It was a little less of a friendly reception than she’d hoped for, but she’d work with it. “Why, darling, I thought that would be obvious,” she murmured. “I’ve come to take you back, of course.”
Prince stared at her silently. Angelique licked her lips and stroked his cheek. When his hand snapped up, and his fingers closed firmly – too firmly – around her wrist, she sucked in a sharp breath. This was what she loved…this force, this strength. She pressed toward him, eager to brush her lips against that chiseled mouth. She knew how to soften him up. Knew what—
“Get out,” he whispered so softly she almost didn’t hear him.
“What?” she frowned.
“I said, get out!” he said more firmly. Behind her, Andy had moved closer. Angelique looked over her shoulder in confusion.
“But, Prince!” she began. This made no sense. She was coming back for him. “When I heard you didn’t go through with the wedding, I knew that could only mean one thing…”
He was staring at her. “What?” His brow had furrowed. “What did you think it meant?” She reached up to smooth his frown, but he swatted her hand away. He really wasn’t making this easy. Poor baby. She’d obviously hurt his feelings tremendously. No doubt there’d be penance to pay, but that was fine. She’d pay it – it would be worth the price.
“That you’d realized you were making a mistake, darling. The tabloids said that you got cold feet, and you called it off. But we all know what that’s about, don’t we? You were hasty…it was really just a gesture to get back at me, if you’re honest with yourself,” she replied archly. “And of course, it could never work out. Anyone could see that she didn’t fit in. She’s not one of us, darling.” She gave a catlike smile. The stupid girl had been totally out of her element. It had only been a matter of time before Prince saw it.
He was shaking his head now. “When did it happen?” he finally asked.
Angelique raised an eyebrow. “When did what happen, darling?”
“When did you become so much like your mother? Or was it there all along, and I just didn’t see it?” he muttered.
“There’s a resemblance, I’ve been told,” Angelique acknowledged. “I have her eyes.” She fluttered her lashes and ran a hand over her hair.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he said. “You have her black heart.”
Angelique blinked in surprise. “What?” She shook her head. “That’s not very nice, Prince. My mother may be a little ambitious about her social status, but I’d hardly say that’s a character flaw.”
“It is when that’s all you can see,” he retorted. “There’s nothing she does that’s about anything other than getting ahead in life. Including using you. I thought that’s what it was at first – that you were different. But you’re not. You’re exactly the same.”
“Oh, please!” Angelique rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic! We all play the game, to a degree. Even you.”
“I may have once…but I learned that things could be different when I met Sasha. I learned that people could be good.”
“Sasha!” Angelique scoffed at the woman’s name. “Sasha is a whore! You could hardly put us in the same class!”
Something ticked in Prince’s jaw, and she realized she’d pushed things too far. Though who could blame her? The little bitch had stepped into her life and tried to take what was rightfully hers. What she’d worked for for years, dammit.
“Class?” Prince said quietly. “You’re fucking right! You don’t know what class is, you gold-digging bitch!” Angelique worked to keep her mouth from dropping open. “Sasha has more class in her little finger than you would know what to do with.”
“How dare you!” she hissed, finally realizing that this conversation was never going to turn in her favor. “You think people weren’t laughing while you were parading that slut around?” A movement behind her made her aware that Andy had stepped closer. Prince was recoiling, but she continued. “She’s nothing like us. Nothing! You could dress her in designer labels and shower her with shiny baubles, but she’s still just a whore!”
“The only whore here is you, Angelique,” he bit out. “Your mother pimped you out for years, hoping to find a family that would embrace you. Anyone with any breeding could see it. I was simply too stupid. Or maybe I hoped you were better.” He huffed, then ran a hand through his hair. The more she looked at him, the more she could see something was wrong – something she couldn’t fix or turn in her favor. These were details that Angelique didn’t relish. “It doesn’t matter now,” he added. “I’ve found the woman of my dreams. And she’s not you.”
Bitter disappointment was swirling. “But I could be,” she said. “Don’t you see that? If this wedding was supposed to go ahead, it would have. We were meant to be together. The Walkers and the Delavignes…we could rule Manhattan together…” It was a desperate final attempt, but she wasn’t going without a fight. A fight she could sense she was losing. He was staring at her. Not in a way that men usually stared at Angelique Delavigne, but she could still try to work with that. Attention was something she’d learned to manipulate since she was a child.
She flicked her hair and pushed out her chest. Beneath the expensive white wool of her Armani jacket lay little more than a La Perla bustier and her own sweet curves. She angled herself so that he’d get a glimpse of the swell of her breasts. But he was narrowing his eyes, not even glancing down as he continued his cool assessment of her features.
“People are not pawns to be bargained with,” he said softly. “You can’t put a price on someone’s head, and demand people pay it.” He was looking beyond her now, and somehow Angelique got the impression he wasn’t talking about her. There was a vulnerability in his expression that drew her. Vulnerability was something she wasn’t used to seeing in this man. She leaned forward and slid her fingers behind his neck, leaning in to brush her lips against his.
“You’re so sad, darling,” she whispered. “Let me make you happy again. I know how to do it.”
Prince shook his head as if waking up from a dream. “You never did, Angelique. We were never happy. We were never right for each other, and we never will be. I don’t want to see you again.” Angelique swallowed hard. There was no way her mother would accept this outcome. No way she could tolerate it herself, either.
“You don’t decide that,” she hissed. “I make those decisions. Don’t you see that?” The damn fool didn’t know what was good for him. He stared at her silently for a second, then peeled her fingers away from his neck and pulled back. Angelique felt a wave of rage so hot she wanted to rake her nails across his face. But something in his expression told her that would be pushing things too far. Something had changed in him, and it was a change she didn’t know how to control.
“Get her out of here!” Prince said to his friend, shoving her away so abruptly she almost slid off the desk. Andy put a hand beneath her elbow, and Angelique felt herself being steered toward the door. The man’s grasp wasn’t painful, but there was a firmness in his grip that told her it would be pointless to resist him. She opened her mouth to say something, but Prince stopped her with a glance as cold as steel. “Don’t come back, Angelique. You don’t belong in my life.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, she knew she’d lost him completely.
