by Seyna Rytes
Magnus throws me one last glance, declaring in a tone meant to convey reassurance: “nothing’s changed. I’ll be back. You remember everything we said. All we’ve shared.”
Why do his words sound like none of that matters? Like on the contrary, everything has changed…
* * *
As soon as they leave the cabin, I dress up in a daze. Thankfully, Magnus had the decency to instruct the steward to drop me off and return his rental. When I make it to my apartment, I slump on the couch and just stare into nothing for a long while. What happened? How do you go from feeling so close to a person, to not even knowing where they are, and why they left you in the middle of the night? My heart squeezes painfully, and I fight with all my might to hold on to our connection, to his words, his touch, the scent of him, his magnificent body…
Chapter Five
MAGNUS
“Pay her off,” I grit out.
Our Counsellor shakes his head, eyes full of sympathy.
“We can’t, Your Majesty. She doesn’t want money. Doesn’t need it.”
He’s a good man, a family man. Full of integrity. Reliable. The type of man my father, uncle, and grandfather are too. Not irresponsible playboys like Alex and I, who end up finding themselves in stupid binds.
We’re all gathered in my office at the palace. My cousin and me, tense and pissed way the fuck off! Our dads and grandpa, looking a bit too serene in the face of our current predicament.
“Would people even listen to her? Would they believe her?”
“It’s hard to say, Your Majesty. Princess Isabella has a sweetheart image.”
Alex scoffs, irritably running his hand through his hair, and grumbling to himself. I’m right there with you, brother. Just when I thought things were setting up for the best…
“So, what you’re telling me is the world will believe we forced ourselves on her?”
“The world might not believe it, Your Majesty, but some of our more traditional business partners won’t hesitate to cut ties with us.”
I stand and start pacing the room, hands crossed behind my back. Montescu is known for its beaches, casinos, and luxurious resorts. But, we’re also the Medditerenean equivalent to Switzerland when it comes to tax and question free banks. That part of our family and kingdom’s business has always been run with seriousness and reliability. We can’t afford for the two main faces and executives of our financial empire to stain our reputation with grotesque private affairs!
Princess Isabella of Romania drove us out of our own country a while ago with her threats of making our affair public. And now she’s back at it, except this time she claims we forced ourselves on her! This wouldn’t be an indecency scandal, but the public shaming of two spoiled men, using a meek woman against her will. If Bella goes on with her threat, this could mean the end of Montescu as we know it. There’s no way reputable companies will continue to invest in our country and do business with us, if we The King and The Prince of Montescu are exposed as rapists.
My grandfather, who hasn’t said a word to us since we landed, crosses his fingers under his chin. He stares us down with his heavily browed eye. Still regal and handsome, despite his white hair and weathered face. We all take from him: tall, built, hard-headed motherfuckers.
“Sit.” He finally says.
Alex and I know better than to irritate him any further at this point.
“I’ve had it with you too. I’ve been defending you since you were little, but this…”
He stops for a beat, his cerulean eyes piercing us.
“This is below you, my boys. Is this what you’ve learnt in those English and American schools?”
We hang our heads low, feeling like fucking kids.
“Magnus, do you know what it means to be a king? Do you realize everything both myself and your father have sacrificed so that your title would still be meaningful?”
I hold his gaze, feeling myself shrink to nothing. Ashamed, embarrassed, made at myself.
“And you Alessandro, prince of two different royal families. You’re supposed to be your brother’s keeper, his consciousness. Not his enabler.”
He shakes his head, points a rigid finger at us and utters slowly: “this stops here. You two are done indulging in decadence. Get your shit together, like the men we’ve raised you to be!”
Alex and I look at each other in shock: our grandfather never curses. My dad and uncle exchange the kind of barely there looks and grins that only someone like Alex or I can catch, because we have the same type of brotherly connection.
Granddad turns to the Royal Counsel.
