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CHAPTER 68 : THE EXECUTION 1
publish date:
2026-03-20 22:11:00Diane
Volkov's violence is methodical. It's not passionate, it's punitive. Each thrust is a punch, each withdrawal a tearing away. He twists my wrists, bites the skin of my shoulder until it bleeds, turning my body into a silent battlefield. I don't cry. I don't scream. I count the seconds in my head, I take refuge in the cold accounting of horror. I am the marble he's trying to crack.
When he finishes his work, with a grunt that sounds more like a groan of anger t
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Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 114 : WONDER 3
He remains silent for a long moment, looking at me, then at Alexandre. When he finally speaks, his voice is changed. Resigned? Calculating? I cannot tell.— We will find an arrangement, Diane. For him. Not now. Not while he is so fragile. But… we will find.It is not freedom. It is not even a promise. It is an opening. A minuscule crack in the wall of my prison. And for now, with my son sleeping beside me and my body exhausted, it is more than I expected.— All right, I murmur.He nods, once, as if sealing a fragile pact. Then he leans down, not towards me, but towards the cradle. He touches Alexandre's head with his fingertips, a contact as light as a feather's caress.— Everything for you, my son, he murmurs. Everything.He straightens, looks at me one last time.— Sleep, Diane. I'm here.He returns to the armchair, settles there for the night. He does not touch me. He attempts not
Désiré Me 2 CHAPTER 113 : WONDER 2
DianeÉlise hesitates, looks at me. I give a small nod. She steps back.Then I see Dimitri Ivanov, the man who makes empires tremble, the man who abducted and held me captive, tackle a linen diaper with touching awkwardness. His large hands, accustomed to signing orders or gripping throats, tremble slightly before the tiny fasteners. He speaks softly to the squirming baby.— Gently, little lion. Let me do this. I'm your father, I won't hurt you. There, like this…When he succeeds, after several attempts, in fastening the diaper correctly, he looks up at me, and on his face floats an expression of humble triumph, prouder than when I have seen him conclude a multi-billion dollar merger.— Look, Diane. I did it.— You did it, I say, and a smile I cannot control stretches my lips.He notices this smile. His eyes rest on my mouth, and his own smile softens, takes on a different, more complex em
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
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