The Delcourt mansion had shut itself like a vault. But Jassy held the key.
Since her official return to the family circle, the looks had changed. Some tried to be warm. Others cautious. But all, without exception, betrayed one thing: fear.
That morning, she slipped into a sharp, understated ivory suit. An armor. The gala was approaching, and with it, the opportunity to strike hard. But before that, another burning priority: the trail of Clara.
She locked herself in her office and pulled out the secure phone. She dialed Malik's anonymous number—the one he had used in his last message. One ring. Two. Then his gravelly voice.
— "Hello?"
— "It's me."
No name. She kept her anonymity. Always.
— "I made progress," he said. "You were right. The clinic that received the funds still exists. A private foundation in Switzerland. Very selective. Not in public registries. But I got a contact inside. He told me someone named C. Delcourt is still registered there."
Jassy's heart skipped a beat.
— "She's alive?"
— "Hard to confirm. But… she never left."
Silence.
— "Keep going," she ordered. "I want a full file. And find me a way to see her. Discreetly."
She hung up without another word, throat tight.
Clara. A forgotten woman. Buried alive—for a secret.
And Julian was only the first piece to fall.
---
That evening, Raphaël knocked at her door. He seemed tense.
— "The caterer canceled. The chef refuses to work with the private security you hired for the gala."
— "Then we'll get another caterer," she replied without flinching.
He stared at her, clearly thrown off by her icy calm.
— "Since you've come back… you've changed."
She looked him straight in the eyes.
— "You mean I'm harder to manipulate?"
He blinked, stunned. She added, with a touch of irony:
— "Don't worry. I'm just… awake now."
---
The next day, she visited Elisa in her modest Montmartre apartment. Elisa welcomed her with warmth, but worry lingered in her eyes.
— "You know if you go after the Delcourts, there's no turning back."
— "I already jumped, Elisa. I'm just falling deeper now."
She told her everything: Clara, the clinic, Malik. Elisa's silence said it all.
— "You think they went that far?"
— "I think they left me to die in a car. So yes."
---
In the following days, Jassy tightened her grip. She held meetings, rewrote the gala plans, and removed two committee members without warning. She was asserting herself as a woman of power. And every move was a provocation.
Julian avoided her. Lina pretended to be too busy. Only Raphaël stayed close… too close.
One evening, he barged into her office without knocking.
— "You're snooping, aren't you?"
She raised an eyebrow.
— "Excuse me?"
— "You're digging. Acting like a stranger in your own house."
She stood up slowly.
— "Maybe it's because there's a lot to uncover here. Truths that were kept from me."
He stepped closer, threatening.
— "Stop it, Alys. You don't know what you're doing."
She didn't flinch.
— "On the contrary, Raphaël. I wrote the rules."
---
That weekend, she traveled to Switzerland. Alone. Under a false identity. Thanks to Malik, she had a meeting with a "cooperative" doctor.
The clinic was nestled in the Alps, as silent as a tomb.
The doctor welcomed her in a wooden-paneled office, walls lined with diplomas.
— "C. Delcourt is here, yes. But she doesn't receive visits."
— "I'm family."
— "You're not on the paperwork."
She pulled out an envelope thick with cash.
— "How about now?"
The doctor hesitated, sighed. Then gave in.
— "Ten minutes. No more."
---
Clara's room was clinically white. A woman in a beige robe sat by the window. Thin, hollow-eyed, her long hair dull. But Jassy recognized the facial structure immediately.
She stepped closer.
— "Clara…"
No response.
She knelt before her.
— "It's me. Alys."
Clara's eyes narrowed.
A whisper.
— "No… not Alys…"
Jassy's throat tightened.
— "You recognize me?"
Clara slowly raised a hand, touched her cheek.
— "You're… not her. But you feel like her."
Jassy held back tears. Clara was here. Broken, but alive.
— "I'll get you out. You're not crazy. They locked you up to silence you."
Clara gave a bitter smile.
— "That's what they do… to all the ones who know."
A noise in the hallway.
Jassy stood up.
— "I'll come back."
And in her eyes burned a vow.
---
Back in Paris, she summoned Julian to her office.
— "You're going to hand over the institutionalization documents. Everything you signed. Or I'll get them another way."
He laughed nervously.
— "You have no proof."
She placed a USB drive on the table.
— "Copies of the medical file. And a video of Clara. Very much alive."
Julian went pale.
— "You're bluffing."
— "Try stopping me. You'll see."
---
That night, in her room, she looked at her reflection.
Alys's face. But in the eyes… it was still Jassy.
And this time, she wasn't alone.
Clara still breathed.
And with her, the hope of burning it all down.