Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 371

The morning air in Paris was crisp and filled with the scent of freshly baked bread from nearby patisseries. Serena stood on the hotel balcony, sipping her espresso, her eyes sweeping over the city one last time.

She had only been here for a few days, but it had felt like another world—one that had momentarily freed her from the storm waiting for her back home.

Tomorrow, she would be back in Los Angeles, back to boardrooms, media scandals, and decisions that could alter the fate of Rocky’s Designs.

But today, for just a little while longer, she would allow herself to indulge in something simple—shopping in the fashion capital of the world.

A soft knock at her door made her turn.

Phillippe stood in the doorway, looking as effortlessly refined as ever in a dark cashmere coat over his tailored suit. “Are you ready for your final adventure in Paris?”

Serena smirked, setting her cup down on the table. “Final adventure? You make it sound so dramatic.”

Phillippe stepped inside, eyeing her up and down. She had dressed in a sleek beige trench coat over a fitted black dress, paired with heels that clicked softly against the floor when she walked.

“Well,” he said, amusement flickering in his green eyes, “shopping in Paris is no small feat. Only the strongest survive.”

Serena rolled her eyes but grabbed her bag. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind.”

Phillippe placed a hand over his heart. “That is the least enthusiastic response to shopping I have ever heard.”

She smirked as they stepped out of the hotel and into the waiting car. “It’s not that I don’t like shopping. I just don’t see the point in spending hours trying on things I don’t need.”

Phillippe scoffed. “You are in Paris. That logic does not apply here.”

The car pulled away from the hotel, and as they drove toward their destination, Serena allowed herself to enjoy the ride.

The streets were alive with movement—people walking briskly with shopping bags in hand, artists setting up their canvases near the Seine, the city humming with energy.

Within minutes, they arrived at the famed Avenue Montaigne, home to the most prestigious fashion houses in the world.

The street was lined with elegant storefronts, their window displays showcasing the latest collections from Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and more.

Serena exhaled. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

Phillippe smirked as he stepped out of the car. “Many, many times. But I must say, I’ve never had such charming company.”

Serena rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at her lips.

The first stop was Dior. As soon as they stepped inside, Serena was greeted by a warm yet professional attendant who immediately offered her a glass of champagne.

The boutique exuded luxury—pristine white walls, chandeliers hanging elegantly from the ceiling, and racks of exquisite designs displayed like works of art.

“Anything in particular you are looking for, madam?” the attendant asked.

Serena hesitated. “I don’t really—”

“She needs something timeless,” Phillippe interrupted, placing a hand on her back as he guided her toward a row of beautifully crafted dresses. “Something that screams power but whispers elegance.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “And now you’re my personal stylist?”

Phillippe smirked. “Trust me.”

Serena sighed but allowed him to pick a few options. The next twenty minutes were a whirlwind of fabric, zippers, and mirrors.

Eventually, she settled on a stunning black dress that fit her like a glove—sophisticated yet modern, the kind of dress that made a statement without trying too hard.

Phillippe studied her from across the room, arms crossed. “That is the one.”

Serena turned slightly, admiring herself in the mirror. She had to admit, he was right.

“Wrap it up,” she told the attendant.

The shopping continued from there—Chanel for classic handbags, Louis Vuitton for travel essentials, and Cartier for something she hadn’t planned on but found herself drawn to.

At Hermès, Serena picked out a silk scarf for Emma, something she knew her assistant would appreciate.

But the most important stop was for Amy.

They entered a high-end children’s boutique, the walls lined with the most adorable designer outfits and accessories.

Serena walked through the store, picking up dresses, tiny coats, and the cutest pair of pink ballet flats.

Phillippe watched her, arms folded, amusement dancing in his gaze. “I see someone is making up for lost time.”

Serena smirked. “She deserves it. I promised her gifts, and I always keep my promises.”

Phillippe picked up a stuffed bunny with a silk ribbon around its neck. “And this?”

Serena glanced at it, smiling softly. “She’ll love it.”

Phillippe handed it to the attendant. “Then it’s coming with us.”

An hour later, Serena sat at a quiet café near the boutiques, sipping an espresso while the neatly wrapped bags sat beside her.

“You know,” Phillippe mused, watching her over his own drink, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed.”

Serena smirked. “I think that’s because I know I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Phillippe chuckled. “Ah, so Paris is only enjoyable when you know you’re escaping it soon?”

She sighed, glancing down at her cup. “It’s not that. It’s just… reality waits for me in Los Angeles. And it’s not as charming as this.”

Phillippe leaned forward slightly. “You could stay.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “And do what? Start over as a socialite in Paris?”

Phillippe smirked. “You’d be excellent at it.”

Serena chuckled, shaking her head. “Tempting, but no. I built something. And I intend to keep it.”

Phillippe studied her for a moment before nodding. “Then I hope this deal works in your favor. You deserve to win.”

Serena looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you.”

They finished their drinks, and as they walked back to the car, Serena took one last look at the boutiques, at the streets of Paris, at the city she had allowed herself to enjoy more than she expected.

Tomorrow, she will return to her life.

But for today, just for today, she had lived in the moment.