Using Grace Chapel fits perfectly. It provides that "East Coast Estate" or "Traditional Manor" vibe while keeping the atmosphere sacred and quiet.
Here is the updated version of your text with the name change and a few minor adjustments to ensure the "Chapel" setting feels cohesive with the rest of the prose.
Prayers and Predators
Amanda walked side by side with Quentin along the long, rocky hallway, several burning incense sticks clutched in their hands.
"Dad looks so pale today," Amanda noted, her voice tinged with sadness. Quentin smiled and rested his arm on her shoulder, giving her a gentle, reassuring pat.
"At his age, health can be unstable. If you're worried, we can make an effort to visit him more often."
Amanda lowered her eyes, a small frown marring her features. "Does health really deteriorate that quickly? Last time I visited, Dad was still so energetic." She remembered her younger years, filled with laughter and joking with the elder Mr. Harris.
Quentin considered this for a moment. "I'll send Butler Wayne back to the main house. Having someone close and familiar to keep him company will surely put his mind at ease."
The recent family turmoil had clearly weighed heavily on the patriarch. Having Housekeeper Wayne there to share the burden would likely alleviate some of his silent worries. Amanda sighed in relief and nodded; the plan felt right.
They reached Grace Chapel and entered together, kneeling in silent prayer. After Amanda finished, she stood and placed her incense in the bronze urn. She turned to leave but noticed Quentin was still kneeling, his head bowed in deep devotion. Not wanting to disturb him, she stepped outside and waited by the chapel doors.
It was a long time before Quentin finally emerged. Amanda approached him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "What on earth were you praying for that kept you on your knees for so long?"
Quentin put on his shoes and stood up, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "I was praying for a daughter."
Amanda froze, momentarily stunned, before awkwardly pushing his hand away. "Quentin! Why the sudden interest in children?"
Quentin smiled softly, catching her hand as they began to walk. "Mandy, I'm not exactly a young man anymore, while you're only in your twenties. If we don't have a daughter soon to take care of me, I'm afraid that as the years go by, you'll start to criticize me for being old."
Amanda felt a mix of sadness and amusement. She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I'm not going to criticize you for being old. Besides, I'm still young and I haven't 'played' enough yet! How can I have a baby already?"
Quentin didn't seem deterred. "It's okay. Let's try for a child first; you can leave all the responsibility of raising them to me."
Amanda pouted, pretending to be annoyed as she let go of his hand. "No! I haven't even won an acting award yet, and you already want me to trade my scripts for a birth certificate?"
Seeing her genuine upset, Quentin let out a soft, defeated sigh and pulled her back into a side-hug. "Fine. Once you receive your award, can we talk about babies then?"
Amanda brought his hand to her mouth and nibbled on it. She controlled the force, so the bite only made Quentin feel a pleasant, ticklish sensation.
"Do you like nibbling on my hand that much?" he asked, amused.
Amanda tilted her chin up. "If you don't like it, I'll stop."
Quentin burst out laughing and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Just then, his phone rang. It was Secretary James. Amanda, standing close enough to see the screen, waved him off.
"Go answer it. I want to rest quietly for a bit."
"I'll only be a moment. Sit there and wait for me," Quentin promised with a smile before heading off to find a private spot.
As she watched Quentin's back retreat, the happy smile on Amanda's lips gradually faded. She turned to look blankly at the distant chapel. People often said that children were a matter of fate—or a debt from a past life. Was the child she lost in her previous life simply not fated for her?
It wasn't that she didn't want Quentin's child, but a deep-seated fear still gripped her heart—the fear that anything she truly loved would be snatched away again. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Feeling exhausted, she walked to a nearby stone bench and sat down.
"The relationship between you two is quite good, isn't it? You're even discussing children?"
Javier appeared from behind a flower bed, a smirk playing on his lips. Meeting her "traitor" while she was feeling so vulnerable made Amanda's eyes turn cold instantly.
"So, you have a hobby of eavesdropping now?" she sneered.
"Not at all. I was just burning incense and happened to overhear," Javier replied, walking closer. He stared at her blatantly, his gaze raking over her. "And I have to say, you have excellent taste in clothes. You're getting more beautiful by the day."
Being appraised like an object didn't make Amanda explode; instead, she fixed him with a stare so sharp it felt like a physical blade. "Was the beating you got last time too light? Do I need to ask your uncle to teach you another lesson, Nephew?"
Javier's smile stiffened. He let out a harsh breath through his teeth. "Amanda... aren't you tired of pretending to be stupid for this long?"
If she were truly as dim-witted as she used to pretend, he wouldn't be standing here being toyed with. He realized now that a man as calculated as Quentin wouldn't pamper a woman who was just a stubborn brat. Javier finally saw the truth: Amanda had been "playing the pig to eat the tiger" all along.
Amanda let out a sudden, cold laugh. "I had to. If you can stab my Solis family in the back without making a sound, how could I afford to be anything less?"
In her past life, Javier had used Elena to plant a spy in her family. Now that she was with Quentin, Elena had lost her leverage over her brother, Diego. Amanda saw right through him.
Javier was stunned for a moment, then burst into a mocking laugh. "It seems I underestimated you. You're certainly smarter than Elena. Too bad it's a bit too late! What a pity."
Amanda curled her lip into a faint smile, looking him straight in the eye. "Is that so? I hope you can still laugh when the end comes. Don't disappoint me."
A flash of genuine, murderous blood lust flickered in her eyes, causing Javier to recoil instinctively. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Amanda didn't waste another second on him; she stood up and walked away to find Quentin.
Watching her slender back disappear, Javier muttered to himself, "Amanda... do you actually intend to kill me?" That split second of raw, crazy blood lust had chilled him to the bone.