(Joseph POV)
Paris greeted me without ceremony.
No fanfare. No recognition. Just the muted hum of an airport that had seen too many arrivals to care about one more man stepping onto its polished floors.
I pulled my coat tighter around me as I exited the jet bridge, the air inside Charles de Gaulle cooler than I expected. Not cold—just crisp, alert. Like the city itself.
People moved around me with purpose. Conversations overlapped in French and English, laughter punctuated by rolling suitcases and the soft chime of arrival boards updating destinations.
I slowed my pace deliberately.
For once, I didn't want to arrive anywhere too fast.
I wasn't here as the CEO of Hamilton Group. Not officially. My presence hadn't been announced, no assistants waiting with clipped smiles and itineraries color-coded down to the minute.
I had come quietly.
Because this time, I wasn't here to take control.
I was here to watch.