“Dig up everything you can find on this girl and her kin. And bury her with it. I don’t ever want to hear her name or anything coming from her.”
The first king of Montescu’s modern era has spoken.
* * *
INA
‘Extras, extras’
The TV blares out the jingle of the celebrity gossip show, and I don’t automatically change the channel... This is so unlike me! I normally have no interest in this type of entertainment, but that was before… Before I fell for someone who lives in the public eye. Before we started dreaming of what could be. And more than anything, before he left me in the middle of the night without an explanation. Never to be seen or heard again. Poof, he disappeared like the mind-blowing illusion he was.
I scoff with derision. My own king, yeah right. From the way he pursued me, made me his, held me, caressed my body, listened to me, kissed me… how I miss Mag's kisses.
I've been an absolute wreck for the past week. Coming to work on Monday with the eerie feeling I'd never lay eyes on Magnus again. And seeing the same dark thoughts reflected in Vanessa's tired gaze. We looked at each other and shared a silent understanding: the fairy tale was over. Time to buckle up and fight our way back into real life.
The final nail in the coffin was hammered by Nessa herself. After almost an entire workweek of wallowing into our despair, yesterday she returned from lunch with a trashy magazine under her arm. Vanessa stomped into my office and threw the paper on my desk. The photo was grainy, not the best paparazzo shot, but it's undeniable who it shows. My beautiful, blond giant. Dressed in the linen ensemble he was wearing when he left me. His hair unkempt, the vacation beard still covering his strong jaw. My hungry eyes feasted on the vision, before catching on to the accessory adorning Magnus's arm… a petite, slender, exquisitely gorgeous woman holding his forearm.
"W… what's this?"
Yeah, sue me: I was still holding on to hope. Despite his unexplained precipitated departure, and days left in the dark. Complete idiot!
Vanessa jabs a furious finger at the picture caption: 'Is The Magnum King back together with Princess Bella?!'
When I look up, I know my eyes have welled up. And Vanessa's look morphs into concern.
"I'm gonna kill them…" she grits out.
I swallow back my tears.
“No, Vanessa. I knew the kind of man he is. I let myself get carried away. This might be nothing or just Magnus getting back to his norm…”
She shakes her own head in disgust and stomps out.
* * *
And now, I’m about to subject myself to another torture. But, there’s no way I can resist the opportunity of seeing Mag’ on screen! Today’s show is supposed to include a big reveal… shocker. Images of celebrity couples roll on the screen. The journalists commenting on each one’s news: from pregnancy gender reveals, to catty fights… I am sitting on hot coals, waiting agitatedly, trying to convince myself I just want to see him, maybe hear his voice. Lies! I know I’m looking for confirmation of my worst fears: that Magnus used me as a vacation fling, promised me things he didn’t even believe in, and forgot about plain ol’ Ina from the moment his plane landed back home. Back to his life of luxury and glamour. Back to his people.
And there he is: looking dashing in a black tux, face smoothly shaven, hair expertly styled back. So big and broad, his presence fills the flat screen. B
ut even on a red carpet, in this couture tailored suit, with flashes blinking all around him, I can see the tenseness in his jaw, the dimmed light in his beautiful blue eyes… My hands itch to run over the sides of his face, my lips tingle from all the kisses I want to cover him with. Fuck, get yourself together, Ina! This is it: one last glance for the road. I let myself dream and believe there was something real between Magnus and I. I was wrong: this man is just another one-percenter who uses ordinary people like pawns, for the sake of his entertainment. But, I still can’t wrap my head around that possibility: why would he lie, why promise we’d see each other again, and make grand declarations of a special connection between us? I’m hurt, and lost… and those feelings amplify a thousand times when the same extraordinarily gorgeous woman appears at Magnu’s side. The one from the trashy magazine Vanessa showed me! She’s wearing a stunning evening gown, what’s sure to be precious stones jewelry, and her hair is made up in an intricate updo. But, the most beautiful and brightest item on her isn’t any of the insanely expensive items she’s sporting. It’s her expression of pure bliss, the happiness transpiring from her smile and the enamored gazes she throws Mag’s way. And, the fact he doesn’t return her adoring looks mean nothing at this moment. Because the words ‘A Royal Wedding’ splatter the screen in big, bold letters! With a smaller caption at the bottom: ‘King Magnus of Montescu & Newly Announced Fiancee, Princess Isabella of Romania’... Heart? Meet iron-gloved, clenching fist.
