by Dark Angel
That was it. She didn’t get a chance to finish.
The doorbell rang.
The doorbell fucking rang.
But I didn’t like the sentence she had started and didn't move. This was more important. I sat there.
Until Pressly came into the breakfast room. “Your Highness, your father is here,” he said.
Anything else in the world I would have told them to wait.
But my dad? After everything we had gone through? No way.
But still, I would come back to what Daphne had to say, I told myself.
“Dad!” I yelled, walking into the room, letting my mind go blank for a moment as I hugged him.
“So good to see you, Derrick,” the normally reserved King said as he grabbed me in a hug. Yeah, we hugged, okay? I don’t care if you don’t think it was fucking manly. I still have my pair of giant fucking balls.
Sorry if I sound a bit fucking pissed, mate. I’m a little bit frazzled from the whole fucking day.
Only he wasn’t just there by himself. He was there with his Press Secretary.
“Hello, Samantha,” I said straightening up. She was Dad’s secret girlfriend. I’d known for some time now. At first, I’d hated her because I’d always felt that Dad had cheated on Mom with her. It turns out, they had gotten together only recently. And once Daphne told me about my mother, I basically forgave Dad.
“Hello, Your Highness,” she said smiling at me and shaking my hand. Then her eyes went wide as she looked past me. And said the words that fucking killed me.
“Alicia?” she asked out loud, and my heart leapt. “What are you doing here?”
Where was Alicia? Did they bring her with them? What would I do? Fucking Christ!
I turned around.
There was Daphne. Standing in the entryway from the living room to the foyer, wearing that cute white camisole and lace boy shorts. She looked so adorable.
My heart began to beat but I told myself that I had made the same mistake when I first saw Daphne also. Thinking she was Alicia.
Daphne looked at me with a pained expression. I took a step towards her.
“Daph…” I trailed off as she moved her eyes past me and looked to Samantha. Tears were starting to stream down.
“Hi Mom,” she said and my world started to spin.
Clearly, Samantha Bayer was shocked. My father wasn’t sure about what was going on either. But I’m the one who had his fucking world blown to bits.
So many times I talked about Alicia - it turns out I was talking about her to her!
My brain was spinning and I thought I was going to fall.
“Alicia, what’s going on?” Samantha asked, and Daphne looked at me, concern creasing over her face as she saw me hold onto the banister and try to piece everything together.
“We’re getting…” Alicia/Daphne was about to reply when there was some commotion outside and the front door burst open. I looked over, wondering what else could happen at that moment.
And that’s when the cunt DA, Samantha Scar, walked in. There were four NYPD plainclothes detectives with her and five uniformed officers.
Sam was standing helplessly by as they walked through the door and into the foyer.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he said. “I couldn’t stop them.”
Samantha gave me a cold look and looked over at Alicia. She took in the King and Samantha in her gaze.
“Ah,” she said simply and then took a breath before looking to Alicia. “You were about to deliver happy news, no?”
Daphne…fuck, Alicia, was silent and looks down.
“Well, not so happy now, I’m afraid,” Samantha said and turned towards Samantha. “I see you on television. You’re the Press Secretary for St. Livy. Your daughter thinks she’s going to marry the Prince.”
Samantha gasped and Alicia’s face crumpled. Despite everything, I was getting angry and I stood up straighter. Then Samantha turned towards me.
“Your Highness, unfortunately I’m going to have to place you under arrest,” she said as she nodded at the two uniformed officers who moved my way. I stood stunned as they came closer and put my hands behind my back.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Samantha said. “The statute of limitations for your little stunt four months ago is about to expire, and I didn’t want to lose the opportunity to kick your ass out of this country.”
“The people of this city love the Prince!” my dad bellowed, coming to my defense. Samantha turned to face him and she regarded him coolly.
“King Leopold,” she said politely. “The people may love him now, but when they see just what kind of mess he’s in, they’ll turn against him and want him expelled.”
I remain silent as Samantha walked up to me. “But it’s okay Derrick,” she whispered. “It’s not like you had anything worth saving up here anyways.”
I wanted to say something but too much was going through my head to reply before she continued.
“I mean, the woman you love, isn’t actually Daphne Apple - but I’m guessing you just found that out, right?” she said with an evil gleam. When I didn’t respond, she continued. “But did you know that she’s the one that’s been writing the gossip columns about you? That she works at News of the Times? That she worked at my instructions to destroy after your little rodeo at the CBC studios four months ago?”
Fuck. Me.
Now it felt like someone had taken off their shoe and slapped me in the face with it.
What the fuck was going on?
Tears fall from Alicia’s face as Samantha leaned close but whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Did you know her job was to write as much dirt about you as possible?” she asked. “That she came up with the name ‘Prince Sin’?”
Speech was gone. It felt like my heart was stabbed.
I didn’t even notice when Samantha gave the nod for the officers to march me out of my home and into the squad car.
Only this time as I exited the building, the press was waiting. I did the perp walk out of my building and into the waiting police car in a fucking daze.
* * *
In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot. I was blinded by something. I’m trying to wonder if it’s love.
I should have wondered how a stripper as gorgeous as Daphne wasn’t more famous.
I should have done a background check on her.
I should have asked how she was able to keep supporting herself while she wasn’t working as a stripper. She couldn’t have had that much saved up.
