I felt something break inside me. I wanted to shout at him that I could buy the company where he worked. That I could fire him with a simple call. But I remained silent.
It was the last test.
“Very well,” I replied in a low voice.
As I went down to the living room of our house in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, I saw a woman sitting comfortably on the sofa. It was Camille, her secretary: young, beautiful and sure of herself.
But what took my breath away was what she was wearing.
My grandmother’s emerald necklace, a Morel family heirloom that had disappeared from my jewelry box this morning.
“My love, does it suit me well?” asked Camille, stroking the necklace.
“It suits you perfectly,” replied Laurent before kissing her. He makes you look better than my wife, who has no style. Tonight, you’ll be sitting with me at the head table. It is you that I will introduce as my companion.
I turned away in silence. As I adjusted my apron in the kitchen, I felt that my dignity was being torn from me, room by room… and now also a memory of my family.
They had no idea that this night would change everything.
