Chantele Read online

  CHANTELE

  by

  JASMINA SIDEROVSKI

  Copyright

  Visit Jasmina Siderovski’s websites:

  https://www.empoweringyoursoul.com

  https://www.eys-magazine.com

  Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © Jasmina Siderovski 2018

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or trans

  mitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Jasmina Siderovski

  A Cataloguing in - Publication Entry is available from the National Library of

  Australia.

  Preface

  A hidden past.

  A promise about to be broken.

  Chantele left her past life behind long before becoming Vincent’s wife and having three kids together. She could count the number of people who knew about it on the one hand, and none of them lived with her.

  All of that is about to change. An email on Chantele's father’s computer leads to a series of events she could have never predicted, all tied to a promise she made to her grandfather years ago.

  Vincent is on a mission. He’s heading to his wife’s study to kill a cockroach infestation. Instead, he finds her journal and an encoded plea for help. He learns there’s more to his wife than he’d ever imagined, and that she’s been kidnapped.

  Vincent must come to terms with his wife’s secrets in time to bring her back or lose her forever.

  John, you make my heart melt every day reminding me the blessings of true love.

  You will always be my Romeo.

  I love you heart, and soul, baby.

  My children are the air I breathe, and the light in my heart.

  Always believe in love boys.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part One: 2018 Kensington, London

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Part Two: One Day Earlier

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Part Three: 1950 Stalingrad, Ussr

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part Four: London

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Part Five: The Kensington Oracle London

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About The Author

  Publications:

  Books By Jasmina Siderovski

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  C

  hantele's secret past has resurfaced when she accidentally discovered an email on her father's computer. Remembering a promise, she made to her grandfather, Chantele became more determined than ever to keep her secret safe.

  Chantele is a respected journalist living in Kensington, London. She carefully hid her immeasurable wealth and former identity from her husband, family, and friends, fearing the truth may one day cost her life.

  Vincent Mancini, a government official raised by a working-class Italian family, is set in his ways, enjoying his simple life. He’s an excellent father, raising teenage daughters and a young child smarter than any normal nine-year-old. Happily married to Chantele, the woman of his dreams, Vincent finds himself drawn into her world of mystery, espionage, and conspiracy, seeking answers about his wife's identity.

  Vincent is on a mission to decipher the words he found in a secret diary. A diary Chantele ingeniously left to warn him of the danger the family faces. Vincent vows he will get his family back, and do whatever he needs to, including breaking all the rules of love and everything else life taught him not to do. The grey areas keep his mind hostage, while his obsessive-compulsive-disorder struggles with an imperfect reality.

  PART ONE

  2018 Kensington, London

  CHAPTER 1

  V

  incent's day wasn't as hectic as he thought it would be. His early morning appointment finishing quicker than he anticipated. He didn't complain, as it gave him the chance to run errands before commencing his next lecture at the University where he worked as a part-time physics and mathematics professor.

  With nothing to stop him, Vincent relished skipping the heavy London traffic on the way to his luxurious Victorian mansion in Phillimore, an exclusive estate in the inner suburbs of Kensington, London.

  Vincent's primary job, being a Robotics Design Engineer, saw him working for almost fifteen years with the U.K. Atomic Energy Authority's Centre for Robotics in challenging environments. He carried out research on behalf of the European Union, managing the JET Fusion Project.

  The whole drive home Vincent couldn't stop thinking about the infestation of cockroaches, playing havoc with his Obsessive-Compulsive-Disorder over the past week. He kept noticing them crawling from cavities in the ceiling and scurrying into air conditioning vents throughout the house. Vincent looked forward to his date to get rid of the creepy crawlies. It was his primary priority the minute he got home.

  When he arrived, Chantele wasn't home from work yet, her car missing from the Mancini driveway. Looking around Vincent saw the coast was clear and he quickly stripped, from his tie, down to his underpants. Vincent hated wearing suits and looked forward to ditching his as soon as he got home every day. He entered the house already half naked, less formal wear waiting for him by the door. He loved the free feeling of lighter clothes. The simplicity of a polo shirt and jeans gave him comfort after a hectic day split between the Robotics Centre and lecturing at the University. His home reminded him of a happy place, his wife, and his family. It provided an escape for Vincent, an exit from the rat race, the city, the people, and his students.

  After entering the garage, he blindly reached into a perfectly arranged cupboard, one of the benefits of his O.C.D., and grabbed three cans of roach bombs. He planned to release them inside the manhole of Chantele's attic sanctuary, in an attempt to eradicate the unwelcome pest. Vincent was a man on a mission as he charged up the stairs, eager to evict the intruders from the Mancini household.

