Prevail - [Charles Leclerc]

Deux

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, a towel wrapped around his hips. No, he wasn't going to shave. The stubble looked good on him, he thought. Charles dropped the towel and put it in the bin, getting into some clean underwear. He walked out of the bathroom to get to his clothes, and he got himself in his slacks, tucking the white shirt into it and securing the belt around his slacks. He turned to the mirror in the corner of his bedroom, and buttoned his shirt, but leaving the upper ones opened. Charles sat down to tie his shoes, and afterward he walked over to his desk, picking a watch from one of the boxes. A ring was put around his fingers, a simple chain necklace around his neck. He styled his hair with some gel, blow-drying it to his satisfaction. He looks good and he knows it. Charles spritzed some of his cologne on his neck, and then pushed his phone in his pocket to get back downstairs. As the host of the party, he wanted to make sure everything was arranged according to his wishes, and he left to the restaurant an hour before the guests would arrive. 

The restaurant was decorated stunningly, the lights both inside and outside creating a nice atmosphere. The interior of the restaurant itself is gorgeous, and as the menu never failed, Charles didn't hesitate to plan his birthday dinner here. The owner knew the Leclerc family by now, and as Charles generously paid for it, the whole restaurant was opened only for his birthday party tonight. The staff was busy preparing everything ahead of the arrival of the guests, plates with glass filled with champagne ready to be taken out. The chef took him through the kitchen, showing the ingredients of the dishes and the menu they had set up for him. It was as perfect as he expected. While Charles himself wasn't necessarily a perfectionist in his personal life, he was in his working life, and he expected the same from everything and anyone else. It bothered him hugely when things didn't go according to the agreement or the plans made with someone else. 

It didn't take long before the first guests arrived, and he greeted them at the door of the restaurant. Charles didn't remain at the door the whole time, and once the restaurant started to flood with people, he gladly moved between them to catch up and have a couple of drinks. His mother was chatting with some of her friends, wives of older partners who had known his parents. Charles was content that everything was going smoothly, adoring the presents people left at the table for him or his crew. He didn't want any presents, however, everyone felt a little obliged to bring something for Charles anyway. When it was time to enjoy the first course, everyone gathered around the round tables in the restaurant, and Charles sat down next to his brother, squeezing his shoulders before taking a seat himself. Arthur grinned, seeing people looking over at Charles slightly expectfully. "I think you should do a speech," the younger Leclerc said. "No, it's fine," Charles shook his head, but before he could stop it, Arthur took a spoon and clanked it against the side of his glass a couple of times, easily causing all the attention to divert to their table and gentle silence took over.

"Well, thanks, Arthur," Charles chuckled, causing people to laugh. He stood up. "I think everyone is here now and-..." He was interrupted by the door of the restaurant opening, three persons coming on. Charles parted his lips to say speak up, looking over at his mother with a slight frown between his eyebrows before directing his eyes to the people again. "Excuse me, who are you?" 

      Sara Abril wanted to disappear in thin air when the man asked who they were. Her cheeks blossomed red with embarrassment, they were already late and now the birthday guy in particular didn't even know who they were. And her father had boated about their great relationship with the crew of the Leclercs. His crystal eyes briefly darted over to her. "Charles, they are old family friends," Pascale spoke up. "Matteo, Sara, Victoria, please have a seat," she smiled kindly. "Can we have some music, please?" The restaurant was soon filled with music, and as the people were distracted by the first course being served, the chatter rose again, and the attention shifted away from them. "We are very sorry for being so late. The helicopter from Nice to here was delayed a little," Matteo explained. Sara looked at her father for a moment, gnawing at her bottom lip after taking a deep breath. She had no idea why she had to come along, she didn't even know these people, and she much rather wanted to spend a weekend alone in Valencia.

"I didn't invite them," Charles said, the look in his eyes hardening, watching how the three Abrils took a glass of champagne from the plate when the waitress passed by. "Charles, it's fine," Pascale tried to shush him. "Why are you here?" Charles asked, and the tone of his voice started to irritate Matteo. "Let's get it on the table right away," he started. "Your mother made a deal twenty-one years ago, resulting in a marriage between you and my daughter Sara. Today is the day we come to take our part of the deal. You should be a little more polite to your in-laws, Leclerc," Matteo bit. Sara's face went white when she heard the words of her father. What the fuck was going on? Charles looked confused at first, but then realized what Matteo said. His eyes darkened, an angry glance visible, his posture hardening. The glass of champagne slipped from between Sara's fingers and hit the floor, and while everyone was watching them again, her father took the moment. "What a great day to witness the birthday of Charles, who has taken the hand of my daughter!" People cheered, assuming it was all meant to be.

The look Charles directed at Sara, with the disgust, the hatred, the pain, the betrayal, pierced straight through her heart, and they hadn't even exchanged a single word yet. Charles pushed through the doors of the restaurant, and left, making wish they never came here.