The Delcourt estate looked like it had been pulled straight out of a luxury magazine: immaculate driveways, white stone façade, manicured gardens, and electronic gates protected by codes and cameras. Alys—or rather Jassy—stepped onto the gravel and felt a shiver crawl up her spine. This world wasn't hers... but soon, it would be.
Raphaël greeted her at the front steps, as flawless as ever in his three-piece suit.
— "Welcome home," he said, flashing that carefully measured smile.
She replied with a silent nod and walked in without a word.
Inside, everything reeked of wealth and cold perfection: polished marble floors, grand staircases, modern art on the walls. But there was no heart in the space. No warmth. This house was a showroom. Perfect for hiding secrets.
A timid housemaid approached to take her coat and bag.
— "Thank you," Jassy-Alys said distantly, with a touch of icy elegance. She was learning quickly how to play the part.
Her former life as a submissive woman had taught her to observe, stay silent, calculate. Now she was wielding those same tools—but on a much higher battlefield.
— "Would you like to rest?" Raphaël offered.
— "No. Show me my office."
He blinked, caught off guard. She had touched a nerve.
— "Your office?"
— "The one I used before. You said everything was exactly as I left it, didn't you?"
He nodded, tense, and led her down a hallway.
---
The office was large, filled with natural light and decorated in shades of cream and gold. On the desk sat a closed laptop, a black leather notebook, and gold pens lined up with almost obsessive precision. Everything was in place... too in place.
— "You haven't used it?" she asked, approaching the desk.
— "No. I'd never dare."
Liar.
She opened the laptop, but it was password protected. She instinctively typed ALD0621. Denied. Another combination, perhaps? She'd figure it out later.
— "Would you like to be alone?" Raphaël asked.
— "Yes."
He left the room without pushing back. A mistake on his part. Leaving her alone meant arming her.
---
An hour later, she was already rummaging through drawers. She found a spare key, a magnetic card, several folders labeled with company names... and one sealed envelope, handwritten: "To be opened in case of disappearance."
She hesitated. Could this be from Alys herself? A final message left behind? She carefully broke the seal.
Inside, a handwritten letter:
> "If you're reading this, something has happened to me. I discovered Raphaël has been lying from the beginning. About my father. About my sister. And now about me. He wants my place. He wants the power. I don't think he'll stop. Please—if you can help me… expose him. Protect what I've built. — A."
A cold chill slid down her spine. Even Alys had suspected a conspiracy. Jassy felt something strange—like the woman she had replaced was reaching out to her from beyond the grave.
And she intended to honor that hand.
---
That evening, Raphaël organized a "small and intimate" dinner, as he put it. He invited Lina Delcourt, the powerful aunt, and Julian, the lawyer cousin.
The three of them sat facing her across a table too large, in a dining room too stiff and formal.
— "We missed you, Alys," Lina said as she poured a glass of champagne. "You've always had that fire in your eyes… and now I see it again."
— "Maybe the coma helped me see things more clearly," she replied with a sly smile.
Julian stared at her, puzzled. Was that doubt in his eyes? Had he noticed a shift? No matter. Jassy simply played the role to perfection.
— "I heard about the Delcourt Gala. I want to take back the lead."
— "Already?" Lina said, surprised. "You've just come out of the hospital."
— "Exactly. I've lost enough time. And I want to make sure no one made decisions on my behalf while I was away."
Silence fell. Raphaël placed his glass down—just a bit harder than necessary.
— "That's why I kept everything untouched."
Another lie.
---
Later, alone in her room, Jassy scrolled through Elisa's old messages. Alys's best friend seemed sincere, loyal, worried. One message jumped out:
> "You still haven't told me what you found about your sister. Was Julian telling the truth?"
Jassy typed a response, pretending to be Alys:
> "We need to talk. Not over text. Let's meet tomorrow."
She would dig. She would find out everything. But she couldn't forget her original mission: Marc.
---
The next morning, she used a burner SIM card to contact someone from her past: Malik, a tabloid journalist with a reputation for digging up dirt. They'd crossed paths before, back when Marc had paid him off to bury a domestic abuse case.
She called using a fake name, of course.
— "I need everything on a man named Marc Borel. I pay well. I want it all—finances, habits, recent moves… and if he's been talking about anything strange lately."
— "I remember him," Malik chuckled. "You want me to dig through his trash?"
— "Dig until it smells like a corpse."
He laughed.
— "Got it. I'll be in touch soon."
---
That afternoon, she met Elisa at a chic café in the city. The woman hugged her tightly.
— "You seem... different."
— "Maybe the accident made me see things clearly."
They sat down. Jassy wasted no time.
— "You mentioned a secret involving my sister. Julian."
Elisa hesitated, voice lowered.
— "Alys told me her sister didn't die in an accident like everyone believes. She had started investigating… and Julian seemed involved. Or at least, covering for someone. She found a file in her father's safe. But she was scared to confront him."
— "Where's that file now?"
— "She hid it. But I don't know where."
Jassy made a mental note. She wouldn't stop pulling this thread.
Before leaving, she placed her hand on Elisa's.
— "Thank you for trusting me. Just... keep playing along. If I fall, I need someone to know the truth."
---
That evening, back at the manor, she found Raphaël in the study, typing on a laptop—not the one from Alys's office, a personal one. He jumped slightly when she entered.
— "You scared me."
— "Sometimes I scare myself. Especially when I start remembering things."
She closed the door slowly behind her.
— "What if I told you I remember... a little more each day?"
He stared at her, silent.
She stepped closer.
— "Like… how you were already in my life before my father died. Before my sister disappeared. Strange, isn't it?"
He didn't answer. His mask cracked—just a little.
She smiled.
— "Goodnight, my love."
And she walked out.
But she now knew two things:
1. Raphaël was hiding far more than a car accident.
2. And if she kept digging, she would find what Alys left behind.