" Étienne Caron, " he said as soon as he heard the former detective's voice. "I want to know everything. About Claire. About the divorce. About every piece of evidence that incriminated her. I don't trust anything anymore."
— Give me forty-eight hours.
Those were the worst days of his life.
He did not sleep.
He kept seeing the worn sandals, the twins, the bag of cans.
When Caron returned, he was carrying a black briefcase.
— Everything was fabricated.
The transfers originated from a digital clone linked to Camille's phone.
The alleged lover was a failed actor paid to pose in front of cameras.
The collar had been put on by the bribed head of housekeeping staff.
And there was worse.
Photos of Camille in a luxury apartment.
Embracing Julien Rivière .
His biggest rival in the business world.
Transmitting confidential documents.
And the last piece:The anonymous letter sent to Claire.
"If you try to demand money with the bastards you're carrying inside you, all three of you will disappear."
Alexander's world turned to ice.
Not only had he been betrayed.
But he had driven his pregnant wife into poverty.
That same night, he drove to the small rural village where Claire lived.
The shack was made of sheet metal and wood.
A single light bulb hung from the ceiling.
She barely opened the door.
