34

The lingering scent of Richard’s cologne clung to Giselle as she shut the apartment door and took a deep breath to stable herself. Lawrose and Serayah were standing in the kitchen, hovering over a laptop, checking their bank balances with the intensity of people looking for a miracle.

"The money is back," Serayah said, her voice breathless. "The restriction on my account has been remov. My accounts status has ticked green."

"You guys wont believe my sponsor just emailed," Lawrose added, though he didn't look happy. "They called it a 'technical glitch.' A glitch that almost gave me a stroke." He looked up at Giselle. "He’s gone, isn't he? The monster in the sedan?"

"He gave me twenty-four hours," Giselle said, walking into the center of the room staring at nothing in particular. Her voice was different—lower, steadier. "He told me if I’m not back in the mansion by tomorrow night, he’s coming up here to ‘evacuate’ me himself. And he didn't mean with a moving truck."

"So that’s it?" Lawrose snapped, throwing his phone onto the sofa. "I hope You’re not packing your bags?”

Giselle did not reply. She lowered her eyes to her feet.

“Huhh! You’re going back to be the sacrificial lamb?”

Lawrose asked again.

“Sit down Law, I…” Giselle tried to say.

“If you’re about to tell us you’re surrendering to the Hemingway patriach, I don’t want to hear it. I can't watch it, Giselle." He rebuked.

"Sit down," Giselle commanded.

It wasn't a request. The tone was so sharp both Lawrose and Serayah froze. They slowly moved to the sofa, watching her.

"First of all," Giselle began, pacing the rug, "I am sorry. I’m sorry you both had to go through madness these last couple of days. I was selfish. I was drowning and I didn't care who I pulled down with me. But hiding in this apartment? It’s over. I can’t hide forever, and I won't let you lose your lives for my sake."

"Giselle, we’re okay now," Serayah started, but Giselle held up a hand.

"I’ve regained my senses. Something snapped inside me while I was in that car. I looked at Richard—really looked at him—and I realized I had been pushed around by these Men for too long. They think they own me of some sort and a contract. But if I’m going back to that house, I’m not going back as Chase’s wife. I’m not going back as Richard’s fragile little daughter-in-law. I’m going back as Giselle Monroe."

Lawrose leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Explain. Because last I checked, the door at the mansion only opens for 'Mrs. Hemingway.'"

"Richard wants to save the company's reputation. He needs the image of a stable marriage to finalize the merger with some important clients. Since all father and son want to do is use Me. Fine. He can have his image. And since my presence is very much needed for this socalled force union to take shape, I will demand and open marriage."

Serayah gasped. "An open marriage? With Chase?"

"Chase can sleep with whoever he wants. He can move Monica into the guest house for all I care. I am done competing for the attention of a man who isn't worth my sweat. Yes I love him, but I can equally resent him and Chase better be prepared for me," Giselle said, her eyes flashing with a cold, hard light. "Since it’s, I do whatever I want. I go where I want. I spend whatever I want. And trust me I am going to do so much. Haha. I am so done playing the fool."

"And Chase?" Lawrose asked, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Chase is going to wish he never mistreated me," Giselle hissed. "I’m going to make his life a living hell. Every time he thinks he’s won, I’m going to be three steps ahead. I’m going to humiliate him with my success while he rots in his own scandals. I’m done being the victim my goodness"

"Now this is the friend I know!" Lawrose squealed, jumping up and clapping his hands. "The mouse is dead! Long live the Queen!"

"It’s a welcome development," Serayah said, her voice filled with relief. "But Giselle... what about Richard?"

“What about him?” Giselle asked.

“You both had sex, and now you have gone on to seduce him and all, would this new knowledge of that night constitute issues for you” she asked.

Giselle paused, her gaze drifting to the window. The thought of Richard sent a surge of heat through her that she couldn't entirely suppress.

"He rejected me when I went to him myself. So it means he does not want me. Richard is a choice I haven't made yet," Giselle said quietly. "In my head, I’ve given him two paths. He can either be my father-in-law, the man who protects my interests... or he can be the man I use to destroy his son. He can be the man I 'cheat' on Chase with in the very house Chase built his lies in. I don't know what I'll do with him yet, but I know one thing—he won't be controlling me, I am done with these hemmingway controlling my life."

"God, I love a good revenge," Lawrose said, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the fridge. "We are celebrating. This isn't a funeral; it's a coronation."

"If you're going back as a boss girl, your look has to change," Serayah said, already heading for her closet. "No more soft floral dresses. No more 'dutiful wife' cardigans. You need a full wardrobe change. You need to be that girl all round."

"You are right! And that reminds me, we should go shopping," Giselle said.

“Shopping? With what money? Girl you spent your entire savings trying to organize a valentine get away for your Ex. You can simply raid my closet..” Serayah had barely finished what she was saying before Giselle cut her short.

“No way! I am not starting this new phase with hand me downs, apologies serayah, but we would go shopping” Giselle said dismissively.

“But Giselle…” Serayah tried to speak.

“You heard her! We are going shopping” Lawrose clapped.

“You always indulge her!” Serayah yelled.

“That’s why we are her friends” Lawrose rounded up.

“They will fear my return!” Giselle laughed.

"They will be," Lawrose promised, popping the cork. "By the time we’re done with you tomorrow, the Hemingways won't know what hit them.."

Giselle took the glass of champagne, the bubbles stinging her throat. She looked at the glass of champagne and the way it bubbled, she took another sip.

"Twenty-four hours," she whispered. "The countdown starts now."