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CHAPTER 111: THE ARRIVAL 1
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2026-04-06 07:11:00Dimitri has not left me. He took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves. He is here, physically, mentally, totally present. When the wave becomes pain, when it doubles me over and tears a moan from my throat, he is the rock against which I crash. His arm around my shoulders, his voice in my ear.
— Breathe, my love. You are so strong. Look at me. Hold on to me.
I hold on. I hold on to him as the only certainty in this chaos. I clench my fingers on his fore
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Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 112 : WONDER 1
DianeDawn rises, soft and inexorable. A milky light filters through the silk curtains, caressing the contours of the olive wood cradle placed near the bed. Alexandre sleeps, his little fists clenched near his face, his translucent eyelids flickering with invisible dreams.I do not sleep. I cannot. Every beat of his heart, every slight sigh, every tiny movement keeps me awake, vigilant, filled with wonder. My body is a battlefield now calm—painful, bruised, but transformed. Fatigue is a lead weight in my limbs, but my mind floats on currents of adrenaline and love.Dimitri has not moved since he lay down. His breathing is deep, regular. But I know he is not sleeping either. I sense it in the contained tension of his body, in the way his hand, still open-palmed on the sheet, seems to reach towards me without daring to touch.— You should sleep, he suddenly murmurs, his voice low and rough in the silence.— I can't, I answer just as
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 111: THE ARRIVAL 1
Dimitri has not left me. He took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves. He is here, physically, mentally, totally present. When the wave becomes pain, when it doubles me over and tears a moan from my throat, he is the rock against which I crash. His arm around my shoulders, his voice in my ear.— Breathe, my love. You are so strong. Look at me. Hold on to me.I hold on. I hold on to him as the only certainty in this chaos. I clench my fingers on his forearm, so hard I feel the muscles contract under my grip. He doesn't flinch. He wipes the sweat streaming from my temples with a cool cloth Élise hands him. He murmurs, disjointed words, memories, promises, a litany of encouragement and love. His deep voice mingles with the reassuring voices of the midwives, who accompany me, soothe me, bring me back to my body.At times, the pain is so fierce, so intimate and violent, that I hate him. I hate what he did to me, what he planted in me
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 110 : THE TAMING
And yet…I am not madly in love with him. I may never be. Love, as I dreamed of it as a teenager made of equality, shared discoveries, freedom has no place here. That love is dead, buried under the foundations of his property.But something else is being born. Something more complex, more ambiguous, more dangerous too.I am learning to love him.Not passion-love, but habit-love. Comfort-love. Security-love. It's a feeling that grows slowly, like a plant in the shade, feeding on small attentions, soothing routines, the terrifying constancy of his devotion.When he humiliated that woman, it was out of possession. But it was also, in his twisted and absolute mind, out of protection. For me. For "us." He built a rampart around me with someone else's broken body. And a part of me, a part I hate but which exists, felt… cherished. Protected. Even avenged, for the small humiliation suffered.This is the true hell of my si
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 109 : THE PUNISHMENT
— Sir, please… she whimpers.— Leave, he interrupts, his voice low again, but of an absolute coldness. Never speak to me again. Never come near my family again.She curls in on herself, broken. A colleague, out of pity or fear, discreetly takes her elbow to guide her towards the exit. The door closes on her shattered back.The silence that follows is electric, charged with fear and a brutally learned lesson.Dimitri speaks again, more calmly, but each word remains an engraving in stone.— Let this incident serve as a reminder to all. The next person who disrespects my wife, or allows disrespect to be shown to her, will share her fate, but with far more severe professional consequences. You may go.They leave, silent, swift, without a glance at me, the invisible and absolute center of this hurricane.When we are alone, he walks to the discreet bar, pours himself a glass of water. His hands do not tremble. He ta
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 108 : THE INVITATION
And as I cross the threshold, I understand that the real test wasn't in the car. It was here. In this humiliation. In this silent verification: am I still submissive enough to endure this without protest? Am I still worthy of being invited to his table?The door closes behind me, without a sound.DianeThe door absorbs me into an even thicker silence. His office is a flagship, all in length, with a panoramic picture window giving onto the city like a conquered kingdom. He stands near the window, his back turned, motionless in a dark suit that merges with the gray light outside.— She is sorry, I say, my voice echoing faintly in the immense space. She didn't recognize me.He doesn't move right away. Then he turns slowly. His face is a mask of perfect calm. But his eyes… His eyes are two dark embers, a coldness preceding the explosion.— She was disrespectful to you.It's not a question. It
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 107 : THE GILDED ENVELOPE 3
But then I open my eyes, and I see the bars on the windows. I feel the weight of his gaze on me, even when he reads. I remember the primordial terror, the foundational violence of all this.I am a sanctuary, yes. But a sanctuary is a prison for what it contains. A gilded, suffocating envelope that preserves and slowly kills.The baby moves again, a quick motion, almost a protest. His hand leaves the book and comes to rest on my belly, calming the agitation, demanding silence.— Hush, my treasure, he murmurs, to the child or to me, I no longer know. Everything is fine. Papa is here. Mama is here. You are safe. Forever.And these words, spoken with infinite gentleness, are the most terrifying of all. For they seal, in silk and poetry, the life of gentle servitude that awaits this child. And mine, which will never end.I close my eyes. The voice continues reading, a lullaby for the unborn child and for the mother who, she, is alrea
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