CHAPTER ONE

Chantelle's POV

I sat yoga-style inside the pool as I sorted out my thoughts. I was trying so hard to remember what I did last night as I partied. I could easily ask but I was afraid of what would be said, or the judgment that would follow.

Hell, I didn't even remember getting home!

This was the only place I felt truly free, inside water.

I had just returned from “my exile to Europe” as I like to call it.

Father never wanted me around, so he always sent me far away for my schooling in the guise that their education was better than back home. I had gotten used to this— the fact that he was meant to be a businessman, not a father.

Mamɑ̃ had been the most gentle, and the most loving woman I had ever known. She spoke little English but she was the best mother to me. I was much closer to her than I was to Father, which made her death so painful to bear to date.

I don't know how she managed to fall in love with Father, a simple girl from a small village in France. Life was so much more bearable when she was around.

Now, where was I?

Oh yes! The party… I remember getting off the private jet and asking for the hottest club in town, drinking too many shots of tequila and…

“Chantelle! Chantelle!”

I opened my eyes.

Just then I heard a whoosh sound as I emerged from the water, patting my hair down and wiping my eyes with my hands. I smiled as I saw Isabella Logan, my best friend and bodyguard. She was currently on duty at around this hour.

Isabella had a small frown on her face.

“You've got to stop doing that!” She got out and winced as she saw that her outfit was ruined.

“You've got to stop doing that!” I mimicked and laughed as I came out, more gracefully than she did. I grabbed a towel from a chair. “You know I always get out when I feel better, but you always jump in. That's not my fault!”

“You had stayed past your limit. It's my job to worry.” She grumbled.

Isabella was the perfect bodyguard. I believe she was chosen for me because she looked my age. It was so easy for her to blend in, so people didn't know that I had someone there with me to protect me. She was always with me when I went out.

Being the heiress of a billion-dollar conglomerate, made things very tedious for me, as people always had to attend to my every need.

I couldn't go to the bathroom without a freaking bodyguard!

“I'm craving that sauce Madam Leah prepares. Is she busy? How is she?”

Isabella gave me a reprimanding look, “She was waiting to receive you yesterday but you chose the club over her….”

Even though Isabella was always upset at how I lived my life, she seemed to get my actions — though unhealthy— but she never seemed to judge.

“If you have something to say, just say it!" I said firmly.

“Really?” She asked warily, “Remember the last time I did that? You threw a vase at me!”

“You came at me at a bad time!” I said, “And you… you look like crap… can't you change?” Her suit and pants were thoroughly soaked, and that was not a good look on her.

“My shift is not over until noon.” She sighed, “I think we need to request a different therapist for you. You're not getting any better.”

I was done with this conversation, “I'm going to see Madam Leah and I don't want you anywhere around me!”

“She's my mother, you know? She'll naturally take my side.” Isabella said smiling.

“Haha… very funny,” I replied and went upstairs to my room, Isabella following me. I had wanted her to follow so she could get changed. I wasn't in the habit of taking pleasure in being the reason for someone being uncomfortable. Much less she staying in her wet clothes, all in the name of 'duty'.

As usual, all my things had been unpacked and put where they were meant to be without me having to lift a finger.

This was my childhood bedroom, but it had been redesigned to fit my current taste. The room brought back so many memories.

I didn't remember sleeping here last night but I realized I was here when I woke up this morning. I went through my wardrobe and put on a simple outfit— I threw an outfit at Isabella and she rolled her eyes dramatically at me.

“You know I put on my uniform when I'm on duty.”

“You're my bodyguard, not Father's.”

Isabella didn't budge.

I pushed the gown into her hands and said in a tone that didn't give room for argument, “Wear this!”

She took it from me then.

Afterwards, we went to the attachment behind the mansion, where Madam Leah and Isabella lived. It was a small cottage, but it was very homely and smelled faintly of cookies and rosemary. It was a smell I was used to very well, and I could easily think of the delicious scent whenever I thought of Madam Leah.

I saw her then, in an apron cutting up some vegetables. She lifted her eyes and her smile lit up her face and her eyes as she ran to me and squeezed me in her arms in a hug, smooching my face and asking so many questions, not giving me time to answer.

I laughed.

Madam Leah had practically raised me after Mamɑ̃ passed. She had tried desperately to make sure I didn't feel the absence of Mamɑ̃. She was a sweet small chubby woman and always had a smile on her face. Looking at her, I was ashamed of my decisions these past few years. With the way she looked at me with so much adoration, it was obvious she didn't know anything, other than for the fact that I was still that sweet little girl she had raised.

I looked at Isabella who always seemed to read my mind and gave her a smile of appreciation for not telling her mother anything. She would be pained to hear half of them. Madam Leah was the only one whom I could feel remorse towards, and I would not want to hurt her in any way.

“Well, school was okay.”

“Oh my smart miss! I'm sure you did well.” She smiled, patting my chin, “You're just in time, I prepared your favorite.” She proceeded to serve me a plate.

I salivated and once served, I munched hungrily, eliciting a giggle from her.

“Oh my gosh! I've missed this!” I said.

She smiled.

Madam Leah had served the house since Mamɑ̃ was alive and had been very close to her. I liked being around her because she had so many stories to tell me and indulged my guilty pleasures… food I knew I wouldn't be able to eat at the table without Father giving me the stink eye or saying something offensive.

JJ as I call her came in just then, looking as stiff as ever. She used to be in the military, a firm believer in playing by the rules, and my oldest bodyguard to date. I always wondered why she never quit like the others. Maybe she just really liked her work. I never could tell. She never really opened up to me.

Her real name was Jennifer Jordan, but I liked calling her JJ. I couldn't see myself calling my bodyguards by their surnames like Father did.

If JJ was here, that meant the moment I had dreaded since getting home had come— having to face Father. The last time we had seen was at Mamɑ̃'s memorial six years ago in France, and that day he barely said two words to me before he left with his entourage.

Remembering that day and how I stood by her gravestone, I felt a heaviness in my heart.

“Chantelle, your father is waiting for you in the dining hall.” JJ was saying to me.

My moment of happiness died immediately. Madam Leah smiled at me urging me to go on.

If I were to be honest, I wish I was still passed out on my bed from last night's activities, so I don't have to face Father. But, I didn't want my cash flow to stop, so I put in the effort to go through an elaborate seven-course meal with the estranged man I called Father.