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Chapitre 118 — La chute de la princesse

작가: Déesse
last update 최신 업데이트: 2025-10-05 01:00:48

CASSANDRE

Le commissariat , rien que le mot provoque chez moi une allergie cutanée instantanée. Je sens déjà mes pores se rebeller : ils n’ont pas été créés pour absorber l’air vicié de ces lieux.

Ils m’ont installée dans une petite salle sordide, avec une table qui boîte, deux chaises de bureau au plastique râpé et une lampe blafarde qui clignote comme dans un mauvais film d’horreur. On dirait une salle d’interrogatoire de troisième zone, une caricature. Si j’avais su, j’aurais exigé un décor plus glamour pour ma tragédie.

Je croise les jambes avec grâce, malgré la chemise d’hôpital froissée. Je dresse le menton, comme une reine au tribunal.

— Vous allez bientôt m’apporter un thé, j’imagine ? Une princesse ne parle jamais sans thé.

Rien , pas même un battement de cil.

Le policier derrière son bloc-notes ne bouge pas, visage fermé comme un mur de béton. L’autre, celui qui m’a portée comme un vulgaire sac de pommes de terre, reste adossé au mur, bras croisés, regard fixe, inhumain.

Cha
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  • Remember me naked   Chapter 122 — The Dinner of Truths

    LYRAThe living room is bathed in an elegant semi-darkness, the candles on the table casting a soft, flickering light. The clock seems to tick away each second with a calculated slowness, as if it too wants to measure the tension that envelops us.Alexandre is by my side, holding my hand under the table. This contact reassures me and gives me a silent strength. Our glances meet occasionally, fleeting yet charged with complicity. Without a word, he communicates that he is with me, ready to support me in this confrontation.The parents are already seated. My father has that serious, calculating expression he adopts when he wants to evaluate every gesture, every word. My mother observes the situation with an elegant coldness, as if weighing every silence and nuance. Lucas, my brother, remains upright in his chair, hands clasped on the table, his expression impassive yet attentive to everything happening around.Tania is the last to sit down. Her appearance is impeccable, her mask of calm

  • Remember me naked   Chapter 121 — Strategy and Dinner

    LYRALunch ends in a heavy silence. My parents and Lucas discuss files and projects as if nothing has happened, but I am elsewhere. Every bite from my plate is stuck in my throat, despite the appetite I try to feign. My thoughts loop around Alexandre's words, his soft voice advising me to “free myself from the weight,” his patience in the face of my anger.I look at Alexandre, sitting across from me, motionless, observing the details of the decor as if he could read my thoughts in the shadows of the curtains. He says nothing, but his gaze is there, vigilant, protective.Tania's words echo back to me. She wants to “talk again,” even just a little. Even just a little… These words resonate in my head, accompanied by a dull anger and a curiosity that is impossible to ignore. Why now? Why after three months of silence? I can't just let it slip away without understanding.I place my hand on Alexandre's.— Alexandre… I’m thinking about something.He looks up, intrigued.— Yes?— Tania… I nee

  • Remember me naked   Chapter 120 — The Sentence in Motion

    LYRAThe living room suddenly feels too vast, too silent. Alexandre is sitting across from me, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the empty fireplace as if the flames could give him a hint to resolve this chaos. I remain there, motionless, every breath heavy, aware of the gravity descending upon us like a chilling shadow.— What exactly is happening? I ask softly.Alexandre looks away, frustrated.— Cassandre... she is giving her statement this morning.My stomach knots.— She has... spoken?— Yes. She confesses everything: her lies, her manipulation, her induced miscarriage... everything.I clutch my coffee cup as if it could anchor me to reality, but my fingers tremble slightly.— Everything acknowledged... and now?Alexandre remains silent for a moment, eyes glued to the floor, as if trying to read the future in the veins of the parquet. Then he stands up.— Your parents are in the office. They are contacting the judge.A new tension tightens around my chest. Each of Alexandre's steps res

  • Remember me naked   Chapter 119 — The Royal Phone Call

    CASSANDREThe van smelled of rubber, rancid sweat, and… defeat. An unbearable odor for someone like me. The air was thick, saturated, almost tangible. Each breath felt like swallowing a cloud of dust and despair.I was sitting on a metal bench, strapped in as if I were a national threat (which, objectively, is true: I have brought down more men with a smile than any war). The vibrations of the engine shook the entire vehicle, and the chain attached to my wrists clinked with every bump like a funeral bell.The other passengers, "co-detainees," if one wants to be vulgar, were eyeing me from the corner of their eyes. One was chewing gum like a bored cow, her jaw keeping time to an invisible song. The other, as broad as a bulldog, sported tattoos that climbed her neck like brambles. She looked like she had won a scar contest. Me, I was dignified. The handcuffs on my wrists weren't chains; they were invisible Cartier bracelets."What did you do to end up here?" the gum-chewing cow shot at

  • Remember me naked   Chapitre 118 — La chute de la princesse

    CASSANDRELe commissariat , rien que le mot provoque chez moi une allergie cutanée instantanée. Je sens déjà mes pores se rebeller : ils n’ont pas été créés pour absorber l’air vicié de ces lieux.Ils m’ont installée dans une petite salle sordide, avec une table qui boîte, deux chaises de bureau au plastique râpé et une lampe blafarde qui clignote comme dans un mauvais film d’horreur. On dirait une salle d’interrogatoire de troisième zone, une caricature. Si j’avais su, j’aurais exigé un décor plus glamour pour ma tragédie.Je croise les jambes avec grâce, malgré la chemise d’hôpital froissée. Je dresse le menton, comme une reine au tribunal.— Vous allez bientôt m’apporter un thé, j’imagine ? Une princesse ne parle jamais sans thé.Rien , pas même un battement de cil.Le policier derrière son bloc-notes ne bouge pas, visage fermé comme un mur de béton. L’autre, celui qui m’a portée comme un vulgaire sac de pommes de terre, reste adossé au mur, bras croisés, regard fixe, inhumain.Cha

  • Remember me naked   Chapter 117 — The Princess Confronts the Law

    CASSANDREI hardly slept. First, because I was hungry all night (how can anyone seriously digest steamed fish?), and then because I replayed a thousand culinary escape plans in my head. None were viable.I had imagined:1. Corrupting the nurse with promises of an invitation to a starred restaurant. (Rejected in advance: her morals are as rigid as her bun).2. Simulating a dramatic relapse with convulsions and delirium. (Too exhausting to maintain for several hours).3. Attempting an escape through the window. (But I checked last night: I'm on the fourth floor. And I’m not Spider-Woman).Anyway, by morning, I was still sulking over my fate when the door opened.But it wasn't a nurse. Nor a doctor.No. It was two police officers. In impeccable uniforms, caps firmly on their heads, notepad in hand.I blink, mouth agape. — What… but… why are you here?The taller one speaks in a grave voice, as if announcing the end of the world: — Miss Cassandre Lefèvre? You must come with us.I cough

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