In a world dominated by money, Clara, an ambitious young woman, falls under the spell of Alexander, a seductive alpha who promises her a life of luxury. But once married, she discovers that he is a possessive manipulator, keeping her prisoner in an opulent palace. Isolated and watched, Clara realizes she has lost her freedom and engages in a daring fight to escape this stifling existence. By forming secret alliances with other oppressed women, she discovers an inner strength she never knew existed. In an explosive confrontation with Alexander, Clara must choose between the illusory love of a powerful man and her unwavering quest to regain her independence.
Chapter 1 Chapitre 1
Camera flashes crackle in the gilded hall of the mansion where the reception is being held. Clara smiles, her arm delicately placed on Alexandre's as they make their way through the lavishly dressed crowd. Every detail of the evening has been carefully orchestrated: from the exuberant floral arrangements to the crystal chandeliers casting golden light on the hand-picked guests. She wears a sumptuous gown, a masterpiece of silk and lace that hugs her figure perfectly. Alexandre, meanwhile, is the height of elegance, his perfectly tailored black tuxedo highlighting his natural charisma.
- Madame Delacroix, he whispers, leaning into her ear, no doubt savoring the weight of her name now attached to his.
Clara feels almost dizzy with the vertigo of this sudden change. It all happened so fast. Their meeting, their dazzling romance, the promises of a bright future, that unexpected but intoxicating marriage proposal... and now here she is, surrounded by the city's most influential elites, as the wife of one of the most powerful men in the country.
- You're beautiful, a voice whispers to his left.
She turns her head and discovers Aline Morel, a renowned businesswoman who seems to be watching her with a glimmer of amusement.
- Thank you, Clara replies with a smile. This is all... surreal.
Aline tilts her head slightly, her gaze piercing, as if she is trying to read through appearances.
- You get used to it, she finally said, before raising her glass of champagne in an elegant gesture.
Clara doesn't have time to dig into this strange remark before Alexandre leads her to another group of guests. He is an impeccable host, mastering the art of conversation and social seduction with an ease that fascinates her. Yet, behind his smile, an indefinable feeling begins to grow in the pit of her stomach. Like a premonition.
The evening drags on, and when they finally leave the reception, it's nearly three in the morning. Alexandre settles her into the limousine with studied delicacy, his arm possessively around her shoulders.
- So, happy?
She turns her face towards him. He is beautiful, magnetic, almost unreal in the dim light of the cabin.
- Yes, she breathes. It was an incredible evening.
- This is just the beginning, my dear. Our life will be like a fairy tale.
His smile is charming, but something in his gaze makes her shiver. An intensity she doesn't yet know how to decipher.
When they arrive at their residence, Clara is struck by the immensity of the place. An immense residence of contemporary architecture, with clean lines, enthroned on a hill overlooking the city. Large bay windows, a massive gate, cameras discreetly hidden at every corner.
- Impressive, she whispers as she gets out of the car.
- "Safety is paramount," Alexander explains, putting an arm around her waist. "Here, you'll be safe."
She does not immediately perceive the ambiguity of this sentence.
As they step inside, the opulence of the place overwhelms her. Every room seems to have come out of a design magazine: from the rare works of art to the marble and velvet furniture, everything exudes excess and refinement. But what really catches her attention is the omnipresence of technology. Touch panels on the wall, automatic doors, a sophisticated alarm system that Alexandre activates with a simple gesture on his phone.
- "It looks like a CIA headquarters," she jokes, looking at one of the surveillance screens showing the exterior of the property.
- "You have to move with the times," he retorts, pulling her closer. "Everything is under control here."
She nods, letting the warmth of his embrace envelope her. Yet a part of her can't help but wonder if this high technology is really there to protect them... or to control.
Exhausted, she changes and slips under the sheets of their huge bed. Alexandre kisses her on the forehead before turning off the light.
- Sleep well, my wife.
She falls asleep in semi-tranquility, lulled by the murmur of the wind against the windows.
***
When she opens her eyes, the sun filters through the silk curtains. Clara stretches, enjoying the softness of the sheets against her skin. Beside her, Alexandre is gone. She gets up and crosses the room, barefoot on the heated floor, before grabbing her phone to send a message to her friend Sophie.
But when she unlocks the screen, a cold feeling runs through her. Her phone doesn't quite look like the one she had before the wedding. The interface is slightly different. Some apps are gone.
She frowns and tries to open her messages. An error screen appears: **"Access restricted."**
- What... ?
She tries to call Sophie, but the call doesn't go through. A cold, mechanical beep tells her that the operation is impossible.
- A problem with your phone?
She jumps and turns around. Alexandre is there, wearing a white shirt open on his chest, a cup of coffee in his hand.
- I... Yes. There is something wrong.
He slowly approaches and takes the device from her hands.
- Oh, that's normal, sweetheart. I had your phone modified for security reasons.
She blinks, stunned.
- To modify ?
- Yes. Now it is connected to our secure network. Less risk of outside intrusions. I will explain.
He hands her the phone back and strokes her cheek gently.
- You don't have to worry about that kind of thing, Clara. I'll take care of everything.
She wants to protest, but something in his eyes tells her that the discussion is over.
Clara clutches her phone to her chest, a strange feeling knotting her stomach.
It was subtle. Almost insignificant.
But that was the first sign.
Other books by max htn
More