Chapter 51: The Clockwork Cage

Kieran’s POV

The high-society galas my father dragged us to in Paris weren’t about celebration. They were business deals hidden behind silk dresses, expensive champagne, and fake smiles.

The grand ballroom inside the Hôtel de Crillon looked beautiful. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, marble pillars stretched across the room, and rich people stood in small circles talking about money, hockey, and power like they were discussing stocks instead of people.

I stood near the balcony doors with a glass of sparkling water in my hand. My black tuxedo felt too tight around my chest, like it was choking me. Every muscle in my body was tense as I kept my eyes moving around the room.

Mostly because I was standing close to my mother.

She looked beautiful tonight in her emerald green gown, but her smile was empty. Completely fake. The diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkled every time she moved her hand, and all I could think about was how my father probably bought it after cheating on her.

A few feet away, Richard Hampton laughed loudly with a group of French hockey scouts, acting like the perfect husband and father.

The sight made me sick.

“Kieran, darling.” My father’s voice cut through the noise as he walked toward us.

I turned slowly, already annoyed. But then I noticed the girl walking beside him.

She looked around my age. Blonde hair. Sharp blue eyes. Expensive ivory dress. The type of girl who clearly grew up around wealth and private schools.

“Amelia” my father said smoothly to my mother. “Look who I ran into.”

My mother straightened immediately.

“This is Chelsea Vance. Her father runs the European scouting syndicate. Chelsea just returned from Switzerland for the upcoming summer break.”

Chelsea smiled politely and shook my mother’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Hampton.”

Then she looked at me. “And you must be Kieran. My dad hasn’t stopped talking about your hockey stats all evening.”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied shortly.

“Chelsea is going to join us at the lake house this summer,” my father continued casually.

My stomach tightened immediately.

His hand landed heavily on my shoulder, his fingers pressing hard enough to feel like a warning.

“I’ve already spoken with her father,” he continued. “A strong relationship between our families would be good for both sides. Kieran, take Chelsea out to the terrace and get her a drink.”

There it was. The order hidden inside polite words. Play along Or I ruin everything. Anger rose inside my chest instantly, but before I could speak, I looked at my mother. She gave me a tiny shake of her head to go ahead.

For her sake, I swallowed my anger. “Of course,” I muttered tightly. “This way.”

We stepped outside onto the stone terrace, The city lights stretched across the distance, glowing against the dark sky. Far away, the Eiffel Tower lit up the night.

But my mind wasn’t in Paris It was back home Back with Aveline. I could already picture her sitting in her room wearing one of her oversized hoodies, probably pretending not to miss me while secretly overthinking everything. The thought made my chest ache.

“You look miserable.” Chelsea’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I glanced sideways at her. “What?”

She laughed softly, leaning against the railing beside me. “You look like you’re planning your escape route.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Very.”

I sighed quietly and rubbed the back of my neck. “This whole thing isn’t really my scene.”

Chelsea surprised me by rolling her eyes. “Trust me, I know exactly what our parents are trying to do.”

I frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“They want the perfect sports-family alliance,” she said simply. “Money. Reputation. Connections.”

She swirled her champagne lazily. “My father’s been trying to force me into this little setup since I landed.”

I blinked at her. “You don’t want this?”

“Not even a little.” Her smile actually looked real.

“I have a boyfriend back in Zurich,” she admitted. “My father just pretends he doesn’t exist because he’s not useful enough.”

A quiet laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

Chelsea pointed at me dramatically. “There. That’s the first real reaction I’ve gotten from you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

She grinned. “Look, we can help each other survive this week,” she continued. “We smile for pictures, act friendly in public, and keep our parents happy enough to leave us alone.”

“And in return?”

“We get breathing room.”

Honestly, it sounded perfect. Because the last thing I wanted was some rich girl trying to flirt with me while I was already completely in love with someone else.

“Deal,” I said finally.

Chelsea lifted her glass toward me. “To surviving rich annoying parents.”

I tapped my water glass lightly against hers. “To survive.”

The next few days blurred together. Every morning was another breakfast meeting, another boring event, another dinner filled with rich people talking about hockey contracts and money.

Chelsea and I stayed together most of the time because it made things easier. Whenever reporters appeared, we smiled. Whenever our parents pushed us together for pictures, we played along just enough to avoid questions.

By the third day, gossip blogs were already posting photos of us walking through the hotel lobby together.

Future hockey power couple. The Hampton-Vance connection I didn’t care because it wasn’t real And Chelsea knew it my heart already belonged to someone else.

Still, pretending wasn't easy. One afternoon, Chelsea and I escaped another networking lunch and stopped at a small café near the river. The second we sat down outside, she pulled off her sunglasses dramatically.

“If one more old man asks about our future wedding plans, I’m jumping into the river.”

I smirked slightly. “You won't survive at least.”

“Very funny.”

We sat quietly for a moment while people walked past us on the street. Then Chelsea studied my face carefully.

“So,” she said slowly. “Who is she?”

I nearly choked on my drink. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “You get this look every few minutes like your soul is somewhere across the ocean.”

I looked away Chelsea smiled knowingly.“She must be special.”

A slow warmth spread through my chest before I could stop it. “She is.”

Chelsea rested her chin against her hand. “Tell me about her.”

And somehow… I did. Not literally everything I told her about a girl who was stubborn and brave. A girl carrying too much pain on her shoulders while still protecting everyone else first. A girl who looked at me like I was more than my last name.

Chelsea listened quietly the entire time.

Then she smiled softly. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re completely in love with her.”

A quiet laugh escaped me. “Probably.”

“She knows?”

“She does now.”

Chelsea leaned back in her chair with a small grin. “Then stop looking so miserable, Hampton. You already won.”

Maybe she was right. Because no matter how far away Paris was, Aveline was still mine And I was still hers.

That thought carried me through the rest of the trip. the fake smiles, cameras, through every dinner where my father treated me like another business investment. Deep down, I knew something Richard Hampton didn’t.

I wasn’t trapped forever, and the second this trip ended, I was going back to her.