Meanwhile, at the Villefort residence, a grim scene had unfolded.
After the ladies left for the ball, Madame de Villefort had tried everything to convince him to join them, the prosecutor had locked himself in his study as usual with stacks of paperwork. But tonight, the papers were just for show. Villefort wasn't working. He was thinking.
With the door locked and orders not to be disturbed except for emergencies, he sat in his chair and replayed the events of the past week. Instead of diving into the documents piled before him, he opened a drawer, pressed a hidden spring, and pulled out a bundle of private notes. In code only he could read, he'd carefully recorded the names of everyone who'd become his enemy, whether through his political career, financial dealings, legal cases, or secret affairs.
