“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.
“Sasha’s made a break into the modeling world. She’s doing very well,” I said, turning to my mother.
“Really? That’s exciting,” she said. “Although I’m hardly surprised. You’re a true beauty, dear,” she said to Sasha, whose cheeks flushed.
“Thank you,” she murmured, setting her knife and fork aside and leaning back as Alfonse cleared her plate. “I couldn’t have done it without Alec.” She smiled at me. “He’s been so supportive.”
“I can imagine,” my father said drily. “Though I can’t say I blame him. You’re certainly a looker.” I could see her shift uncomfortably.
“She has great style too,” I broke in. “She picked out this shirt for me.” I held up my arm, still ridiculously pleased at the gift. It didn’t matter what it was. She could have come home with a pet rock. Nobody had ever surprised me with things. That had always been my role. I did the buying. I did the spoiling. It was something I’d simply assumed was normal in relationships.
“I noticed that,” he said, his eyes moving over me coldly. “Hardly surprising that you look like a pimp then.”
“Nonsense, Drew!” my mother disagreed. “I think it’s perfect for you, Alec. You’re always so formal. I’m glad to see you relaxing a little. Sasha must be good for you.” Sasha’s cheeks were now flaming red.
“Never been happier, Mom,” I said, surprised at how true the words were.
“Relaxed? Jesus, woman. Don’t give the boy incentive to fuck around any more than he already does,” my father said sharply. Alfonse had reappeared with another course of food. Sasha was pinching her lips together, her eyes on a beautifully presented plate of scallops and greens.
“Drew, really…” my mother began, but my father had clearly lost patience.
“Reallywhat, Eleanor?” he laid into her. “He arrives here dressed like Daddy-fucking-Cool, in a car I probably bought for him, spouting about his upcoming wedding to a girl who’s clearly a whore. And you’re saying he needs to relax more? He’s spent enough time relaxing with every tramp he can afford. It’s hardly surprising that he’d have to pay for one to settle down with.”
I set my cutlery down sharply, prepared to do battle. I may have spent my entire life sucking up his constant insults, but Sasha had done absolutely nothing to deserve this.
Before I could open my mouth, however, she’d shoved her chair back and was standing, her face red…but with fury now.
