CHAPTER SIX: A BLACK CARD DELIGHT

JAELLE

Anya sat too close to me, worry lingering on her face, but I knew better than to fall for something like this. Sofia showed me love and care when all she wanted was to make my life miserable. To take Marcus from me because she could.

“You can ask me anything, and I will help.”

Bastina had been too fearful, too loving. Could it be that there were some problems between them?

“Anya, I might be strange because…”

"It's fine; I don't mind; all that matters is that you are fine now. It might take a while, but we are going to uncover the truth and find out who is behind this.” She was too enthusiastic about it, and I pulled an uneasy smile.

“About that night… I keep having flashes.” I paid attention, trying to gauge her reaction, but nothing but concern was laced in them. “Was I arguing with Bastina?”

“Of course not; it's a surprise you and Bastina have grown fonder now,” she murmured with a smile. Was she happy for me? Was I being hard on her? Projecting my insecurities onto her? Was she a good friend to Jaelle or just the kind to stab you when you lowered your guard?

“But then you both used to clash, but you always let him win,” she said, a smile forming as she remembered. I hated that she was remembering everything I couldn't. “You hated his guts but still loved him,” she finished.

“About Clarisse?” I pretended to hesitate. I didn't need a fortune teller to know she wasn't my friend. She wanted my husband, and she was not trying to hide it from anyone.

“Don’t get me started on her.” She rolled her eyes, turning to me and getting into the real gossip mode. “She always claimed that she was to be married to Bastina, but after the incident, you became his wife, and since then, she and his mother have been giving you a tough time.”

“Incident?”

“I want to tell you, but I want you to remember it on your own.”

Her words didn't help; my mind was going to be spinning until I knew what that incident was. If I were given a fresh start, why did it seem like an impossible task?

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“Let me guess, my mother-in-law doesn't like me.”

It was not hard to see how much Eleanor thought I was worthless; her expression and words were enough for me. She shifted in her seat and held my hand.

“She is a mother who thinks everyone is not good enough for her son…” It was obvious Anya didn't like her, but she didn't want to be accused of sowing discord.

“But Clarisse,” I finished for her. I sighed as the picture was coming to me.

My marriage to Bastina wasn't because I loved him but because there was something that brought us together. This was a premium rich people’s problem, the kind you'd find in movies and books that felt like it was never going to happen, but here I was living the reality.

I have been poor all my life. How was I supposed to navigate rich people’s problems without losing my mind?

“What is important now is that Bastina is on your side and you are the real Lady Montrose,” she finished.

‘If I were the real Lady Montrose, why did someone try to kill me?’ That was the question I had to answer.

Her words were supposed to make me feel better, relieved, but then there was this baggage staying with me. The one I couldn't place yet, quite shake off, because I knew that there was a lot more being held in the future for me.

“I have an idea to cheer you up.” Her face held a sly smile, and no matter how much I shook my head, she pulled me up, her eyes shining with mischief.

“Let's go shopping.”

“Shopping?” She nodded, holding my fingers and squeezing them. “Why would we…”

“There is going to be a party held in your honour, and we both know that the best way to take your mind off anything is to shop.”

“I don't think it's a good idea for us to be out shopping while I can't remember anything.”

I was more afraid of ruining Jaelle’s life. What if I had to leave this body, and she came to meet a mess? My life was complicated enough; there was really no need to complicate more than one person’s life at once.

“Oh, come on, the black card your husband gave you wouldn't go to waste like this.”

Black card? Was that a real thing? I was sure it was something that movie and book writers had made up to separate the rich from the poor, but when I dragged open the entirely arranged drawer, there was a black card sitting prettily.

“He gave you this card for expenses, but you have never once used it.”

“Then I can't use it.”

“Why not? You said you didn't want to spend his money because it felt like he was paying you for your love. Now that we know it goes both ways, what is your excuse?”

I wanted to hold her shoulders and scream at her, to tell her that if the real owner of the body wasn't going to spend the money, then why should I?

“No excuses, right? I thought as much.” She flipped her hair out of her face and smirked, taking out the card and pretending to swipe it. “We are going to have a blast today.”

She was adamant, and I had no idea how to deter her, so I just went along with it. As we stepped into the mall, everyone was fishing to get us into the store. My little research on the way over had named Bastina Montrose as the richest man in the city and growing, and his wife, Jaelle, as the luckiest woman around.

