Natalie Carter is the daughter of Charles Carter, a powerful real estate tycoon known for his colossal financial empire. She left her family home to live among ordinary people after a humiliating rejection from her fiancé, an influential man she thought was her soul mate. Her escape caused a scandal, bringing shame on her family. Three years later, Natalie leads a discreet life in Manhattan. She lives in a modest apartment in a picturesque neighborhood and works as an executive assistant in a small advertising agency. She is in a relationship with a simple and unremarkable man. All seems peaceful until her neighbor mysteriously disappears. This disappearance is followed by a series of disturbing events, including murders linked to influential figures in high society. Her mother, Elizabeth Carter, contacts her to alert her of an imminent danger linked to their past. Driven by circumstances, Natalie crosses paths with her former fiancé, Alexander Drake, an enigmatic and ruthless billionaire. Faced with plots, betrayals, and shocking revelations, Natalie finds herself forced to return to the world she fled, ending her simple and anonymous life. But can she navigate this whirlwind of lies and power without losing who she has become? And is Alexander an ally or a threat?
Chapter 1 Chapitre 1
Manhattan exuded a deceptive tranquility that morning, shrouding its cobblestone streets in a light mist that softened the contours of the cityscape. Natalie Carter, snuggled up in her gray sweater, savored this rare tranquility while sipping her coffee near the window of her apartment. The walls of her modest home were decorated with minimalist frames and simple objects, echoes of a discreet life that she had carefully built far from her tumultuous past.
The streets below rustled faintly, a sign of the city's gradual awakening. Natalie loved this precise moment of the day, this moment when the world seemed suspended between silence and excitement. As she put down her cup, a loud noise coming from upstairs startled her. It came from Clara's apartment.
Clara was his immediate neighbor, a young woman with delicate features and often feverish manners. Their relationship was limited to brief greetings and a few exchanges of small talk on the landing. Yet there was something intriguing about Clara, a palpable nervousness that suggested she was hiding a secret.
Intrigued, Natalie opened her door and went out onto the landing. She listened. A heavy silence reigned now, as if the noise heard a moment earlier had never existed. She hesitated to knock on Clara's door but thought better of it. Maybe it was nothing, she thought.
A few hours later, while she was writing a report for work, there was a sharp knock at her door. She opened it to find Clara, visibly agitated, with disheveled hair and shifty eyes.
"Natalie, I... I'm sorry to bother you," Clara stammered, out of breath.
"No problem, come in," Natalie replied, surprised.
Clara refused to enter and cast furtive glances around her, as if afraid of being observed. She handed Natalie a small notebook.
"Keep it for me, please." If something happens to me..." She stopped, her voice trembling.
Natalie frowned, confused.
"Clara, what are you talking about? Everything is fine ? »
Clara shook her head, visibly terrified.
"I have to go. Just do what I ask you. Please. »
Before Natalie could ask any more questions, Clara disappeared down the stairs. Natalie stood in the doorway for a moment, notebook in hand. She wanted to open it but held back, respecting her neighbor's strange request.
The next day, Clara's absence became evident. His mailbox was overflowing, and no light was coming from his apartment. Natalie finally decided to knock on his door. No response. Worry rose within her.
She went to the building manager, Mrs. Collins, a woman in her fifties, known for her invasive curiosity.
"Clara? Ah, that girl... I haven't seen her in two days," Mrs. Collins said, shrugging her shoulders. "But she's the discreet type. »
"Two days? Don't you think that's strange? » insisted Natalie.
Mrs. Collins sighed. "Maybe she left without warning. It happens often. »
But Natalie wasn't convinced. That same evening, she decided to enter Clara's apartment. She had a spare key that Clara had given her a few weeks ago, just in case. Her heart was pounding as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was plunged into oppressive darkness. The closed curtains blocked any light from entering. Natalie looked for the switch and turned on the light. What she saw made her blood run cold.
The living room was upside down. Overturned furniture, papers scattered everywhere, and a strange metallic smell hung in the air. A broken lamp groaned beneath his feet. Natalie felt a cold sweat running down her back.
She cautiously walked towards the kitchen, where she found a cup of coffee still half full on the counter. This meant Clara left in a hurry, or worse, was forced to leave.
Natalie noticed a disturbing detail: a hastily scribbled note on a piece of paper hanging on the refrigerator. He simply said: *'They know. »*
She stepped back instinctively, her heart pounding. Who were "they"? And what did they know?
Suddenly, a noise in the hallway startled her. She turned off the light and cowered behind a piece of furniture, holding her breath. The footsteps approached, then moved away. Once silence returned, Natalie ran out of the apartment, her legs trembling.
Back at home, she carefully locked the door and collapsed onto her couch, Clara's notebook still in her hands. This time she decided to open it.
Inside she found a series of messy notes, names, phone numbers, and addresses. Some names were circled or crossed out, but none were familiar. In the middle of the pages, a complex diagram linked nouns to words like "blackmail," "murder," and "secret."
Natalie felt panic growing inside her. Was Clara involved in something dangerous?
The next morning, Natalie went to the police station to report Clara missing. But the welcome she received only added to her discomfort.
"Your neighbor, you say? » asked the officer in charge, visibly not interested.
" Yes. She hasn't given any sign of life for three days, and her apartment... was a mess. It was weird," Natalie explained.
The officer shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe she went on vacation without warning. You know, it's not that rare. »
Natalie felt her irritation rising. "No, you don't understand. She was terrified before she disappeared. She gave me this notebook..."
She took out the notebook to show it, but the officer pushed it away with a nonchalant gesture.
"Look, unless we have evidence of a crime, there's not much we can do. If you have other information, you can come back. »
Frustrated, Natalie left the police station. She felt like she was going in circles, like she was alone in this quest. Yet one thing was certain: Clara had tried to send him a message, and it was her duty to figure out what had happened.
As she was returning home, a black car, parked a few meters from her building, caught her attention. Two men in dark suits seemed to be watching him. When she stopped, they looked away, but she knew they were watching her.
His heart raced. Who were they? And what did they want?
That evening, Natalie did not sleep. She spent hours analyzing Clara's notebook, looking for a clue, an answer. But the more she read, the more the questions multiplied.
The anonymity she had cherished so much seemed to slip through her fingers, replaced by growing worry and invisible danger. Clara had disappeared, but her shadow still loomed, heavy with mysteries and secrets.
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