36

Lawrose and Serayah looked at each other in total disbelief, but they followed her closely as she walked into the center of the room.

"Will you be needing assistance today, Mrs. Hemingway?" the attendant asked.

"Yes," Giselle said, looking around at the vast expanse of sophisticated fury allure. "I definitely need more hands. I plan on being quite thorough."

The attendant raised a hand and signaled. Within seconds, four more attendants came rushing over, standing in a neat line.

"Please assist Mrs. Hemingway with whatever she requires," the head attendant commanded. "Treat her with utmost care."

Lawrose looked at Serayah. "She might actually own it by the time we leave. Is this even real life? Someone tell me I am dreaming"

Giselle ignored them. She pointed toward the back of the store. "Point me to the most expensive segment. The haute couture line."

The attendant led her toward a raised platform where the lighting was softer and the fabrics looked like liquid gold. Giselle walked up to the first rack.

"You," she said to one of the new assistants. "Take everything from the Valeria line. And you, take the Midnight Velvet wracks. Lines one, four, and seven. All of them."

Serayah’s jaw dropped so far it was a wonder it didn't hit the floor. "Giselle! What are you doing? You just bought wracks of painfully expensive dressed in less than thirty seconds!"

Giselle turned around, looking genuinely puzzled. "Weren't we here to shop? Why are you standing there like statues?"

Serayah grabbed Giselle’s arm and dragged her into a quiet corner behind a velvet curtain.

Lawrose followed, looking like he was about to have a heart attack and a shopping spree at the same time.

"Explain this," Serayah demanded. "Right now. What is going on?"

"You are embarrassing me, Serayah," Giselle said, pulling her arm away. "We are here to shop. We need clothes. My old wardrobe is full of things a frightened little girl would not even wear. I am not that girl anymore."

"Not until you spill where you got the money you want to spend so foolishly!" Serayah whispered fiercely. "Did you rob a bank? Is Richard paying for this? Because if he is, there are strings attached that will strangle us all!"

Giselle leaned in, her eyes cold. "No Richard isn’t paying for anything. I am not spending my beloved husband’s money foolishly, Serayah. On the night he asked me for a divorce, he threw his money in my face. He laughed at me. He reminded me how I have been such a foolish, understanding wife all these years. His actions indirectly told me I never asked for enough than I deserved. He reminded me of how cheap I was."

She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring.

"While his whores were going on luxury vacations and buying diamonds on his dime, I was at home clipping my pennies and worrying about the grocery budget just to be a 'good wife.' It did make him a good fortune that I wasn’t a spend freak, so No, This is me taking back those years. As long as I am still in this damn marriage with Chase. I am going to spend like a fucking Hemingway. I am just starting to enjoy myself, so please, be quiet and shop."

Giselle turned on her heel and walked back into the main area. "I want that entire rack of coats packed up! And the shoes! Bring me every pair in a size five!"

Lawrose watched her go, a slow smile finally breaking across his face. He looked at Serayah. "Well. It looks like we just unlocked the devil’s spawn. And quite frankly? I am obsessed with her."

"Lawrose, don't you dare," Serayah warned.

"I don't know about you, darling, but I am so going to shop," Lawrose said, adjusting his collar. "If Mrs Hemingway’s bank account is open for business, I am definitely the lead consultant."

He hurried after Giselle, waving at one of the attendants. "You! Darling! Lead me to your most androgynous fashion line. I need something that says 'I am rich and I might sue you for staring at me instead of fangirling me '!"

Serayah stood alone in the corner, watching her two best friends tear through the most expensive boutique in the city.

She looked at the price tag on a nearby scarf. It was more than her monthly rent.

"This is going to end in a bloodbath," she whispered to herself.

But then, she looked at Giselle. She saw the way her friend was standing—back straight, chin up, commanding the room.

For the first time in years, Giselle was finally living her unapologetic self again.

Serayah sighed, a small smile finally tugging at her lips. She walked out of the corner and grabbed a slip dress from a passing attendant.

"If we're going down in flames," Serayah muttered, "we might as well look incredible while we burn."

Giselle watched them from across the room. She felt a strange, cold thrill in her chest. Every swipe of the black titanium card felt like a strike against Chase’s ego and she pictured the madness going through his head when he sees the barrage of debit alerts.

"Is there anything else, Mrs. Hemingway?" the head attendant asked, looking at the mountain of boxes already piling up near the door.

"The jewelry case," Giselle said, not even blinking.

"Bring the whole thing over. I have a dinner to attend tonight, and I find I am suddenly very fond of diamonds."

The attendant nodded quickly. "Right away, madam."

Giselle looked at her reflection in the full length gold mirror. She didn't see the shy girl she used to be. The woman she saw was finally learning how to use the weapons that had been used against her for years and she was unapologetic about it.

"I'm coming for you, Chase," she whispered to her reflection. "And I'm going to make sure you pay for every single penny of tears you caused me."

She turned back to the racks, her eyes searching for the next target.

"Line ten!" Giselle called out. "Pack it up! Everything!"

Lawrose cheered from the shoe department. "That’s my girl! Pack it all up sister girl! Pack it up!"