I found articles dated a year back, when they had first gotten married, and about how much Jaelle was crucified for ruining the seemingly perfect engagement between Clarisse and Bastina and how gracefully she had handled it, receiving more compliments and even worse bashing of Jaelle.

She must have been so sad and lonely; she had a family, but it was obvious they didn't want her, and then she had to fight for her husband with a woman who was never engaged to him in the first place.

“Jaelle, your life is even more sad than mine,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said we should go in here.” I pointed, and when I realised what I had pointed to, I was embarrassed.

“Oh damn, girl, you may have lost your memory, but I guess that spark of love is still there.”

“No, I didn't mean…” She pulled me into the lingerie store at once. I just didn't want to expose myself, and now I was shopping for lingerie while Anya gushed about how my husband was going to love it.

She picked out a few pieces of lingerie and asked me to test them. I just pushed them into a bag, eager to get out of the shop as quickly as I could.

“We would take them all.”

“Of course we would.” Anya seemed to be having much more fun with this than I was. Something about the staff thinking I was trying to seduce Bastian felt weird to me.

Anya spent the rest of the day logging us from one store to another, picking out the most expensive and exclusive things. When I expressed my concern about the card and its limit, she laughed.

“My dear, have you forgotten who your husband is?” I didn't know this man, so what was there to forget?

I was exhausted out of my mind by the time we got home; instead of lying in bed, I decided to go hunt in Jaelle’s things. I needed more to go on; the things Anya had said were not enough. It didn't help that no one was willing to tell me anything.

Everything I've heard so far, I could have found online if I searched deep enough. The phone I found neatly in my things rang; I stared at the name plastered across the screen. ‘Sister’, I was not sure if I was supposed to pick up or not.

“Hello.” Her voice sounded like an angel, someone who had been sheltered her entire life and had not had to work a day in their life.

I had seen her face on my internet search – beautiful, fair and gentle. At least according to the people who seemed to have a lot to say about her. Her name was as poetic as she sounded. Lenore Ashford.

“Hello,” my voice paled in comparison to hers; that was a song.

“It really is you,” she scoffed as if she was disappointed. “I just can’t believe it.”

“You don’t sound too happy about me being alive,” the words flowed out. Those words didn't belong to Jaelle; they were mine.

“Jaelle, how can you say something like that?” She was already playing the victim even though there was no one to witness her show.

So this was the kind of person she was: playing the victim and acting as if everyone else was being cruel in this evil world.

“I called to check on you, and you are already painting me out to be a demon. I…”

“Well, are you a demon?”

I wanted to be good, to be the Jaelle they all remembered, but I couldn't just sit and allow them to hurt her like they were some kind of gods.

“Ja…Ja… Jaelle, how can you say something so crass?” She sputtered at the top. I guess I had taken her by surprise.

“I was only asking a question.”

“Bastina must have been right; you seem to have lost your mind.”

Did Bastina tell them that I have lost my mind? How could he say something like that to them?

“Even with my memory gone, my body and mind can still recognise your cruelty,” I replied, my voice managing to keep its composure.

“I only called to…” She sniffed as if she were crying. What was this supposed to be? Was she going to lie and tell everyone that I bullied her? I now regret not recording the conversation.

“...to see if you were okay, and this is how you treat me,” she said between sobs.

“Thank you for your ever-fake care,” I snapped and pressed my lips into a thin line.

“You have been so cruel; you never thanked Mom and Dad once for raising you, and you think you are better than all of us just because you married Bastina.”

She didn't have to say another word; I could hear the jealousy. She hated that I was ‘better than her’. She believed that what I had should be hers. Her words left a familiar pang of pain with me as I sighed.

“I guess I would see you at the banquet.”

“We are only coming because Bastina asked us to.”

“Sure,” I muttered with a nod. I was going to have to set up tests to see who was on my side, and even without one, I already knew that she was going to fail.

“Can’t wait to have you.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth as I swallowed. I dropped the phone onto my lap and rolled my eyes. So much for a family that hates each other.

Anya’s words rang in my head; I had to try on the lingerie to see which one fit. I was not going to have a need for any of them, but I still wanted to see how good her body looked in one. I pulled the red set, which is lacy and very see-through.

I slipped into it and stood in front of the mirror, checking myself out, when a sound from behind startled me. I turned around, and standing with the door closed behind him was my husband, gawking at me.

We both looked like we had a lot to say, but none of us could bring ourselves to speak first, so I did the only logical thing – I ran to the closet door, closing it behind me as my heart rammed into my chest.