“Did I need to, Dad?” I asked, matching his expression.
“Well, any kind of information would have been welcome, Prince,” he answered. He’d taken another sip of the martini and I knew the glass would soon be empty. “The first we knew of her was when we saw it all over the tabloids. Announcing your engagement, no less.”
“Well, then I saved you the trouble of putting out press announcements,” I said smoothly. My mother had risen and was topping up her wine, along with Sasha’s, as she paused before us. I saw them exchange a small look. Sasha’s fingers were wrapped around the stem of her glass with enough pressure to snap it.
“But a call girl…just a fancy word for a whor—”
“Sasha was an escort, Dad,” I interrupted him. “She made some tough choices, but it was an honest job, and she never did anything to compromise her morals.”
“That’s what she told you,” he said, taking another sip of martini. “Besides, she might have the morals of an alley cat for all you know.”
“Drew!” Mom’s voice was sharp, bordering on dangerous.
“I believe her,” I said smoothly. He was trying to ruffle my feathers, but I wasn’t letting him get to me. I was more worried about how Sasha was coping under his attack. And there was no doubt about it. It was an attack.
For a second, we stared each other down, until my mother’s voice broke in. “Sasha, you must be famished, darling. Shall we make our way to the dining room?” I felt her sink down in relief.
“That’s a great idea, Mom,” I aimed an icy stare at my father, then stood, took Sasha’s hand, and led her out. She pressed close to me, and I could feel her wavering as we walked. I tilted my head toward her. “You’re doing great,” I murmured below my breath.
Behind us, my father was muttering, but I could hear my mother getting him in line. By the time we reached the dining room, he was all smiles and charm again. Until he took over the seating arrangements and settled Sasha directly at his side.
My mother sat beside me, giving my shoulder a pat as she took her seat. “I’m so happy you’re here, darling.” She dimpled up at me. “We really don’t spend enough time together.” She was right. I loved her company, but it came at such a high fucking cost.
“See,” my father joined in. “I told you that you were breaking her heart. I have to hear this every day.” He was raising his empty martini glass at Inocencia, who’d entered the room with a dark-haired man in tow. Alfonse was my mother’s chef and between the pair, and the groundsman, they kept the household running smoothly while she managed charity functions. It was the life my father had probably aspired to from the outset – beautiful socialite wife, gorgeous home, large staff – yet he seemed to despise her for it.
“I promise we’ll be around more, Mom,” I said, pressing against her. My father had shifted his chair closer to Sasha, who kept aiming glances my way.
“So what about this wedding of yours, Prince?” My father latched onto the topic now.
“We still have to discuss the details, Dad,” I answered. “Everything is still brand-new.” Alfonse had done a tour of the table, setting plates of salmon in front of each of us.
“We’ll take the Pinot Noir with that, Alphonse,” my mother was saying, though I sensed her grow alert at the mention of the wedding.
“Oh, Sasha, I do hope you’ll let me help you with the arrangements, darling?” she broke in. “Unless your mother is handling them, of course. But I’m happy to take on any task you’ll send my way.” I could sense her excitement, and it warmed me. But guilt whirled, too. There was no way I’d ever be able to tell her that the details of this marriage had been outlined in a contract. A million-dollar marriage. I glanced at Sasha, certain she was thinking the same thing.
She nodded shyly. “Thank you, Eleanor, that would be lovely. I haven’t discussed it with my mom yet, but I’m sure she’d be glad for the guidance. She hasn’t lived in New York for years now.”
“Will she be staying with you before the wedding?” my mother asked. It was a detail that had never occurred to either of us. Sasha gave me a quick look.
“There’s still plenty of time before we reach that point, Mom,” I said firmly. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
“Not that much time, Prince,” my father said sourly. “We have an arrangement, if you recall.” His second martini had arrived, and he’d set it beside his wineglass.
“What arrangement is that?” My mother frowned.
“Oh, I’m sure Prince will tell you when he’s ready,” my father answered. Mom turned her attention to me, and I shrugged. His threats were growing less troubling to me. Especially knowing that our Swiss contract was a hair’s breadth away from being signed off. Sharing that little bit of information with him was going to be so fucking sweet.
“That’s quite a rock you got there, Sasha,” he went on, reaching for her hand and examining it without bothering to ask if she minded. “Must have set you back a pretty penny, kid.” He looked up at me from where he was still grasping her fingers tightly between his own. She yanked free of his grasp, and he smirked. “Where’d you get the cash?”
“I have resources,” I said, taking a mouthful of salmon.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he replied.
“Then maybe you’re not aware of everything,” I said back, almost itching to rub his nose in the fact that he wouldn’t have this hold over me much longer. I had to bide my time.
Sasha had turned her attention to her salmon, and I saw she’d twisted the ostentatious ring to hide the diamond from sight.My father had that effect on people. Taking lovely things and making them ugly.
The silence hung heavily over us as we ate, and I suspected my father was mulling over my words. I had no doubt that his next sentence was going to be another well-aimed blow. I took hold of the conversation before he could get a chance.
