Marseilles

Marcel kidnapped me. The enormous mansion on his private island became my cage, and the threat to my family's lives forced me to accept the role of his fictitious wife. At first, I was the perfect "doll," playing the part of a good girl. It worked: Marcel believed he had completely broken me and began letting me out on the town alone. Then I decided to become his hell. I spent millions on his cards and disappeared into the most shady clubs. I wanted him to hate me and throw me out of his life. Today I crossed a line. I stumbled into our city apartment at 3 a.m., drunk. Some guy from the bar, equally drunk and loud, was holding my arm. "Oh, Marcel..." I hiccupped, seeing him in a chair with a glass. "And I thought you'd be gone. Meet... my friend." My companion, barely focusing his gaze on Marcel, instantly sobered up. He recognized him—the most dangerous mafioso, whose name they were afraid to pronounce out loud. The guy recoiled in horror, dropped my hand, and rushed for the exit, almost knocking the door down. Marcel slowly stood up, never taking his eyes off me. The silence in the room became palpable. "I was hoping the clubs would just entertain you," he said quietly, closing the distance. "But you decided to bring trash into my house. The 'bad wife' game is over."