! Who would say that?!" I put the paper down in a

huff. 7

"They just make up crap to get attention, Baby. Ignore it. My corporate communications team already

has a press release out with the info we want people to know. People will be putting a name to your

face and if they do an internet search, they will find basic info that my team has put together. Your

name, fake age, where you were born, but that’s about it." |

I cross my arms to sulk. I don’t like the idea of people poking around trying to find out about me.

Lex chimes in, "Kas, they called youa model. I told you people would realize how beautiful you are.

Besides, there is literally nothing they can find out about you," she purrs trying to look at the bright side.

"Thanks, Lex, you're the best."

"Oh, I know." She says with a smug voice.

eek

Based on pictures and television shows I've seen about Paris, it’s beautiful beyond every expectation.

Francis knows all the shortcuts around the city and how to avoid crowds. We get to do so many cool

things: private tours of art museums and cathedrals, even the Palace of Versailles. Lex says we lived

there once, she has fond memories as we walk around.

Oh, and we don't just do one food tour, we do three of them. Three! One is just for pastries and

desserts, one is for cheeses, and the last one is wine and food pairing. I don’t usually like to drink, but

Bronx insists that to level up my cooking game, I need to understand different wine profiles. It isn't as

bad as I expected. With our wolf senses, I’m able to taste all the different flavors the sommeliers

explain and what types of foods they are best served with. They let me ask a ton of questions and take

notes on my little notepad. Bronx just sits back and chuckles watching me scribble furiously in my little

book. I probably won't drink regularly but at least I can plan for what should be served when I cook for

other people.

As promised, Bronx also takes me to the top of the Eiffel Tower. The view is

gorgeous. You can see the whole city. He surprises me with a dozen purple roses. We even get to see

another couple get engaged while they are taking in the sights. It is so cute! I can’t help myself, I give

the roses to the newly engaged couple. It truly is the city of romance.

"Lex, are you seeing this?” I ask as I look out over the city in awe.

"Kas, we've lived here three times. I've seen it all before," she yawns as she rolls her eyes at me and

goes to curl upin the back of my mind. '

We have to stop at Harry Winston Jewelers. Bronx tells me it’s a pretty formal place so I put on a nice

dress and makeup. The sales manager is very nice but has a nervous personality. I think he is

intimidated by Bronx's physical size. Anyway, they need my rings for the day so they can appraise them

for insurance purposes.

I look at my empty finger and frown a little as the assistant takes my rings away. Another assistant

comes over with another band for me to wear until I come back for my rings.

"Five carat platinum eternity band with emerald-cut diamonds, Madame,” the assistant says in a heavy

French accent, handing me the sparkly ring on a little velvet tray.

I look at Bronx quizzically. I don’t care how much money he has, if he bought this ring, I'm going to kill

him.

"Go ahead, Baby. It's a loaner until you get yours back tomorrow. Don't worry, I didn't buy it," he says

as he signs some paperwork. I swear I hear him say ‘yet' under his breath, but he denys it.

I pick up the ring and slide it on my finger. It's beautiful but not mine. It feels awkward and heavy. I'm

not going to complain though. I appreciate they have a substitute for me while they have my actual

rings.

We speak with the manager a little longer, discussing a necklace for Sandy's birthday. She is going to

be fifty, so Bronx wants to get her something special. The manager takes notes and lets us know he

will send pictures of sketches in a week.

As soon as we get in the car, I realize I forgot my phone inside.

"Oh crap! Bronx, I have to go back in. I'll be right back," I say, stepping out of the car.

"Kas, we'll send Francis in," he pulls on my hand as he tries to get me to come back inside the sedan.

"Bronx, the door is right there. I don't even need to cross the street. I'll be right back," I quickly give him

a peck on the cheek and jump out of the sedan before he can stop me.

I push open the heavy door to the store and walk up to the manager's desk. He's looking at me with

wide eyes and his hands in the air.

"Hello! I forgot my phone. I just need to get it b-. Is everything alright, sir?” I ask with my head tilted

when I realize he smells like pure fear.

He flicks his eyes behind me quickly. I turn around to see three masked men armed with semi-

automatic guns pointed at us. °

I slowly raise my hands in the air as well, "Oh crap.”

"Hey Randall, isn't that the girl from the society page?" One of the men says ina British accent. ©

"Yeah, I think it is. She married that MasonCo guy. Jimmy, grab ‘er. She's gonna be worth a couple of

bucks."

As he says that, alarms sound from all around the store. Heavy sheets of metal slam down on all the

windows and the door, blocking out the world. "Bronx...ummm...there's a problem,” I say, opening up a

mind link to him. "Kas, what the fuck just happened?" I hear him say in my mind. I hear pounding on

the metal security barrier at the same time.

"The store is being robbed," I gulp, “ There’s three armed men in here who want to kidnap me.”