Chapter 50 Era of Bliss
Vivienne’s POV
"We should celebrate," Raphael said when we landed the Tokyo contract. The big one. The one that changed everything for us and the company.
"How do we celebrate?" I asked him.
"Let's go away somewhere. Somewhere with no phones. No business. No meetings. Just us. It will be fun and mysterious."
So we went to a small island in Greece. We rented a little house right on the water. We spent two whole weeks doing absolutely nothing.
Just swimming in the clear blue sea. Reading books on the beach. Making love whenever we wanted. Sleeping late every morning without any alarms going off.
It was perfect. The most perfect two weeks of my entire life.
The last night we spent there, we sat together on the beach watching the sunset. The sky was orange and pink and purple all at once.
"I couldn't do this without you," Raphael said to me. "You know that right?"
I did know. Just like he knew I couldn't do any of it without him either.
"We're a team," I said.
"Best team in the whole world," he said.
When we got back from Greece the business was waiting for us. Bigger than ever before. More demanding than ever. More meetings. More contracts. More everything.
But I was ready for it. We both were.
The cameras were always there now. At every single event. Every business dinner. Every gallery opening. Every charity function.
"Mrs. Moreau, look here."
"Vivienne, what design are you wearing tonight?"
"How does it feel being married to the most eligible man in the city?"
The questions didn't stop coming. They just kept asking and asking.
But he wasn't eligible anymore. He was mine. He belonged to me now.
I learned to smile for the cameras. To pose without looking too stiff or uncomfortable.
To say just enough without saying too much. To give them something without giving them everything.
"We're very happy," I'd say with a smile. "Yes, the business is doing well." "No comment on that particular matter."
Raphael hated it more than I did. He really hated having our whole life on display like that. Hated the cameras following us everywhere. But it was part of the job now.
His company was public. His success was news. People wanted to know everything about us.
"Just smile and hold my hand," I told him before we walked into the event. "We'll be home soon enough."
The other women at these events would look at me funny. They'd smile at me with cold eyes that didn't match their smiles.
"You're so lucky," they'd say to me. What they really meant was I didn't deserve him.
Or they'd say "You've done well for yourself." What that really meant was I'd married him for his money. That I was some kind of gold digger.
I stopped caring what they thought by month three of year two. I just stopped trying to win them over or make them like me. They were going to believe what they wanted to believe no matter what I did or said.
"Ignore them," Raphael would say when I told him about it. "They're just jealous. You have what they all wanted. You have me."
The truth was more complicated than that though. Yes I had Raphael. But I'd earned my place beside him. I worked just as hard as he did. I sacrificed just as much. I put in the same long hours. Made the same tough decisions.
The public just couldn't see any of that. All they saw was a girl who married a rich man.
At home we were different. We were real. We'd kick off our fancy shoes and complain about the event we just came from. About who said what stupid thing. About how fake it all felt out there.
"Do we have to go to the museum gala next week?" Raphael would ask me.
"Yes," I'd say. "We already said yes."
"Fine. But I'm leaving after an hour."
"Sure," I'd say.
We never left after just an hour. But it felt good to pretend we could. It felt good to complain about it together.
The photographers caught us once. Really caught us in a private moment. We were stepping out of some fancy restaurant after dinner and Raphael suddenly pulled me into a dark alley.
He kissed me hard against the brick wall. His hands were in my hair. My leg hitched up around his waist. We forgot where we were for a moment.
Someone got a photo of us. Some photographer must have followed us. It was everywhere the next day. On every website. In every gossip magazine.
And that got me so angry and embarrassed. It was our private moment. Our little moment of passion. It wasn't meant for anyone else to see.
"MOREAU PASSION: Billionaire and wife can't keep hands off each other."
That's what the headline said.
We should have been embarrassed about it. We should have been more careful about where we were. More aware of our surroundings.
But Raphael just laughed when he saw it. "At least now they know you're not with me for the money," he said.
And he was right. The photo actually helped us in a weird way. It made us seem real to people. Actually in love with each other. Not just some business arrangement or marriage of convenience.
After that photo came out, people treated us differently. The questions changed. The looks changed. They could see we were really together. That what we had was real.
I still hated the cameras. I still hated having our life on display like that. But I understood it was part of our world now. Part of the price we paid for the success we'd built together.
It was part of the package that came with being Raphael Moreau's wife.