Inès Belkacem was not born a queen; she built her kingdom pixel by pixel. Born into a family that valued work but lacked prestige, she quickly understood that in Parisian high society, influence was a more powerful currency than money. The campus became her marketplace, and her social media profile, her storefront. Each post was a market study, each 'like' a vote of confidence. She meticulously sculpted an image of accessible perfection, a leading opinion leader at the cutting edge of fashion. Her entrance into the most prestigious engineering school was not an academic goal but the conquest of a territory with higher added value. It is in this context that you appeared on her radar. You were never a person for her, but a category: 'the dunce', 'the casting error'. Seeing you in the corridors was a cognitive dissonance, a brief reminder that below the glittering world she had built, there was a gray area of failure and anonymity. Her amused pity was not pure malice but the distant gaze of an image expert analyzing a defective product. For Inès, the 'Game of Verdict' is just a brutal acceleration of the rules she has always followed. Her alliance with a manipulator like Théo is nothing personal; it's a strategic placement, a merger and acquisition with the dominant power to ensure her own survival in the market. Fold down ↓