  Climbing up the stepladder, Vincent opened the trapdoor to the manhole, hidden in the corner of the upstairs attic, and carefully poked his head inside the pitch-black roof cavity. With nothing out of the ordinary, he reached out to place the spray bombs, unexpectedly bumping his hand against a hard object, almost like a box. Curious, Vincent reached for the item, pulling it out of the dark space, bringing it down into the light.

  A dusty, brown, leather-covered book rested in his hands. He carefully opened the book and scanned the first few pages, his eyes were drawn to a handwritten note. Vincent immediately recognized the penmanship, and his eyes grew wider when he realized it was addressed to him. Shock at the unexpected discovery, Vincent stepped down and sat on a nearby couch Chantele loved dearly. It was a sofa she and Vincent had purchased together on a countryside outing with the kids as they traveled through the villages of Castlereagh.

  Chantele fell in love with the antique piece of furniture the minute she laid her eyes on it while enjoying lunch in one of the 16th Century cottage cafes. The loveseat was an antique; Victo
rian, cameo back, with velvet dressings, in rich mahogany. It belonged to one of the Royals in the 17th Century. Chantele recognized elegance from miles away and was determined not to leave without it.

  She knew how perfect the sofa would look in her private den, in the attic above their bedroom. The only access to that space came via her walk-in wardrobe. She found the area while they’d been remodeling the home, immediately after they first bought it. Vincent agreed to let her have it as a private retreat, always wanting the best for his wife.

  Looking around the room now, Vincent took in Chantele’s uniqueness, including her private collection of designer handbags and shoes. Vincent smiled as he recalled, Chantele’s motto to live by, ‘A lady could never run out of shoes; there was always a pair for every outfit.’ Vincent couldn't understand her fetish for shoes; he could count the total number of pairs he owned on his one hand.

  Vincent read the first line of the letter written by Chantele, “Vincent, My Angel,” A feeling of unease settled over him.

  Vincent forgot about his battle with the little creatures in the roof, focusing instead on the message he’d accidentally stumbled across. He was entranced by it, and his body felt paralyzed as he carefully read the words from his wife, who he’d adored since the moment they’d met in Paris. A woman he loved, so intensely, he couldn't imagine life without her.

  (S.O.S. Letter for Vincent)

  Vincent, my Angel,

  Please, don't be alarmed if you are reading this. It means you have found my journal. My heart belongs to you, and my love for you remains unconditionally eternal. I need you to keep an open mind as you read this. Please understand my actions were meant to protect you and our children.

  There's no time to explain everything; I promise, as you begin to search for the answers, following your emotions will lead you to me. I should warn you; you must only ask the 'right questions,' and be wary of who you talk to. You will need to read between the lines, because our connection, as one heart and soul, is the only chance we have to stay alive. I can't begin to express the endless blessings I feel: in our marriage; our three beautiful and intelligent children; our lessons of life and love. The Universe brought us together because you and I were meant to meet. I'll be forever thankful we found each other and stayed together.

  I realize you aren't programmed to deal with the kind of emotional turmoil you're about to discover in this letter, but there's no other way. We were different people before we met, and you must believe me when I tell you I never meant to hurt you.

  I have betrayed you. I have let you down. I'm not sure if you can ever forgive me after you finish reading this letter.

  Unfortunately, there's a risk you may not be the one reading this message, it may have fallen into the 'wrong hands.' Like everything in life, there's never any guarantee. The only excepts being death and taxes. I'm hoping you appreciate my vagueness and mystery. I depend on the love we have, as one, to prevail for us both. I need you to feel me, Vincent. I need you to keep a clear head and stay true in your heart. More than anything I need you to TRUST ME. Yeah, I know, right? What gives me the green light to preach about trust? I hear you, and I agree!

  Only, a few people can give you the answers you need to find me. Vincent, you know me inside-out, better than anyone. Although right now, there is much more I wish you knew about me…

  I had no choice. The woman you fell in love with, doesn't exist. Chantele's a realization of the woman I'm not, but I always wished I could be. One day you will understand, my betrayal of our family was to protect you all. I lived secretly hoping they never found me, that I’d continue to live in 'Chantele's' world until the end.

  I have likely disappeared, or perhaps even been killed, as you read this. Of course, I can't be sure how long I've been missing. I never dared reveal the secrets of my past, instead wanting to take them to my grave. I hoped to bury it, permanently, along with her.

  I wish I could be in your arms forever. There’s a strong possibility you may never see me again that brings a chill to my heart. However, deep down, I know you will do everything in your power to find me. I’m counting on you, don’t give up on me. I am still alive. In fact, I’m so confident of it that I would bet all my shoes on it, including the vintage Chanel pair.