* * *
The following days are a blur of pain, robot-like behavior and slowly creeping numbness. And, I don’t even fully understand why my heart is so involved! I spent less than a week with Magnus. But in those short days, he crawled his way so deep into my being, that I don’t know how I’ll ever recover from this man. He’s marked me with every part of his body. With what I thought was a beautiful soul. With his warmth, his kindness. His laughter and gentle words. And I thought Ryan had ruined me...
* * *
MAGNUS
“Are you sure, Lex?”
I grip my cousin’s shoulders so hard, my fingers will probably leave bruises! He smiles his slow, wicked, cat-that-got-the-mouse grin, and nods. Just once. One dip of Alex’s chin is all it takes for the anvil that’s been weighing on my shoulders, for weeks now, to finally lift.
“We’ve really got her?”
He acquiesces, again by simply moving his head. Way too happy at the perspective of the confrontation he’s about to have with Bella.
The strength of my hold releases, but I keep my hands on his wide shoulders in an affectionate gesture.
“Thank you, brother.”
“My absolute pleasure, Your Majesty. This bitch needs to be taught a lesson, and I’m just the man for the job.”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“So evil…”
He shrugs.
“You’re the fair, noble king. Leave me to my role of dark prince. Works just fine for me.”
I want to stay here shooting the shit with Alex, but my restlessness takes over. Alex rolls his eyes.
“Go.”
“You sure? Positive?”
He grabs me by the back of my neck.
“You’re a good man, Mag’. You deserve to be happy. There was no way this situation”, his lips sneer at the word, “was going to be anything other than a temporary nuisance.”
He pats me on the back, with a warm smile this time.
“Go get your girl.”
My girl. I can barely contain myself. I’m finally free to get back in touch with Ina. Free to get things back on track with her. And after the hell I just went through, pretending to be engaged to Isabella… Ina and I are about to skip a few steps in this relationship.
* * *
INA
“This is Ina.”
I pick up without checking the screen, and almost fall off my chair when I hear Mag’s voice!
“Lastan…” he breathes through the microphone. Like the word has been clogged in his throat, like he’s been saving air in his lungs to say it out loud.
I hang up the phone and turn it on mute. It’s 3:12 in the afternoon. I still have a good couple of hours till the end of my workday. There is no way I’ll let a blast from a way too recent past blow my mental stability into dust!
I valiantly ignore the phone screen flipped over to face my desk for maybe ten minutes… when I reach for it and check, I have twenty-five missed calls, all from the same foreign number. Twelve text messages, and five voicemails. In ten minutes…
My office line rings and I pick up with dread in the pit of my stomach.
“Ina speaking.”
“Please, don’t hang up!”
I do. In the same movement, I get up from my desk, gather my things. Stuffing random objects into my purse and laptop bag, I rush out of my office, throwing to Vanessa on my way out:
“I’m gonna finish working from home. See you Monday, call me if there’s anything.”
She’s holding her own landline receiver, watching me with huge, telling eyes. And I know exactly who called Vanessa’s office line. Nope, I’m out of here!
* * *
The short drive from The Clemence to my house feels like a veritable journey. With my shaky hands and fast beating heart, I have to pay extra close attention to not wreck my car.
Once home, I check my cell phone: no more calls or messages. Now what does this mean? Did he come back to stir the pot one ultimate time? What was he even calling about?! Don't wanna know! I've worked hard to get back to myself, pushed out of the dark place I was falling into after Mag' first left, then even deeper after seeing the announcement of his engagement. I will not be dragged back!
