"My baby will never go to jail , nonsense! How dare he judge my child?" murmured Mrs. Craperse.
At the bottom of the front door
With arms tucked under her chest, furrowed brows, and clearly visible forehead wrinkles,
She tapped her heels while waiting for their car to be ready.
"You're worse than your son," the father muttered as he left the manor.
"I have a better solution," Madame Craperse whispered. "I have plenty of rich people who will be forced to accept whatever my conditions are. You understand, you must never play the victim."
CRAPERSE ignored her and pushed her aside, he opened the door and slammed it behind him
Madame CRAPERSE, even more furious, stamped her feet more and hit the car with her bag before opening the door herself.
"Now you're giving me the silent treatment," sighed Mrs. Craperse, throwing her bag at her husband. "That man was unpleasant and disrespectful just because he thinks he's cleaner and more blameless."
– Stop it, you're not the victim here, you kept making snide remarks to her, and you even called her infertile
And sent his bag back to him
"Nonsense," murmured Mrs. Craperse. "The driver is taking us to the Conde family."
– Yes, madam
He immediately took to the road once he left the large estate, but upon arriving at the gate of the family condo, everything was…
"I'm driving the Craperse family," the driver whispered to the guard.
"Sorry, you can't come in," the guard sighed, resuming his post.
"Why?" asked the driver, confused.
– he… he-
"They're not here," interrupted a second guard who appeared out of nowhere.
He pushed the first one away and took his place
"Open this gate, we'll wait for them," ordered Mrs. Craperse.
"I can't do anything for you," and the guard took his position.
"This isn't our first visit, don't you recognize me?" asked Mrs. Craperse, sticking her head out of the car.
– I have a family to feed, please leave
"But he's an idiot, what do I care about his family?" muttered Mrs. Craperse. "Open this gate," she ordered again, "I-"
"Okay, okay," interrupted Mr. Craperse, pulling his wife into the car. "We're going to leave now, sorry for the inconvenience," he sighed.
– Party pooper, why are you apologizing to him, complaining madam, damn it, driver to the next family
LIKEWISE
– Sorry, I can't
– let's go to the next one
LIKEWISE
– they moved
"Moved? You'll regret it, driver, next family," ordered the lady.
MUCH WORSE THIS TIME
"The gentleman doesn't want people like you near his home. Please move along and don't cause a scene," ordered the guard.
"Who does he think he is with his one-square-meter house, 'his home,'" the woman murmured once the car had left.
They spent the entire night being rejected, going from house to house, pushed away or even insulted; no member of their prestigious entourage wanted to get in touch with them, much less see them.
It is now 10 a.m., parked in a small, isolated alley, Mr. Craperse, smoking, leaned against his car, tired, with red eyes, and a headache that gave him the ability to duplicate objects and his problems.
"How can these ungrateful people slam the door in our faces?" complained the woman, angrily removing her heels and lying down in the car.
"What did you expect?" murmured Mr. Craperse. "I've never been so humiliated; it's regrettable."
"You always exaggerate everything, you and your egos. We just have to go back and see Vince, and then I'll shed a few tears and that'll be it," sighed the woman, settling down more comfortably.
"After that stupid thing you did, you have no dignity left," the gentleman murmured, taking a drag.
– YES, furious. I have nothing left, after all I've sacrificed for you, all I have left is my son, your only son. You believe these omegas more than your child, these lies more than me, your wife, me, the one who did everything to see this empire grow.
She got up and out of the car, grabbed her husband by the collar and pressed her forehead against his.
"Let's go back and settle this," ordered the lady.
"You can't be serious, you're always supporting him. You're the one who made him like this. He's a wreck now. You've destroyed everything," the father sighed, a look of disgust on his face.
SLAP!
A resounding slap
"You really talk about your child like that?" the mother whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please pull yourself together and save my baby."
Mr. Craperse pushed his wife away, holding his cheek, turned around, got back into the car, and said in a cold tone:
– Okay, but I'll go alone
He put the security in the doors.
"Hey, open up!" she pulled on the handles.
"It's this or nothing," he ordered coldly.
- All right
He lowered the windows, took out his wife's bag and shoes, slipped her a wad of cash, and ordered the driver to leave.
"What brings you back so soon?" asked Vince.
He was sitting in his living room, a cup of tea in his hand, his hair slicked back and shiny, dressed in a three-piece grey suit, reading a newspaper with a second hand
"I'm sorry about how our last conversation ended. I came back to ask you to let me accept your offer. I accept your proposal," Mr. Craperse breathed, his palms sweating, standing with his feet trembling as if he had just lifted a very heavy weight.
"What proposal?" Vince asked simply, without even looking up from his newspaper, and occasionally taking a sip of his still steaming tea.
– I know you've been offended, but please don't hold it against us too much, you're our last hope, I beg you.
By bending down onto his knees
– hum~
That was Vince's reply; he was always reading his newspaper.
Then
He raised his head
– This morning I had an unexpected visit from the judge, "your" judge. I learned a lot, so that's what it means to become the "master".
– Why? Why have it? We could have settled this between ourselves, please.
Mr. CRAPERSE got up, sweating, and ran both hands through his hair.
"You accepted our conditions," murmured Mr. Craperse.
"Accepted?" Vince sighed, gently setting down his newspaper, placing one foot on top of the other, and crossing his fingers.
– Please, I will accept our agreement, but-
"Shhh," Vince interrupted, gesturing for him to be quiet. "We're not in a position to negotiate, Mr. Craperse. I have respect for you, that's why I agreed despite everything, but don't think you and I are anything more than that."
"Yes, I understand, of course I understand," murmured Mr. Craperse, his head bowed.
"Let's settle this problem and finish this story," Vince ordered.
He stood up and took the lead with his hands behind his back
Mr. CRAPERSE was escorted back to the courthouse where the jury was already waiting, as if his fate had already been decided before he even spoke about it.
TA TAC TAC
The hammer rang
"Welcome to this private meeting," the judge whispered. "Let's begin. If you are present, it means you agree. Now, let your lawyers present the conditions."
– of course, affirmed a small man in a black suit, my client present here, Mr. Vince, agrees to become the "master" of the accused "Eugène CRAPERSE" under the following conditions:
– he will first have to become a surrogate mother for his wife and give them a child
– he will have a job within the family manor, no preferential treatment
– he will be able to reintegrate into society if he is considered non-dangerous and socially normal
"Those are our conditions, I'm finished," the lawyer sighed, and he withdrew towards Vince.
TAC TAC !
The judge knocked again and stared at the accused's family.
"Did the accused's father accept the conditions?" the judge asked.
–... But ….. Yes yes … yes
"I'm having trouble hearing you," the judge sighed.
"I ACCEPT!" cried Mr. Craperse, his head in his hands, his heart pounding.
– The jury will announce its conditions to allow the accused to avoid prison
TAP !
First cOndition