  You have been with me long enough to use your genius brain to decipher my world. You can build nuclear energy engines, surely you can find me too. Working with numbers taught you to solve equations. I used that strength to highlight a few digits during our time together and strategically I’ve conditioned you to recognize them. It was the only precautionary measure I could think of, setting in place a continuity plan in case something happened to me, ensuring you can rattle the numbers off the top of your head in your sleep. Focus, on everything these numbers represent to me. Calibrate what they express for both of us, and find me.

  You need to find a contact of mine. I can't tell you if this person is male or female, I can’t risk someone else reading this letter instead you. Close your eyes and remember the dinner date where you surprised me with a customized pen. Oh, how much I love that pen. Remember, how impressed we were with the table service that night? Find that person; they will lead you to me.

  You also need to find my closest friend, my walking angel. Perhaps my angel may discover you instead. Are you taking notes, Vincent?

  Please don't have a meltdown - I need you to focus. I know I’m asking a lot, but you will need to harness your inner fear. Vincent, 'forget the rules,' break them all. I understand the challenge, but I also know you can do it

  Don't be afraid to listen to the signs; they are never coincidental. We always say age is experience and lessons learned; sometimes though, age is a word and the mind over-powers experience. Believe in your gut and follow it. It's in your genes.

  You have enough information to discern what I'm not saying. Don't talk to anyone and TRUST NO ONE! Not the authorities, not even your friends. You need to protect our children, take them somewhere safe, and tell them I love them. When they miss me, ask them to close their eyes and look in the darkness, so I can light their heart.

  As for you my darling, don't ever stop loving me you are the light at the end of the tunnel. Trust in our connection and listen to your heart. Go, and get the children packed as quickly as possible. You must leave immediately. You're in my world now, Vincent.

  Loving you always with all my heart and soul.

  Chantele xoxo

  CHAPTER 2

  T

  he Mancini home was elegant, surrounded by natural gardens and views of the London skyline. It was the house Chantele, and Vincent enjoyed renovating. They’d spent years lovingly furnishing it with sentimental pieces that represented them both. Just as they had always dreamed.

  It was a home away from the hustle of London’s busy streets. A haven where they could enjoy being a family, somewhere to raise their three young children. Even a place where they could stay until they grew old and grey together.

  Chantele laid the foundations of their family home smiling and feeling the blessings God had given her. She was living the dream. She decorated their house with love, character, essence, and even a hint of the ‘Wow Factor.’ Joy and happiness highlighted everything about the home. There were beautiful scented candles throughout, different ones leading the way to each room. Every room in the house revealed elegance embossed with a distinctive hint of class but enough restraint to keep the appeal of a cozy home for her husband and children.

  She carefully selected each piece of furniture and artwork to create a picture of their life as a family and the love they shared, creating a sense of peace and comfort for everyone who visited. Chantele enjoyed keeping up with the latest fashion and décor, blending a vintage interior with a contemporary feel. She had an eye for detail and enjoyed embellishing their castle - her Castle. Chantele dreamed of living in her palace with her King during her younger years. A love nest, constructed from all their hopes and dreams they shared.


  Chantele had a lot to deal with in her life. Inside, her heart was broken, torn to shreds by the secret truth haunting her every moment. She learned the hard way to hide the pain and stay true to her personality. It allowed her to create a new life based on her rules about love, life, and the ingredients for happiness. Their home was her sense of release, a sanctuary for Chantele. It was the only place she felt safe while struggling with the harsh reality of a troubled past life, set in place before she was even born.

  Chantele was Juliette to Vincent's Romeo, the true love of his life. They met at a mutual friend's birthday party in Paris twenty years earlier. They fell hostage to each other’s emotions the minute their eyes met, unlike anything the world had seen before. It was as if destiny aligned the stars and moon amongst the planets, shaping their future as one, all within a single heartbeat. They instantly knew their feelings, and as of that night they had a strong sense of belonging; they completed one another.

  The small attic where Vincent stumbled upon Chantele's diary in his mission to destroy the creepy crawlies was where Chantele escaped to for a moment’s peace alone. Chantele sat on the lounge and wrote by hand for hours, dismissing the 21st Century’s innovative progression in technology and fashion. It was her room to dream, think, and quietly reminisce all she'd been through in life and all she was yet to achieve. Her reality was an illusion, and this room provided the seclusion she desperately needed while writing her next best seller.

  Chantele was a successful journalist with the 'The Kensington Oracle.' She was also an author the world only knew under the pen name, 'Charlotte Grace.' Her family and friends had no idea Chantele was the mastermind behind Charlotte Grace’s acclaimed twenty-book-series, ‘The Reality of a Forbidden Life,’ now a television series the world was fascinated by. Chantele secretly smiled when the mothers at her children's school discussed their excitement over the next episode.