Chapter 219 219
Sabine’s POV
I need to get out of here.
If he keeps drinking, he’ll pass out soon.
With that thought anchoring me, I slide off the counter and open the fridge. I take out two bottles of beer. Carrying them over, I extend one toward him, waiting for him to open it for me.
He looks at me first really looks. His gaze lingers far too long, crawling over my face in a way that makes my skin prickle. Then, finally, he twists the cap off and hands the bottle back.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
The feminine voice makes me jump. I glance warily at the guard as he turns, completely unbothered by the newcomer.
He was expecting her.
Who the hell was she?
“I’m eighteen…” I reply.
“Oh.” She tilts her head. “You look younger.” Then, sharply, she turns to him. “You go help my father.”
The guard groans, switches off the television, and sets his beer down on the table before stalking past me, scowling at the woman.
“I’m Clémence,” she says, offering a poised smile.
She’s well dressed immaculate. Tailored. Polished. Like Father.
Well… she’s wearing a dress. Father doesn’t wear dresses.
That I know of.
“…Geneviève asked me to check on you.”
“She did?” I ask quickly. “Where is she?”
I watch her perfectly styled brown hair bounce against her shoulders. I know how hard that is to achieve a proper blow-dry isn’t easy on your own. I spent years practicing before Father bought me heated rollers for Christmas.
“She’s away on business,” Clémence replies smoothly. “She’ll be here when she can. She asked that you stay here tonight, and then she’ll know what to do.”
“What to do?” Her words feel deliberately vague carefully crafted to sound like answers without actually being any.
“Just for tonight,” she says softly, touching my arm. She smiles sweetly, eyelashes fluttering. “I promise.”
“Okay…” I agree, swallowing hard.
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth from her performance.
The guard returns, hauling in a couple more boxes and dumping them on the floor with the others.
Alright maybe he isn’t as scrawny as I thought if he can carry that much.
“Clémence” a male voice calls from downstairs.
She leaves without another word and doesn’t return that night.
What in the love of God is going on?
Maybe I shouldn’t have run away after all.
But Father’s constant lies and manipulation were becoming unbearable.
I’ve been stuck in that apartment building since I was twelve. Twelve. Don’t get me wrong it has a large balcony where I stretch out and do yoga, my favourite place. There’s plenty to keep me occupied.
But six years.
Everyone came to me. Tutors. Hair stylists. Everyone.
I lived with Mum until she passed away. She worked high up in the financial district and always made sure I was cared for. I was popular. I had friends. I even had a boyfriend.
Then bang.
She died, and everything changed.
Father appeared. Said I was legally his now. Said he was going to take good care of me. Help me manage the money Mum left behind.
I was meant to receive it at sixteen.
Sixteen turned into eighteen.
At eighteen, he said I wasn’t ready. That I’d have to wait until I was twenty-one.
It’s my money.
Mum’s money.
He doesn’t get to swoop in and take control like he knows what’s best for me. To hell with that. I’m eighteen, and I know I’m entitled to it.
Geneviève was supposed to help me.
Instead, I learned quickly that she’s a liar just like Father.
I noticed it early on. The way she pretended to care. Pretended she wanted to be my friend. Once, when she thought I wasn’t looking, she sneered at me. A cruel, ugly expression she didn’t bother to hide.
I’d been so excited to have someone visit me. Someone who asked about me, who took the time.
It hurt.
I felt betrayed.
Father was probably paying her just like he paid everyone else.
With my money.
So I decided to get a little revenge. Let her think I didn’t know. Let her believe she was fooling me when for once, I was the one playing the game.
And now here I am.
Carrying out my revenge…
Without her even being a bloody part of it.