Chap­ter III immers­es us in the vibrant world of 1928 Chica­go, where Addie is deeply entrenched in the clan­des­tine atmos­phere of a speakeasy, a hid­den gem that flour­ish­es defi­ant­ly amidst the era of Pro­hi­bi­tion. The dim, inti­mate light­ing of the bar, with the glow of a stained-glass angel cast­ing a mut­ed halo, envelops Addie in a sense of lib­er­a­tion and anonymi­ty. Here, she finds her­self swept away by the intox­i­cat­ing rhythm of jazz music and the allure of dance, a wel­come escape from the weight of her own exis­tence. Yet, despite the excite­ment sur­round­ing her, Addie remains teth­ered by an ever-present, almost suf­fo­cat­ing weight—a wood­en ring, care­ful­ly worn on a sil­ver cord around her neck. This ring is not sim­ply an acces­so­ry; it is a con­stant reminder of the pact she made with Luc, the mys­te­ri­ous and pow­er­ful fig­ure who has remained a shad­ow in her life for over four­teen years. It is both an anchor and a sym­bol of her strug­gle, a con­stant bat­tle between the temp­ta­tion to sur­ren­der to his pull and her unyield­ing desire to main­tain her auton­o­my.

As Addie reflects on her long-stand­ing con­flict with Luc, she finds her­self torn between the allure of sur­ren­der and the strength of her defi­ance. This inter­nal strug­gle, which has last­ed for over a decade, seems to crescen­do as she sits in the speakeasy, observ­ing the atmos­phere around her. Her rever­ie is inter­rupt­ed by a pecu­liar encounter—an unex­pect­ed glass of Cham­pagne, gar­nished with a del­i­cate can­died rose petal, placed before her. The drink, a seem­ing­ly inno­cent ges­ture, becomes a bridge between her soli­tary exis­tence and the pres­ence of Luc, who has mys­te­ri­ous­ly orches­trat­ed this meet­ing. His eyes, framed with an enig­mat­ic mix of foliage and allure, sug­gest that this encounter is not ran­dom, but rather a cal­cu­lat­ed move in the ongo­ing game between them. The more Addie tries to resist, the more she feels an unde­ni­able pull, a mag­net­ic force draw­ing her clos­er to him, one she can no longer deny. The ten­sion in the air becomes thick, and Addie begins to acknowl­edge the inevitable con­ver­gence of their paths—one that she has tried to avoid but now can­not escape.

When Addie final­ly slides into the booth oppo­site Luc, their con­ver­sa­tion unfolds in a del­i­cate dance of seduc­tion and resis­tance. Luc, with his usu­al indi­rect charm, hints that his influ­ence extends beyond just their per­son­al his­to­ry, sug­gest­ing that he has played a part in the very exis­tence of the speakeasy. He makes it clear that his pres­ence here is no coin­ci­dence; he has been wait­ing for this moment, for her, and his words seem to echo with a deep­er mean­ing. Addie, how­ev­er, tries to main­tain con­trol of the sit­u­a­tion, insist­ing that her arrival at the bar was pure­ly acci­den­tal. She insists that her pres­ence is not a sign of her capit­u­la­tion, but Luc sees through this defense. His insight into her heart, his uncan­ny abil­i­ty to see beyond her sur­face-lev­el resis­tance, expos­es the truth she refus­es to face—that their bond is far deep­er than she is will­ing to admit. Their exchange takes on a bit­ter­sweet tone as Addie tries to assert her inde­pen­dence, even as Luc’s obser­va­tions force her to con­front the real­i­ty of her exis­tence. Despite her protests, he is right: their con­nec­tion is unde­ni­able, and no mat­ter how much she resists, the past and its dark influ­ence can­not be escaped.

The ten­sion between them, now pal­pa­ble and charged, high­lights the com­plex­i­ties of their rela­tion­ship, one that has long been defined by both seduc­tion and rejec­tion. As Luc dis­cuss­es the ways in which Addie has tran­scend­ed her human­i­ty, it forces her to face the true cost of her pact—one that has robbed her of the abil­i­ty to live, love, or belong like those around her. Addie’s refusal to accept this truth is a tes­ta­ment to her endur­ing human spir­it, as she clings des­per­ate­ly to the pieces of her­self that still feel tan­gi­ble and real. How­ev­er, Luc’s words can­not be erased, and his prox­im­i­ty to her—both phys­i­cal­ly and emotionally—emphasizes the depth of their bond and the impos­si­bil­i­ty of tru­ly escap­ing from it. In their heat­ed exchange, Addie’s strug­gle to hold onto her human­i­ty is con­trast­ed with the cold, indif­fer­ent force that Luc rep­re­sents. She is caught in an eter­nal tug-of-war, unable to ful­ly embrace the real­i­ty of her sit­u­a­tion, but equal­ly unable to sev­er the ties that bind her to him.

This chap­ter intri­cate­ly weaves togeth­er themes of pow­er, desire, and auton­o­my, set against the rich back­drop of a Pro­hi­bi­tion-era Chica­go night. The speakeasy, with its hid­den allure and the dan­ger that comes with defy­ing the law, mir­rors Addie’s own inter­nal bat­tle between sur­ren­der and resis­tance. Her defi­ance against Luc, though strong, is not enough to ful­ly sev­er the influ­ence he has over her, and as the chap­ter pro­gress­es, we see that her attempts at inde­pen­dence are fraught with dif­fi­cul­ty. The dance between them is not just about love or attrac­tion; it is about pow­er, con­trol, and the strug­gle for per­son­al agency in a world that seeks to dic­tate the terms of her exis­tence. Addie’s con­stant resis­tance to Luc’s pull, even as it becomes more dif­fi­cult to ignore, is a reflec­tion of her endur­ing desire to main­tain her iden­ti­ty and her sense of self. Despite the seduc­tive allure of his pres­ence, she con­tin­ues to fight for her human­i­ty, even as she is forced to con­front the real­i­ty that Luc’s influ­ence is some­thing far more pow­er­ful and inescapable than she ever antic­i­pat­ed. This chap­ter ulti­mate­ly serves as a reminder that in a world where time and fate seem beyond her con­trol, Addie’s true bat­tle lies in main­tain­ing her auton­o­my in the face of an eter­nal, unre­lent­ing force.