The gala was approaching. Less than six days.
The tension inside the Delcourt mansion was thick enough to slice with a knife. The staff walked on tiptoe, voices hushed the moment Alys entered a room. Everyone sensed that something deep was shifting, but no one dared to ask questions.
In her office, Jassy was finishing her plan. Clara was alive. Broken, yes, but not dead. And that was a crack in the fortress. An admission. Proof that the Delcourts were hiding more than just a family secret. Proof that they silenced anyone who threatened their power.
And Jassy fully intended to use that crack to bring them down.
That morning, she summoned Lina—her aunt, the clan's matriarch, a woman made of stone and steel. Lina walked in without knocking, as always.
— "You wanted to see me?"
Jassy studied her for a long moment before answering.
— "I want the gala to serve a cause this year."
Lina raised an eyebrow.
— "A cause? Since when does the Delcourt gala need justification?"
— "Since the family's image started to rot from the inside."
Silence.
— "I'm talking about philanthropy. Mental health. Psychiatric institutions."
Lina paled slightly.
— "Why that subject?"
Jassy leaned forward, every word a blade.
— "Because I think the people forgotten behind locked doors deserve to be seen."
The message was clear. And Lina understood it.
---
Meanwhile, Malik kept digging in the shadows. He had sent Jassy a list of former employees from the Swiss clinic. Among them, a nurse dismissed for "breach of confidentiality."
Her name: Gabrielle Pradier.
Now living in Geneva.
Without wasting a second, Jassy called her.
— "Madame Pradier? I'd like to speak with you about Clara Delcourt."
A pause, then a choked reply:
— "She's... still alive?"
— "Yes. And I need everything you know."
The next day, Gabrielle met her in a discreet hotel near the border. A woman in her fifties, hands trembling, eyes hollowed out by guilt.
— "I wasn't supposed to say anything. I signed papers. But what they did to her..."
She spoke: constant sedation, isolation, doctors paid to falsify diagnoses. Clara had screamed she wasn't crazy. No one listened.
Jassy recorded everything.
Now she had a living witness.
---
Back in Paris, she decided to strike harder.
Julian received an anonymous letter. A single sentence:
> "If I fall, you fall with me. See you tomorrow night."
Lina found a bouquet of black roses in her room, with a note:
> "The flowers of silence always wilt when you least expect it."
As for Raphaël… she was still waiting.
---
Two nights later, she agreed to have dinner with him.
Private restaurant, view of the Seine. Everything was perfect.
— "Have you regained all your memory?" he asked, playing casual.
— "Not everything. But enough."
He smiled, but she saw his jaw tighten.
— "I wanted to talk about the wedding. We can postpone, of course, until you feel grounded again."
She raised her glass of wine, observing him with chilling calm.
— "You still want to marry me... even though I'm not the woman I used to be?"
He looked at her.
— "I love you, Alys."
She leaned forward slowly.
— "And I look at you... and wonder how I could have been so wrong."
His smile froze.
— "Excuse me?"
— "Nothing. Drink your wine. Enjoy the calm. It won't last."
---
The day of the gala arrived.
The mansion was lit up like a palace. Luxury cars, champagne, press. High society had turned out in force. Everyone wanted to see Alys Delcourt's grand return.
And she didn't disappoint.
Wearing a black, slit dress—elegant and dangerous like a razor blade—she descended the grand staircase under the flashes of cameras, escorted by Raphaël.
But it wasn't a reconciliation.
It was an exhibition.
A spectacle.
At exactly 9 p.m., she took the stage for her speech.
— "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you. Tonight, we gather to celebrate. But also to reflect."
Murmurs.
— "To reflect on those we silence. Those we lock away. Those we erase."
Julian, Lina, and Raphaël stared at her. Motionless.
— "Mental health is not a scandal. But making someone look insane just to silence them… That is."
A chill swept through the hall.
— "Tonight, I want our donations to open doors. To free the forgotten."
Thunderous applause. The public was moved.
But in the eyes of the Delcourt family… there was panic.
---
In the days that followed, everything sped up.
Gabrielle gave her testimony to the press. Malik published an article revealing the clinic's shady practices. Clara, still in Switzerland, was transferred to neutral medical supervision. The scandal had a face.
But Jassy knew there was one target left: Raphaël.
She dug into his past, his finances, his connections. And found correspondence with a man named Louis Vernay, a silent investor in a Delcourt project mysteriously shut down after a "suicide."
She contacted Louis.
He wasn't dead.
He had gone into hiding.
And he had plenty to say.
---
The next chapter was set in motion.
But for now, Jassy stood on the balcony of the mansion, watching Paris glitter beneath her.
The night breeze carried the scent of jasmine… and blood.
It wasn't over.
It had only just begun.