Chapter Six

It had been a while since I had been shopping. It was a stress relief antidote, apart from swimming. I sometimes didn't want to spend Father's money, knowing the great lengths of evil he went to make it.

The sun shone brilliantly in the sky and as much as I would have loved to just lie down and soak the sun in, I was only allowed to do so back at home. The perk of being noticed by potential threats was a constant feeling like a gun was pointed at the back of my head— I don't mean that figuratively by the way. It literally happened once before, with a rebel bodyguard. Since then, Father went to great lengths to investigate anyone who worked for me.

I walked into the mall, drowning out the sounds of the noises, hustling, and bustling of the city. They all seemed to melt away as the mall was way more tranquil, and only a hum of commerce remained.

I hadn't talked to Jace much and he seemed to prefer it, or maybe not. I couldn't really tell from his curt chin and unreadable eyes. He walked behind me and I couldn't help but think he carried an air of importance around him with his $2000 suit and courtesy of Father. I had to say, Father treated his staff well. Jace was quiet, only speaking to the microphone in his ear at intervals. I really wished Isabella was free to be here today, at least I understood her.

I took off my shades inside the mall and went to the boutique section, scanning the clothes lined up as the new releases. I had almost all of them already. I got some of them again. I could get them as gifts for the staff.

I put my hand into my purse to take out my card and my hand wrapped something. My fingers trembled as I realized it was my bottle of pills. Isabella had probably put them in, in case I had another panic attack. I had told her I didn't want to be chemically dependent.

I thrust the bottle behind me to Jace without looking at him.

“Trash this,” I instructed firmly. My voice was steady but it was very different from how my insides felt.

He hesitated before he agreed. I felt his eyes boring into the back of my head, but he didn't say another word.

Sunday came rolling by a few hours later and I found myself in church with Father, after over six years. The smell of the incense saturated the air and made me feel nauseous. I hated the scent. It was mingled with the smell of old wood and the quest from the congregation to be the best dressed.

I looked at the painting on the church window of Jesus and his disciples and a feeling of nostalgia filled me. This had been my church since I was little and it brought back fond memories of my mum.

Father was a devout Catholic and was a firm believer in Christ. I didn't have his beliefs. I felt like I was a glass figurine. I felt fragile and out of place in this gathering.

The moment of the chorus was an uplifting moment for me, not because of this song, but because I had the opportunity to shout at the top of my lungs without anyone asking if I was crazy. I screamed obscenities into the air, mostly words I had been meaning to tell Father, and I felt a lot better afterward.

After the service, the churchgoers flocked towards us like ants gathering something sweet. I felt my bodyguards looking at me. Even Jace, who was recently added to my security detail, already knew I didn't do well with this large crowd of people, swarming us. My breath hitched, and Father's hand on my waist urging me on, wasn't helping. I felt the surroundings closing in on me as my breath came out of my pants. Father noticed my stance then. He didn't like weakness and I wasn't about to show it to him. Just when I felt like I would need a bathroom break, I felt a pill being slipped into my trembling hands. I turned swiftly to see Jace, his eyes met mine and a silent understanding passed between us. I moved to adjust my heels and slipped the pill in my mouth. This medication had been my lifeline on several occasions, didn't mean it worked very fast. Father was already tapping me to get up.

“Chantelle, my darling! We have missed you."

Ms Eugene was speaking. I was very irritable but I was calmer now. I didn't want to engage in mindless chit chat with the town's gossip. I knew she was only greeting me because she was fishing for something to tell people. She didn't really care that I was back. Maybe she heard that I was a playgirl in Europe like my dad had heard, and she was ready to judge me.

“How was Europe?” She inquired, her eyes like that of a hawk.

I could play that card. She always lied to her friends that her husband was in Spain for business, but no one had ever seen him.

Meanwhile, he was locked up in jail for money laundering. It was a wonder she managed to keep up appearances with the most elite women in society all these years.

“Oh! Ms Eugene! Europe was great.”

By now, the pill had gone down easily. It felt like a welcome relief which I was thankful for.

Her smile faltered, “It's Mrs Eugene.” She sounded almost scared.

“Did I say, Miss?” I laughed heartily, “My bad!”

With that, she scurried off like a rabbit running to its hole.

I greeted everyone and embraced so many people I couldn't count. I felt better already.

After the introductions, I went to the foyer to get some air.

“Chantelle?”

The voice sounded awfully familiar.

I turned and my eyes grew large as they fell on Sam Anderson.