Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

Chelsea’s POV

I tossed and turned underneath the silk covers, I snapped up in annoyance and turned my head to check the time: 12:36am.

I sighed, I couldn’t sleep and when I finally did the memory of the death of my chauffeur replayed in my dreams, the man who made me laugh everyday driving me to and from school was gone. It made me furious that he didn’t even die a normal death but was killed, by someone who wanted to kill me.

In the morning I couldn’t build up the courage to get up and start my day, my birthday. When I finally did I went downstairs to see policemen at the door talking to a sobbing Lucia.

My chest tightened in fear. “Lucia, what’s going on?”

She turned to find me standing on the end of the stairs. “N-nothing sweetie. Happy Birthday dear.” She walked over to me and gave me hug, she forced a smile.

“W-why are the police here?” I managed to ask.

“No reason-” She lied.

"Wow, you're already 19. It was only yesterday you were running around the house with a princess dress and a wand."  She was trying to avoid the question.

"Lucia." I pleaded her to answer my previous question.

“I think its best we tell her the truth now rather than for her to find out later, besides we need to interrogate her.” One of the two policeman interrupted.

“Tell me what?”

“Your chauffeur is dead, Miss Kenton,” he said.

I froze.

They found his body.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry to inform you this but he was killed, a bullet to the head. His body was found in a smashed up Rolls Royce in East London.  Do you know what he was doing there?”

“No, she doesn’t, she was at her friends party- here in Chelsea not somewhere in-”

“Yes.” I owned up regardless of what Lucia had just said.

“W-what?!” Lucia clearly didn’t believe me.

“Yes, I do know what he was doing there.” I said blankly staring outside the open door.

“Right, if you don’t mind. We’re going to have to take you to the station for an interrogation.” The policeman said.

I looked at Lucia, who was shocked, before nodding.

The trip to the police station was about 20 minutes, the car door was opened for me by one of the policemen. As I stepped out, I gave him a small smile of thanks.

Inside the station, we walked past several cells before entering a room with a table and two chairs, they were all made of metal making it displeasing to look at or even sit on.

“Take a seat, Miss Kenton.” It was a different policeman to the ones that I spoke to earlier, probably an analyst or detective but I just went with it.

I hesitated but finally sat down on one of the chairs, the unfamiliar policeman sealed the door before sitting on the chair in front of me, behind the desk that had a pen and a piece of paper.

“So what was Mr Longson doing in the South East of London driving in your family’s Rolls Royce that is usually used for picking you up and taking you to places?” He questioned looking down at the notes that were given to him, probably by the detectives.

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