Semua Bab Remember me naked: Bab 161 - Bab 170

LYRAThe file opened in front of me seems almost banal, thin, fragile, but I know it contains the weight of twenty years of mysteries and silences. My fingers brush over the papers, my heart races, and the restaurant, though neutral and quiet, becomes a suspended theater, where every word could tilt the reality I had reconstructed.Yann sits down with the calculated calm that characterizes him, crosses his legs, and looks me straight in the eyes. I feel Lucas tense beside me, his hands clenched on the table, ready to intervene if the atmosphere becomes too charged.— Before we begin, murmurs Yann, I need to know… where is Alexandre?I almost jump. Lucas gives me a questioning glance, and I sense that the mere name of Alexandre triggers something in this room.— He is… with us in our thoughts, I reply softly, my heart pounding. He doesn’t know anything about this yet.Yann nods, seemingly satisfied with a partial answer, then continues, more seriously:— Good. Because what I’ve discove

TANIAI'm lying on my bed, the window slightly open, letting in a warm breeze. Evening descends upon the city, shadows lengthen, and my room fills with that muffled silence that amplifies thoughts. But in my head, nothing is silent. Everything screams his name. Lucas.Four months have passed since that first night. Four months, and every day, every hour, every second is imbued with him. He is everywhere: in my skin, in my dreams, in the slightest beat of my heart.When I close my eyes, I see him again. His burning gaze that undresses me effortlessly, his deep voice that slips into my ear like both a caress and a threat, his hands that know me better than I know myself. He has marked me. No, he has possessed me. And I've never wanted to fight it.At first, it was just a dangerous, almost unreal fascination. Lucas: Lyra's brother. Untouchable. Breathtakingly handsome, rich, inaccessible. An apparition too perfect to belong to my reality. But a single shiver, just one of his kisses, was

LUCASI look at the time on my watch. 9:12 PM. Soon.The message was sent a long time ago. Three sentences, simple, dry, precise: 10 PM. Montclair Hotel. Room 408. No need for anything else. Three sentences that have become a chain around her neck. She must have jumped, smiled like a child, her heart racing. I imagine her trembling fingers caressing the screen, her lips stretching into that silly smile she thinks is secret. I already know the scene. I know how she prepares: feverish, exhilarated, convinced she is giving herself to the man of her life.And tonight… tonight, I will shatter this illusion.Four months. Four months of patience, shadow, calculation. I have shaped Tania like one molds pliable clay. I let her believe that her gestures, her choices, her desire were born from her. What absurdity. Every sigh she has breathed, I have torn from her. Every tremor of her thighs, I orchestrated.I recall our first encounters. Her distrust. Her eyes searching for reasons to flee from

LUCASThe door to suite 408 remains ajar, but the hallway light no longer reaches me. It’s as if it has stopped at the threshold, kept at bay by the bubble we have just created. Here, there is only her and me.Alix is still there, pressed against me, her breath mingling with mine. Her hand remains on my neck, her fingers playing with my hair like a soft melody. Her eyes shine with a glimmer I’m not used to seeing in her: less calculation, more turmoil.I rest my forehead against hers. I feel her warmth radiating, a gentle fever. Her lips brush against mine again, but this time without urgency, just to savor the moment. She places a kiss, then another, longer. I welcome it.Her hand slowly glides from my neck to my throat, then down to my chest. The fabric of my shirt cushions her touch, but I feel it nonetheless. Her fingers linger, tracing invisible lines, as if she wants to memorize my shape. She undoes nothing, seeks to go no faster. She explores.I respond by letting my hand follo

TANIA— How… how could you?My voice breaks. My legs wobble, my hands tremble. Every fiber of my body screams, unable to stand upright. In front of me, the scene is a waking nightmare: Lucas, my Lucas, lying on the bed with her. His lips still reddened from kisses, his hands still resting on her body.I am suffocating. My breath quickens, irregular, burning. Tears flow, hot, searing, as if they want to wash away my shame and disbelief. Each drop is a knife I stab into myself.— Tell me it’s not true, tell me it’s not…LUCASI slowly sit up, without haste, letting each movement weigh heavily. My eyes dive into hers, icy, relentless. No detour, no tenderness. Not a word of apology. The moment is here, perfect, cruel.— It’s true.Her eyes widen, her breath catches. The sobbing intensifies. I watch her stagger under the weight of my words, and I continue:— I never loved you, Tania.A heavy silence falls. Her knees buckle, she steps back, searching for an invisible support.— All this ti