But he stopped arguing.
It was a small victory.
Camille had never needed anything quite so much.
The Antibes project continued without the secrecy of Vivienne’s private relationship with Gabriel.
Her professional conflict was disclosed and reviewed again once the affair became relevant to those responsible for the project.
She stepped away temporarily while independent decision-makers reassessed whether her consultancy should remain involved.
She did not argue that her technical expertise entitled her to ignore the appearance of compromised judgment.
For the first time, she understood why she had begun taking professional risks.
She wanted Gabriel to see her as indispensable.
She wanted the restoration project to become a symbol of everything he’d lost when he left her.
She had allowed that desire to influence the satisfaction she took in her work.
The technical findings were sound.
But she needed others to assess them without her personal history dominating the process.
The ownership group retained an independent specialist to review the plan.
The review confirmed the core recommendations.
Months later, Vivienne’s consultancy was invited to resume a limited role under revised oversight arrangements.
She accepted.
But only after considering whether she genuinely wanted the work.
In the end, she did.
Not because Gabriel was involved.
Because the building deserved to survive.
In time, Gabriel lost his position as managing director of the Beaumont-backed venture.
Not simply because his second marriage had failed.
The investors reviewed his performance, contractual responsibilities, and the growing financial problems facing the business.
Some projects had been successful.
Others had been poorly managed.
The Antibes development had required additional financing and substantial changes.
Henri’s personal anger complicated the process, but independent directors insisted that any decision be justified through the company’s governance arrangements.
Gabriel challenged parts of the outcome.
He argued that the family had treated business disagreements as personal betrayal.
There was some truth in that criticism.
There was also evidence of genuine management problems.
The two were not mutually exclusive.
The final arrangements were negotiated over months.
Gabriel retained interests and obligations arising from his legitimate investments.
He lost the executive position that had given him access to the Beaumont family’s capital and influence.
He was not ruined overnight.
But his career no longer followed the path he’d imagined.
He moved into a smaller apartment in Paris.
Tried to develop independent projects.
Contacted former investors.
Some agreed to meet.
Others declined.
He discovered that charm could open a door, but it could not always persuade someone to finance what lay beyond it.
Vivienne did not attend either divorce hearing.
She did not follow every development in Gabriel’s finances.
She did not call Camille.
For several months, she avoided the social circles in which the three of them had once been forced into uncomfortable proximity.
She concentrated on work.
Spent more time in Florence.
Visited her elderly aunt in Provence.
Went hiking with Naomi in the Italian Dolomites, where the air was so cold and clean that conversations about failed marriages seemed absurdly far away.
The work of moving on was not glamorous.
There were mornings when Vivienne missed Gabriel.
Not the deception.
Not the humiliation.
The ordinary man who had once made coffee while singing badly in the kitchen.
She missed being young with him.
She missed the future they’d once imagined.
Occasionally, she caught herself wondering whether he missed her too.
Then she remembered that missing someone did not obligate her to return.
And that remorse, even genuine remorse, could not restore the years they’d lost.
The final confrontation occurred at a charity auction in Monaco.
Vivienne attended on behalf of a conservation foundation.
Camille was there with her mother.
They saw each other across the reception room.
For a moment, both women hesitated.
Then Camille approached.
She looked different.
Her blond hair was shorter, falling neatly around her jaw. She wore a simple dark dress and no wedding ring.
Vivienne noticed.
Camille noticed her noticing.
Neither commented.
“Hello, Vivienne.”
“Camille.”
They stood beside a tall window overlooking the harbour.
For several seconds, they exchanged polite remarks about the event.
Then Camille said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
Vivienne looked at her.
“Go ahead.”
Camille hesitated.
“When you met me in Paris, had you already decided to end things with Gabriel?”
Vivienne considered.
“No.”
Camille looked down.
“I see.”
Vivienne continued.
“I thought I knew what I wanted. I wasn’t nearly as certain as I pretended.”
Camille nodded.
For a moment, she seemed relieved.
Then she looked toward the harbour.
“I hated you for months.”
Vivienne looked at her.
“I know.”
Camille laughed faintly.
“I still don’t like you very much.”
Vivienne smiled.
“That’s understandable.”
They stood quietly.
Then Camille turned.
“Did you enjoy it?”
Vivienne looked at her.
“The affair?”
“The revenge.”
Vivienne thought about the hotel rooms.
The messages.
The satisfaction of watching Gabriel rush toward her.
The café terrace.
Camille’s face when she learned the truth.
She took a breath.
“Yes.”
Camille stared.
Vivienne continued.
“For a while.”
The honesty seemed to surprise her.
Then Camille asked, “Was it worth it?”
Vivienne looked toward the water.
There had been a time when she would have answered with a cutting remark.
Something about getting what she’d deserved.
Something about Camille learning the cost of another woman’s pain.
Now she considered the actual consequences.
She had hurt Camille.
Returned herself to a relationship that had once devastated her.
Risked her professional credibility.
Allowed revenge to occupy months of a life she’d worked hard to rebuild.
And still, at the centre of it all, Gabriel remained the same deeply flawed man.
“No,” she said.
Camille looked surprised.
Vivienne turned back.
“I made him betray you to prove he would betray anyone. But I already knew that. I didn’t need to become part of it again.”
Camille looked away.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she said quietly, “I thought he loved me more than he loved you.”
Vivienne studied her.
“I know.”
Camille looked up.
“I thought that was why he left.”
Vivienne smiled sadly.
“Perhaps he loved you differently.”
Camille frowned.
“Does that matter?”
Vivienne considered.
Then shook her head.
“Not anymore.”
Camille looked toward the room.
Her mother was speaking with a group of guests.
A waiter passed carrying champagne.
The auction was about to begin.
Camille glanced back at Vivienne.
“I don’t forgive you.”
Vivienne nodded.
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Good.”
For a moment, they stood facing each other.
Then Camille’s mouth curved into the faintest smile.
“At least we finally agree on something.”
Vivienne smiled too.
“Apparently.”
Camille turned to leave.
Then stopped.
She looked back.
“Vivienne?”
“Yes?”
Camille studied her.
“Do you think he ever loved either of us?”
The question hung between them.
For years, Vivienne had searched for an answer.
She had wanted to know whether Gabriel’s love had been genuine or merely convenient.
