𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬 [charles leclerc]

prologue

      
       "YOU PROMISED YOUR father." Boomed through the grand Manor amidst one of the wealthiest suburbs of Monte Carlo, Monaco. It was one of the most important days within the small principality, and therefore every socialite was alert as gossip seemed to spread like wildfire.

Her stepmother had been yelling to her for over ten minutes at this point, going on and on about the importance of her presence at the event. The young adult only turned up the volume of the television, occasionally looking outside when she heard the fast cars speed through the narrow streets.

       "I never did such a thing. What do you take me for? I would never promise such a thing." The brunette girl finally answered with a feigned astonishment, a hand crossed over het chest as if she was hurt by the accusation.

       "You told him you would come." The older woman argued back, testing the waters with hitting a sensitive nerve. This was not the first argument between the two that week, and certainly would not be the last.

       "I said that I may make a short appearance." She corrected, raising an eyebrow as she swiftly looked away from the screen.

       "Then what changed?" The older woman questioned exasperated.

       "My mood." The girl answered, simple as that. There was no need to cover the plain truth of her nuisance towards her stepmother who so desperately wished to have the picture perfect wealthy family.

       "Listen, demoiselle, your father cares very much about you, he always has but you have never shown any respect to him." Her patience had run out and she pointed her finger in a derogatory manner towards the twenty two year old as if she was a child.

       "Kind off lost that when he married you." The demoiselle answered in a low tone as she walked towards the vanity in her room, facing herself in the mirror, as she took her large earrings out. "The relationship I have with my father is none of your concern."

       "Do not get that attitude with me. I am still your—"

       "No you're not." The girl chuckled maniacally, directing her dark, almond shaped eyes at her stepmother in the reflection. "Get. Out." She emphasised each word. Fed up with the disobedience, the woman stomped out of the chamber with her new red bottoms. "This is an absolute joke." The girl sighed as peace had dawned upon her room inside the mansion again, the humming sound of a car dashing past arising every now and then. "Stupid puppet show with champagne and diamonds." She murmured mockingly as she stood up from the vanity to look at the designated outfits, her fingers sliding over the smooth fabric of the delicate dresses.