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MidReal Story
My Wicked Fiancée’s Family
Scenario:Tout se passe entre moi et, ma fiancée(Sophie), sa mère (Lady), sa meilleure amie (Natasha) et sa sœur(Tendresse) elle sont tous très entreprenantes et sournoises. Dès qu'elles en ont la possibilité elles en profitent pour tenter,en cachette, de me faire flancher. Et c'est vraiment très difficile de rester fidèle à ma copine extraordinaire.
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Maximilian
introspective, and conflicted. He becomes entangled with Sophie and her family, consisting of her sister Tendresse, mother Lady, and best friend Natasha. Despite his best efforts to remain faithful, he finds himself drawn into a web of temptation and secrets. The revelation of Sophie having a child complicates his already challenging situation.
Lady
manipulative, and focused. Lady often tests Maximilian's patience with her direct approaches and unwavering expectations. Her strong will often disrupt situations, revealing her unrelenting nature as she seeks control over the dynamics around her soninlaw.
Natasha
sometimes aligning with Lady’s ambitions or acting as a catalyst for tension due to her flirtatious nature.
I was surrounded by her family and best friend.
Her mother, Lady, was looking at me with her intense gaze, as if she could see through me.
Her sister Tendresse had been trying to seduce me since the moment we met.
And Natasha, her best friend, was trying to get my attention with her bright smile.
I knew they were all trying to get under my skin and make me waver.
But I was determined to stay faithful to Sophie.
I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I was going to try my best.
The next few days were a blur of temptation and loyalty.
I found myself in situations where I had to choose between Sophie and the women who were trying to seduce me.
But every time, I chose Sophie.
I kissed Lady on the cheek and hugged Tendresse goodbye.
Natasha waved at me from across the room, smiling brightly.
I smiled back and walked out of the mansion, feeling relieved that I had made it through another day without giving in to temptation.
But as I walked out the door, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
That Sophie was hiding something from me.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on the present moment.
I was going to spend the rest of the day with Sophie.
I pause at the doorway, my hand still on the handle.
I turn back to face Natasha.
She's still smiling brightly, but there's something different about her smile today.
It's not just a friendly smile, but a knowing one.
She's standing near the grand staircase, her yellow sundress a stark contrast against the dark wood paneling.
The others have dispersed, leaving us alone in the foyer.
My feet remain planted as she takes three deliberate steps toward me.
Her heels click on the marble floor, echoing through the empty space.
The smile never leaves her face, but her eyes hold a knowing look that makes my stomach tighten.
"Did Sophie ever tell you why she really left Paris?" Natasha's voice is smooth, almost too casual.
I hesitate, feeling a chill run down my spine.
"No," I reply slowly, "she said it was just for a change of scenery."
She extends a sealed envelope toward me, her yellow sundress catching the late afternoon light streaming through the mansion's windows.
My hand trembles slightly as I reach for it, remembering the strange behavior Sophie has shown these past weeks.
Natasha's usual playful demeanor is replaced by an unusual seriousness as she holds onto the letter for a moment longer than necessary.
"This will explain everything about Paris," she says quietly, glancing over her shoulder to ensure we're alone in the foyer.
The envelope feels heavy in my hands, and I notice Sophie's distinctive handwriting on the front.
Before I can open it, Natasha places her hand on my arm, stopping me.
"Wait until you're alone," she whispers urgently, her eyes darting around the empty space once more.
I retreat to my car, the envelope still clutched in my trembling hands.
The mansion's security lights cast long shadows across the driveway as I slide into the driver's seat.
Through the windshield, I see Natasha watching from the doorway, her yellow dress now muted in the evening light.
The envelope feels heavy in my hands, Sophie's elegant handwriting taunting me.
I trace the letters of my name written on the front, remembering Sophie's recent distant behavior and sudden departure from Paris.
My thumb slides under the envelope's seal, but I hesitate, heart pounding against my ribs.
I start the engine, deciding to wait until I'm truly alone to uncover the truth.
I drive through the quiet streets, deliberately taking a longer route home to avoid any chance of being seen.
The sealed letter sits on the passenger seat, drawing my attention every time I stop at a red light.
Finally, I pull into a secluded park near the lake where Sophie and I used to spend summer afternoons.
Parking under a massive oak tree, I kill the engine and grab the envelope.
The cooling leather seat creaks as I shift, streetlights casting just enough glow for me to read.
My fingers trace Sophie's elegant script one last time before I break the seal.
Inside, I find a single photograph that changes everything.
I stare at the photograph in disbelief, the familiar stone facade and ivy-covered walls of Sophie's childhood home filling the frame.
The image shows the house at dusk, lights glowing warmly in several windows.
My fingers trace over specific details I remember from our visits - the cracked step by the front door, the antique brass knocker, the weathered blue shutters.
But something's different.
Through one of the illuminated windows, I catch a glimpse of movement, a shadow that shouldn't be there.
The longer I look, the more unsettling details emerge.
I grip the steering wheel tightly as I navigate the winding roads leading to Sophie's childhood home, the photograph burning a hole in my jacket pocket.
The sun has set, leaving only a faint purple glow on the horizon.
As I approach the familiar stone facade, I kill the engine and coast to a stop across the street.
The house looms silent, its windows dark except for a faint light on the second floor - the same window from the photograph.
My hands tremble as I reach for the door handle, torn between investigating and respecting Sophie's privacy.
I step out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath my feet as I approach the house.
The second-floor window's glow casts an eerie light across the overgrown front lawn, illuminating the cracked step and antique brass knocker.
The weathered blue shutters hang crookedly, as if they've been recently disturbed.
I crouch behind a large hydrangea bush, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the shadowy figure move behind the curtains.
The photograph feels heavy in my pocket, its image seared into my mind.
I compare it to the scene before me, trying to find any discrepancies.
The figure pauses, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of long hair - definitely feminine.
I edge closer to the house, staying in the shadows as I make my way around to the side where the trellis is still intact.
"Who's there?" a voice calls softly from the window, startling me.
"It's me, Alex," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can hear the urgency in it.
The curtain shifts slightly, and Sophie's face appears, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else—relief.
I grip the trellis's wooden lattice, testing its strength against my weight.
The aged wood creaks as I place my foot on the first crossbeam, fragments of dried vine crumbling under my hands.
Sophie leans out her window, gesturing urgently for me to climb higher.
The photograph crinkles in my pocket with each movement upward.
Halfway up, a loose nail catches my sleeve, forcing me to pause and carefully disentangle myself.
The second-floor window looms above as I continue to climb, trying to stay quiet while the trellis groans beneath me.
Reaching the window, I pull myself inside, where Sophie's whispered words confirm my deepest fears.