* * *
I wake up in the middle of the night, with the TV still on. As well as all the lights in my apartment and the sound system… I passed out of exhaustion on the living room couch, and my neck can attest to it!
By pure, dumb reflex, I take a look at my phone, and there it is: the proof that Magnus was once again just toying with me. Nada.
I hung up on him twice, and ignored his calls and messages for maybe an hour. That's all it took for His Majesty to disappear back into oblivion. Some strong interest, alright!
After having turned everything hung off, I drag myself to bed with a heavy heart. Sad and hurt all over again.
What is it with me and this man? Why am I so sensitive to him? Well, there's the small fact that he's gorgeous, charismatic, and a king… but even so: he hurt me. So bad! I jumped into our insane attraction, opened my heart, took a leap of faith and he crushed me. Leaving me behind without a word, likr used goods. Then announcing his engagement barely a week after that. And now, now he's calling me!! What the hell for?!
I don't think I can stand this. I don't want to deal with these emotions alone. Didn't want to worry my family, but it seems like a few weeks back home are becoming necessary. Plus, there's no way he'll track me down there!
* * *
I fall into a heavy, restless sleep that shows in the bags under my eyes, when I face the bathroom mirror.
Despite my fatigue, I get up early and start the preparations for my trip back home.
First off, I email Mr. Garcia my request for time off. Workaholic that he is, he responds within minutes. Giving his approval, as we're getting towards the end of the busy season, and my responsibilities can be split between the rest of the managing team.
Then, I start perusing airline websites for tickets. My timing is not the best, as I'd like to take off in a couple of weeks. But, it's also not so short notice that ticket prices would be outrageous.
This simple decision, flying home to Bamako. Taking a much needed break from my environment, that's stained with memories of Mag'. Having taken the main steps to accomplish this, already makes me feel better. Take that, you manipulative asshole!
* * *
I skip both breakfast and lunch, because: yeah, I'm feeling better, but this girl's still got a broken heart…
Later
in the afternoon, I decide to go for a stroll on the beach. In a summer dress, sandals, wide hat, and sunglasses, I make my way down stairs. And right in front of my building, there's a gleaming Bentley haphazardly parked, with a disheveled King Magnus of Montescu leaning against the door. Arms crossed over his large chest. The dark circles under his eyes, possibly worse and hang mine. Jaw locked. And, looking as amazing as the first time I laid eyes on him…
I hear the thud of my purse hitting the ground. Magnus closes the distance between us in a couple of strides. Eyes never leaving mine. He bends over to pick up my bag, and gives me a chin lift towards my building entrance. Since I'm virtually paralyzed, Magnus places his large, warm palm at the small of my back and guides me back inside. We climb the short expanse of steps to my first floor apartment, and he puts his open palm out. I stare blankly.
"Your key, please Lastan."
A cold spike pierces my heart, and I drop my keys with trembling fingers into his awaiting hand.
Magnus opens and lets us in. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. Nothing has changed: no Butler is about to miraculously appear, you dickhead!
The first shock of seeing him again is starting to wear off, being replaced by pure, unadulterated fury.
"What the fuck do you want?"
Magnus takes a step back, his ocean blue eyes opening wide at my aggressivity. But he quickly regains contenance, trying to take my hands in his.
"We need to talk, my love."
"Love? Who the fuck do you think you are to call me that?!"
Hands at my waist, I look up into his face, holding on to my rage with teeth and nails. Fighting to not let all that's Magnus of Montescu get to me. His formidable height looming over me. The massive bulk of his muscled body. His aristocratic features. The smearing of freckles softening his masculine beauty. The full, pink lips that I know are both pillow soft and firm. But it's already a lost cause… in my madness, I'm breathing deep, heavy gulps of air that fill my nostrils with his scent. His magnificent scent: woodsy cologne and simply him. I'm goddamned screwed!
