10th Commandment | Revamped

Chapter 19

After some time...

Fantasia bid goodnight to her crew and took her awkward, so-called new bride back home. They headed to Fantasia's penthouse.

The two of them weren't really chatting much; Carter typically did most of the talking while Fantasia was lost in her own thoughts, her mind swirling with a million things, especially when she wanted to avoid being "in the moment."

When they reached the house, Carter asked, "I'm going to take a shower. Want to join me?" "No, I've got some work stuff to take care of," Fantasia replied. Carter nodded and headed up the stairs, casting a meaningful glance at the housekeeper.

"How long is she sticking around?" the housekeeper inquired, looking over at Fantasia. Fantasia chuckled softly. "A while. You might as well get used to her—it's something we both need to do," she said. The housekeeper sighed. "Well, I'm out," she said as she left the house.

Fantasia poured herself a glass of wine and made her way to the deck. She noticed a glass of whiskey resting there and, after glancing around, approached it. Underneath the glass, there was a note. She moved the glass aside, picked up the note, and opened it.

*Guess this is it. Fantasia, I'm still furious about what you did to my friend, and I doubt I'll ever forget how you cut his life short like that. But for now, I’ll let it slide. Enjoy your little sham of a marriage without looking over your shoulder. I'm cutting the ties; you're free, at least for now! Just remember, my forgiveness comes with a hefty price. Congratulations, though—you're a pro at this game, that much I’ll give you. Now go have a real drink; that wine won't help you with the woman you're not attracted to. Good luck with that!*

After finishing the note, Fantasia folded it up and stuffed it in her pocket before taking a hearty swig from the whiskey glass.

One Week Later.

At a rented venue, the FBI Agents were throwing a retirement bash for their board chair. It was the kind of event where everyone was expected to bring a plus one.

Carter had invited Fantasia to be her plus-one. While there, Fantasia realized she technically owned half of the bureau, yet the agents kept their distance—they didn’t want to be seen with her. After all, she still had a reputation as the “bad guy,” and some of the agents were practically glued to her every move.

"Man, this party is a total bust!" Fantasia muttered under her breath. "Maybe it’s just you that makes it boring," she quipped with a smirk before turning to Taraji.
"Couldn’t agree more," Fantasia said, raising her champagne glass. Taraji mirrored her gesture, and they clinked glasses. Fantasia bit her lip while sizing up Taraji, but Taraji quickly averted her gaze.
"You really have no shame showing your face here," Taraji shot back. "What’s the worst that could happen? Are you going to search me?"
"That’s not my job, but someone might—it’s pretty obvious how they’re sneaking glances and whispering," Taraji replied.
"Maybe they just love my outfit," Fantasia joked. Taraji eyed her up and down. Fantasia looked stunning, and Taraji gulped.
"You look great," Fantasia added.
"I always do," Taraji retorted, clearly irked by the compliment. "Goodnight!" she said sharply, handing her champagne flute off to a passing tray.

Fantasia watched her leave, heading towards the parking lot, clearly done for the night. She turned to find a waiter to give her own champagne glass too but saw no one around in her haste and ended up dropping it. The sound echoed dramatically in the room as she feigned a gasp, pretending it was an accident before quickly slipping out.

Outside:

Once outside, she spotted Taraji with a guy by her car. He opened the door for her, and after sharing a quick kiss, she climbed in and waved as the car drove off. "Damn it!" Fantasia whispered to herself.