“Yes, and thank God for that.”
I bite my lip, not really following the conversation. Peery Diamonds is incorporated in Nesovia, I know that much, but I never spent much time there. I was born in L.A. during one of Mom’s vacations in SoCal, and mostly raised there.
“But things would be better if she’d never been born. Then Wilhelm wouldn’t have anybody to leave his money to other than Karl and Vonnie.”
I take an unsteady step back as a combination of shock and pain reverberates through me. I’ve always known that Dad likes Karl and Vonnie more. He was always nicer to them, more indulgent. He said I was too willful and toxic. Too tall, too wild, too…everything. Just too much.
But to learn that he wishes I’dnever been born? It’s like I’m not even his child.
“Heard enough?” Vonnie’s whisper into my ear might as well be a crow cawing in victory.
I turn my head slowly to stare at her. I didn’t realize she followed me upstairs. Her dark eyes flash with glee. Tossing her long chocolate-colored hair, she gives me a smile.
“Nobody wants you here, Lucienne,” Vonnie says. “Why do you think not even Olivia wants to bother with you these days?”
The barb hits home. The recital wasn’t the only thing Mom couldn’t bother with. There’s been a string of disappointments, all because Dad, Karl or Vonnie needed her. Mom doesn’t seem to care that I’m her child and need her, too.
“Things would be so much better without you.” Vonnie smirks, running her finger along the pearl necklace still around her neck.
I want to launch myself at her and rip her face off. But I know from experience that if I do, I’ll be blamed and punished. And there’s no point in calling for Mom. She isn’t somebody I can count on.
But I can’t stay in the suite with these…assholes, either. I storm out, slamming the door behind me. If Mom hears me, she doesn’t come out. Probably has more important things to do. Like… I don’t know. Literally anything in the world.
I take the elevator to the lobby. Nobody stops me—it’s like they know I should be on my way out, since I’m not wanted here.
Tears spring to my eyes as my sneakered feet slap the wintry streets of Paris, but I blink them away. The wind slips cold fingers into my sweater and runs them along my skin, leaving goosebumps. Snow falls soundlessly, muffling the sounds of the city. Lights are everywhere, turning the crystal flakes red and green in the Christmas festivities. Somewhere a group of kids is singing carols.
Those kids all belong somewhere.They’re allwantedsomewhere.
I don’t fit. The realization slides into me like a rusty nail. Mom had me because that’s what Grandfather wanted. He needed an heir he could leave Peery Diamonds to because he thinks Mom is too flighty and weak-willed to run a big corporation. He’s disappointed I’m a girl—I can see it in his gaze every time he looks at me, because girls are soft and sentimental and unfit to take on the family legacy, the all-important company. Dad and his other kids—the ones he treats like his own—only tolerate me.
I wish Bianca were here, but she’s spending Christmas with her family in the States. My best friend’s family loves her, unlike mine. They hug her, ask about the details of her life and feed her like she’s been through a famine.
I’d do anything to trade places, but… I shake myself mentally. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to make my bestie to go through what I’m going through.
I walk aimlessly along the streets, shoulders raised high. I wish I’d grabbed a coat before leaving the hotel, but I’d rather jump off a bridge than go back for one now.
Is there anyone who gives a damn about me? If I freeze to death tonight…will anyone care?
I picture Mom’s face crumbling with shock and sorrow, but then I shake off the imagery. It’s pointless, wishful thinking on my part. She’ll just get distracted as usual because Karl or Vonnie needs her. She doesn’t care that they’re only nice to her because she’s an heiress. If she hears them calling her a sucker behind her back, she doesn’t show it.
Time passes. I stop when I can’t feel my face anymore. I look around. The streetlamps are blurred like starbursts and my breath turns white in the air.
A guy says something in French near me, but I don’t even turn to look. He’s probably out here in this beautiful city with somebody who likes him. Bet he has a welcoming home to go to. A family that adores him.
Okay, no more self-pity.If people could read my mind, they’d call me entitled and spoiled. I should be grateful for what I have—the wealth of Peery Diamonds, what it represents. I have nice, expensive things most people can’t even dream of owning.
A light tap on my shoulder. “Est-ce que tu vas bien?”
I turn around and see a tall, dark-haired man standing behind me. He’s gorgeous—slightly slanted dark eyebrows over brilliant eyes, a straight nose and surprisingly full mouth that looks like it should be reciting some romantic French poem.Maybe he’s a model,I think, taking in his presence, his black cashmere coat. He most definitely has somewhere to go, people who are waiting for him.
Suddenly, I feel shabby and small. And I don’t want his pity or sympathy. I want to cling to what little pride I have left, since I don’t have anything else.
“I don’t speak French,” I lie. I try to say it in my most unfriendly, leave-me-alone tone, but I can’t hide the shakiness or the chattering of my teeth now that I’ve opened my mouth. I clench my jaw shut.
“Are you American?” he says in perfect English, his voice a low baritone that reminds me of caramel.
“Yeah. So?”
