I shrugged. “Suit yourself,” I said, feeling myself grow colder. Fine. Pack your fucking things while you’re at it. I kept my thoughts to myself. I was upset, but I didn’t mean that.
“Alec, I…” Her words trailed off. What was there to say, anyway? She’d already done enough.
“What, Sasha?” I snapped. She shook her head.
“Nothing. I was just…” She stopped again. “Well, I’ll see you later at the show?”
“I have work to do,” I muttered, ignoring the question and turning my back on her. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t bother me in my office anymore. We already discussed this when you arrived. My space is off-limits.” I heard her suck in a breath, but I didn’t care. Probably another of her little acts to draw on my sympathies. I’d spent my life being a money pit for women just like her. Losing my heart to one of them was the worst mistake of my life.
Chapter 6
Sasha Ramirez
“Cheer up, sweetie, you look like you just lost your puppy,” Francois said chirpily. The make-up artist wore almost as much of his product as he was applying to my face. I gave a wan smile. “Sorry, Francois,” I sighed. “Just a little tired.”
He gave a lewd grin. “I’m not surprised, sweetie. I’d also be tired if I was getting my hands on that beautiful hunk of man-flesh you’ve managed to latch your claws into.”
I pinched my lips together. Thankfully, he was working on my eyes and didn’t notice. He was still chattering away obliviously. Prince had barely looked at me since we spoke the night before. When he’d asked for the ring, I’d immediately assumed he wanted his grandmother’s ring back. That the engagement was off. Then he’d explained that he was going to find a buyer for the pink diamond he’d given me at the restaurant. I’d been dizzy with relief. But it was short-lived. The guilt was eating at me.
After I’d handed him the glittering gem, he’d been on the phone for the next couple of hours. I sat listening for a while, but he’d waved me away. I brought him a coffee halfway, but it went cold on the table beside him. He was drinking whisky instead. By the time I finally went to bed, he’d finished half the bottle. When I’d said that I’d sleep in my room that night, he seemed relieved to see the back of me.
“Sorry, sweetie, is this mascara a little heavy for you?” Francois was saying. He was dabbing carefully along my eyeline where a tear had trickled over.
Shit. Pull yourself together, girl.
“I bet he fucks you senseless every night,” he was still going on, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, “What’s his cock like, sweetie? I’ve heard he’s hung like a horse! So, what are we talking about here – eight inches? Nine? Please say it’s nine! More?”
I tried not to choke. “Francois!” I choked out. “Oh, my God! I couldn’t—” This man is just too much!
“Oh, I know, sweetie, I couldn’t either…but I’d do my very best to fit that sucker in, you know what I mean?” He was giggling like a teenage girl.
“Fit what in, Francois?” an accented voice broke in. I slanted my eyes sideways without moving my face. My make-up artist might be an insatiable gossip, but he took his job very seriously. A woman was standing beside my chair, her silvered hair swept up from a face that was spectacularly beautiful. She was running a cold glance over me, and it made my flesh crawl a little.
“Ah, Sophia!” Francois chirped, stepping closer to her and brushing air kisses past her cheeks. “Sasha and I were just having a little girltalk about her fabulous man.” He winked at me in the mirror. “Seems that the rumors are true. That cock of his is legendary.” He gave another high-pitched laugh. “She could barely fit it in!”
“Francois!” I gasped. “I never—” Dammit, I hadn’t said anything of the sort.
“Is that so?” Sophia raised an eyebrow. I felt more uncomfortable than ever. “Well, I imagine there are some things a woman must do in order to pay the bills, n’est-ce pas?”
What was she implying? And who the hell was she? For some reason, she seemed to dislike me, even though I had no idea who she was.
Francois laughed again, returning to brandish a brush over my face.
“I could think of worse ways to earn a living, darling,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the woman, who had folded her arms over her chest. “If there’s anything bigger than his cock, it’s his bank account, right?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. She still hadn’t addressed me directly.
“Oh, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you, Francois?” She looked at me. “Sadly, you seem to have backed the wrong horse, my dear,” she finally acknowledged me. “Prince Walker is worth nothing without that little allowance he gets from his father.” She scoffed.
I remained silent. It had become clear to me early on that this was a circle of people who seldom had nice things to say about each other. Francois was forming a dramatic cupid’s bow on my lips and filling it in with a silvery gloss. He kept his eyes focused on me as he responded to her.
“Ah, then you’ve missed the latest news, darling. It seems the Prince of New York has regained his throne.”
Her perfect brows might have furrowed if it wasn’t for the fact that her forehead appeared frozen into immobility. But her eyes narrowed as she said, “Really? And what do you mean by that?”
“The news has been buzzing everywhere, Sophia! I’m surprised you missed it!” Francois said. “Prince Walker’s just signed a deal with a Swiss multinational. They’re talking billions! It’s all speculation at this point, but I’m certain it’s only a matter of time.”
Sophia’s breath hissed out. “How lovely for him.” It didn’t sound like she thought such a thing at all. I kept my mouth shut, grateful she wasn’t looking at me to confirm it.
