4. Jassy's Ashes

The night had been short.

Just a few hours of broken sleep, haunted by blurry memories — screams, blows, faces. And among them, two figures she had never been able to erase: Marc, her ex-husband, and Thérèse, her mother-in-law. Two names that still sent chills of pain through her. Two people who had crushed her, humiliated her, drained her of all will.

But that woman — submissive Jassy — was dead.

And in this new body, it was she who would strike.

Sitting in her hospital bed, she stared at the city through the window. The Delcourt tower, headquarters of the family empire, loomed on the horizon. Another game was being played over there. But she had other priorities, just as burning.

She grabbed her phone, searched the app store, and downloaded an anonymous calling app. She knew Marc's number by heart. It was etched in her memory like a tattoo that never fades.

She typed in the digits slowly.

One ring. Two.

Then a familiar voice — dry, arrogant.

— "Hello?"

She didn't answer right away. Just a breath. She wanted him to doubt. To feel a presence.

— "Who is this?"

Then, in a soft, unrecognizable voice, she whispered:

— "Did you really think you'd get away with it?"

And she hung up.

---

A few hours later, Elisa joined her again at the hospital. She brought discreet but elegant street clothes.

— "Are you sure you want to leave so soon?"

— "There's no time to waste."

Elisa nodded. Together, they left the hospital through a side exit, away from curious eyes.

Jassy wasn't ready to face Alys's world in broad daylight. She had another visit to make. A very specific address.

---

The small gray building hadn't changed. Three floors, a neglected facade, and that faded blue curtain on the second-floor balcony. That's where Thérèse still lived. Jassy knew. She'd heard the old witch had managed to claim her pension… and part of the belongings Jassy had left behind.

She climbed the steps slowly, each one reawakening an ancient anger.

When she reached the door, she hesitated a second. Then knocked — three firm knocks.

— "Who is it?" growled a familiar voice from inside.

The door opened. Thérèse appeared, wearing a flannel robe, greasy hair, tired eyes.

— "Yes?"

She frowned at the sight of her. Didn't recognize her.

— "Good morning, ma'am. I'm with Valeur Patrimoine. We're conducting an audit on an undeclared inheritance linked to someone named… Jassy Borel."

Thérèse turned pale. She stepped back slightly.

— "Jassy? She's dead. Why are you bringing her up?"

Jassy stepped forward, her eyes shining.

— "You sound quite certain she's dead. But no body was ever found. Didn't that strike you as odd?"

Thérèse swallowed. Her mask began to crack. Fear started to bead on her forehead.

— "That's… that's not my problem. She disappeared. I was told—"

— "You were told what you wanted to hear."

Jassy smiled. A cold, calculated smile.

— "Tell Marc… that hell has just awakened."

She turned without another word, leaving Thérèse frozen in the doorway.

---

In the car, Elisa gave her a sideways look.

— "Do you really want to return to your old life?"

— "No. I want to make them pay. All of them. And for that, I have to become the woman they destroyed."

— "And Raphaël?"

— "He'll fall last. I want him to watch all his pawns crumble first."

---

The next day, she finally agreed to see Raphaël at the hospital. Still impeccably dressed, he brought white flowers. Too perfect. Too polished. Too… strategic.

She greeted him with a falsely gentle smile.

— "I'd like to go home soon."

— "Of course. Your room is ready. Everything is just the way you left it."

She nodded.

— "We need to talk about the Delcourt gala. I want to take back control."

He smiled, visibly relieved.

She, inside, was savoring the moment.

He saw nothing.

He thought the amnesia had softened her.

But he didn't know…

That the real Alys had returned with a guest: Jassy's icy rage.

And together, they were going to bring down an empire.