“So that’s it? No apology? No explanation?” My voice rises despite my efforts to stay calm. “You just let me believe I might be fucking related to the man I’m sleeping with?”
Mariella’s lips curl into something that might be a smile if it weren’t so cold. “You always did have such a flair for the dramatic. And I believe the technical term for what you kids call it is ‘fucking,’ not ‘sleeping with.’”
I want to slap her. The urge is so strong my palm actually tingles with anticipation. “Answer the fucking question.”
She sighs, setting her cup down with deliberate care. “What would you like me to say, Seraphina? That I’m sorry?” She laughs, the sound like broken glass. “The truth is boring, darling. The truth doesn’t get you anywhere in this world.”
“So you admit it. You lied. To me, to Vincent. You let him and by extension me and Lucien believe I was his daughter when you knew I wasn’t.”
“Of course I lied.” She stands now, smoothing her silk blouse with manicured hands. “That’s how the game is played. I needed Vincent’s attention, his favor. A child—his child—was the perfect leverage.”
“But I wasn’t his child,” I say through gritted teeth. “I was never his child.”
“No, but he believed you were.” Her smile turns predatory. “And that’s all that mattered.”
I stare at her, this woman who gave birth to me, who raised me, who shaped me into who I am. And I realize with sudden clarity that I don’t know her at all.
“You used me,” I say, the words tasting bitter. “You used your own daughter as a pawn in your sick little power game. You were very convincing; they should give you an award for your acting. The tears and terror in your voice when Lucien chose me really should be commended.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she scoffs. “I gave you everything. The best schools, the finest clothes, connections to the most powerful families. You were raised in privilege because of my choices.”
“At what cost?” I step closer, invading her space. “What was the price of all that ‘privilege,’ Mother? My identity? My sense of self? The ability to trust anyone?”
Mariella waves her hand dismissively. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve turned out perfectly fine. Better than fine—you’ve caught the attention of Lucien Devereux himself. The most powerful young man in Black Crown. I’d say my methods were quite successful.”
“So that’s all I am to you? A success story? A means to an end?” My voice cracks despite my best efforts. “Did you ever love me? Or was I just another piece in your fucking chess game?”
For a moment—just a moment—I think I see something flicker in her eyes. Something almost like regret. But it’s gone before I can be sure.
“Love,” she says the word like it’s a foreign concept, “is a luxury people like us can’t afford. Love makes you weak. Vulnerable. I taught you better than that, Seraphina.”
“Taught me?” I laugh, the sound harsh and broken. “You didn’t teach me shit. You manipulated me. Lied to me. Used me.”
“And yet here you stand,” she says, gesturing to me with a sweep of her hand. “Strong. Capable. Powerful in your own right. Would you be who you are today without my guidance?”
“I’m who I am despite you, not because of you,” I spit back. “And I’m nothing like you.”
“Are you sure about that?” Her smile turns knowing. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re following in my footsteps quite nicely. Using your body, your charm, and your intelligence to climb the social ladder. Tell me, how does Lucien’s cock taste when you’re on your knees, begging for his favor?”
The vulgarity from her perfect mouth shocks me, but I refuse to let her see it. Instead, I step closer until we’re nose to nose.
“The difference between us,” I say, my voice deadly calm, “is that I don’t have to lie to get what I want. I don’t have to manipulate and scheme. People give me what I want because they want to give it to me. Not because I’ve tricked them into it.”
Mariella’s smile doesn’t waver. “Such idealism. It won’t last.”
“And your thirst for power won’t protect you forever,” I counter. “One day it’s going to burn you alive.”
She actually laughs at that, the sound rich and genuine in a way that makes my skin crawl. “My dear, I’ve been playing this game for decades. If my ‘thirst for power’ was going to kill me, it would have happened by now.” She pats my cheek with patronizing gentleness. “I think I’m perfectly fine.”
I grab her wrist, squeezing just hard enough to make her eyes widen slightly. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” I whisper, leaning in close. “Because the difference between us, Mother, is that I’m not playing by your rules anymore. And I’m not the only one who knows your secrets now.”
For the first time since I walked in, I see genuine alarm flash across her face. “What do you mean?”
I release her wrist and step back, straightening my shoulders. “Lucien knows everything. About your affair with Vincent. About the lies. About how you manipulated everyone.” I let mylips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “And he’s not exactly known for his forgiveness, is he?”
Mariella’s composure finally cracks. “You told him? You stupid girl?—”
“I didn’t have to tell him anything,” I cut her off. “He figured it out on his own.”
