Chapter 77

I blinked groggily at the alarm clock, my brain still thick with sleep. It took a second for the numbers to register. 9:45 AM.

Shit.

“Monique, wake up!” I nudged her shoulder frantically. “We overslept!”

She groaned and curled deeper into the blankets. “Five more minutes...”

“No, no, no, mon amour! The train leaves in an hour. We have to go—now!”

Her eyes snapped open. “Merde!”

In an instant, we were a whirlwind of frantic motion. Monique leaped out of bed, stumbling slightly as she dashed to the ensuite. I followed, both of us brushing our teeth in record time, our movements hilariously uncoordinated as we jostled for space in front of the mirror.

“We have to shower,” she mumbled around her toothbrush.

“There’s no time!” I spat into the sink, already reaching for a washcloth to give myself the fastest sponge bath in history. “We’ll shower in Geneva!”

Monique groaned but relented, dragging a comb through her hair before tying it into a quick ponytail.

We threw on our clothes at lightning speed—Monique in fitted jeans and a chic sweater, me in slacks and a button-up shirt. As I wrestled with my shoes one-handed, she ran around the bedroom, stuffing last-minute essentials into her bag.

“Phone, wallet, tickets—where are the tickets?” she gasped.

I patted my jacket. “Right here.”

She exhaled in relief before grabbing my arm. “Come on, we can grab coffee at the station!”

We practically ran out the door, Monique fumbling with the keys to lock up while I jogged ahead to the car. She jumped into the driver’s seat, and we sped off, laughing breathlessly at our mad dash.

Despite the chaos, we arrived at the station with time to spare. As we stood on the platform, waiting for the train to Lyon, Monique panted slightly and grinned. “Well, that was an adventure.”

I chuckled, looping my good arm around her waist. “Let’s never do that again.”

She smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The local train ride to Lyon was short and uneventful, giving us time to catch our breath. When we arrived at Lyon Part-Dieu station, we made our way to the TGV Lyria, where Chantel had booked us in first class for the ride to Geneva.

Monique’s eyes widened as we stepped into the spacious, plush cabin. The seats were large and comfortable, with plenty of legroom, and the atmosphere was quiet and refined.

“Chantel really outdid herself,” Monique murmured, sinking into the seat beside me.

I smirked. “She does have a talent for making sure I travel in style.”

A steward came by to take our lunch orders, offering a choice of fish, chicken, or a vegetarian dish. I opted for the filet of sole with lemon butter sauce, while Monique chose the herb-roasted chicken with vegetables.

As we dined, the scenery outside the window shifted from bustling cityscapes to the rolling countryside, with vineyards and quaint villages passing in a blur. The closer we got to Switzerland, the more the landscape transformed—lush green hills giving way to the majestic peaks of the Jura Mountains.

Monique leaned against my shoulder, sipping her coffee. “This is perfect,” she sighed.

I kissed the top of her head. “And it’s only the beginning.”

As the train pulled into Geneva’s Cornavin Station, Monique sat up straighter, eyes bright with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

We grabbed our bags and made our way outside, where I quickly called an Uber. The ride from the station took us through Geneva’s pristine streets, past elegant buildings, luxury boutiques, and the sparkling waters of Lake Geneva.

Monique’s gaze darted everywhere, taking in the famous Jet d’Eau fountain shooting high into the sky and the grand architecture that surrounded us.

“This city is beautiful,” she breathed.

I smiled. “Wait until you see the hotel.”