I should have wondered how she was able to pull up some detailed searches on my father and mother. It never occurred to me that she had inside access as a journalist.
I should have realized that her sources on her fucking gossip column were none other than herself.
I’m a fucking fool, mate.
I stare at the bars to the holding cell.
This is where I belong.
Alicia
“Darling, are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Mom asks me as I get ready to leave One57. The King is standing next to her, a grave expression on his face.
It’s several hours after Derrick was taken away in handcuffs and I’ve just spent the entire time crying in my mother’s lap as the King and her have tried to calm me down.
I went through everything. How I jumped at the opportunity to teach Prince Derrick Blaine a lesson. How Mike helped me set up a secret identity. How this was supposed to only be a few articles before the DA took action and should have been over by now. But then how my apartment got broken into, Derrick saved me from Jake, and I finally gave into the fact that I had fallen in love with him.
“Oh, dear, you were in love with him even before you left St. Livy,” Mom told me towards the end.
I blush now thinking back to a few hours ago when I had looked at her with confusion when she said that to me.
She had only nodded her head and looked to the King with a slight smile.
“You were always
so upset with him and he was always tormenting you that the King and I had several discussions after work,” she told me. “We got to know each other and that’s actually what started Leo and I on this journey we’re on together as well.”
I didn’t know what to say then and I don't know what to say now, but Mom continues, “When the King and I talked, we both found out that out of everyone both of you were always the ones that were secretly upset at each other. He thought you ignored him and you thought he tormented you.”
“It was pretty obvious it was love,” the King chimes in.
I smile, thinking of the two of them. At least Derrick and I were able to make someone happy.
“Are you sure you want to go back to your apartment?” the King asks me. “I think it’s perfectly fine for you to stay here.”
My eyes are still red from crying but I shake my head definitively. I can’t stay in Derrick’ place. Not until I get a chance to talk to him. I want to say how sorry I am. I want to apologize. But I don’t know where to start.
Luckily, the King sees my face and I think he understands, because he lays a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t you worry, lassie,” he says in his off-English accent that I find so irresistible in him. “Derrick will come around, I know it.”
“I hope…” I was going to say more but my heart is literally afraid of hope. I stop myself. My mother comes over to hug me and the King squeezes my shoulder and gives me a friendly smile.
“Listen to me, Alicia,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “No matter what you may or may not have done, you alone brought my son back from a darkness which I helped create by hiding the truth from him. For that at least, I thank you, and pledge to do everything I can to help you.”
Wow. These Blaine men have a way with words. But it makes me feel a bit better. I manage a smile and I give the King a hug, and then I hug and kiss my mother.
They wave as I leave and get into a cab and in ten minutes I’m standing outside my door in the Lower East Side.
I walk in and look around. Derrick had Sam fix everything and put everything back in order so I could Airbnb out the place, but even so, it has an air of sadness as I sit on the couch. I remember how just four months ago I walked through the living room to find Jake and Chrissy in bed together, naked. I barely think of Jake anymore. I’m too busy being Daphne as well as Alicia.
I sit on the couch and sigh. Tears come out all over again. For Derrick, I can’t stop crying. I had the perfect life. But it was built on a lie.
“Those aren’t tears for that asshole Jake, are they?” a voice penetrates me out of my darkness and I look up.
Oh my God! It’s Jenna!
She’s standing at the door and has a duffel bag on her shoulder. Apparently I forgot to close the door, but that’s a good thing!
“Jenna!” I shriek and bound off the couch. Jenna drops her duffel bag and runs towards me. I give her a hug and then pull away to look at her.
“Are you moving back in?” I ask, excited.
Jenna gives me a sheepish shrug. “Alicia, I’m so, so, sorry,” she tells me the first thing out of her mouth. “I wanted to come back and apologize to you, and pay you back the rent I should have paid, but I’ve been too scared at what you’re going to say or do…”
I don’t let Jenna finish. “You can move back in whenever you want!” I say. I’m not thinking about Jake at all. I’m thinking instead about the fun that Jenna and I used to have. How we used to go for jogs along the water, or out to brunch after a night out. I miss those days. They seem so much simpler.
“No, I need to tell you, I seriously fucked up, Alicia,” Jenna tells me, sitting me down. I remain silent. “I believed Jake when he told me you were purposely withholding sex from him and using him to get him to do things for you. That you were using sex as a weapon over him.”
I gasp. “I never even…” I’m about to continue when Jenna shushes me.
“I get that now. It took me a long time but when I heard how he attacked you, I was glad that he’d stopped calling me after you guys broke up. I’ve been wanting to apologize ever since for what I did,” she says.
I’m about to tell Jenna that I forgive her when she continues, as if she’s reciting something that she prepared. “But I knew I couldn’t just come back and say sorry,” she says. “I had to make a gesture to show you that I meant it.”
Now I’m silent.
She takes a deep breath.
“It took a lot of work, and literally getting my Dad to talk to everyone he knows from his business contacts, but I think I got it,” she says, and pulls out an envelope from her duffel bag.
“I submitted some of your recent work and got it shown to the right people. There’s an interview ready for you as a Senior Politics Reporter at The New York Sun, if you want it.”
Oh, my. I don't know what to say. I can’t even begin to fathom how Jenna was able to get the necessary contacts to get me this opportunity to work with the most prestigious newspaper in the country. Literally, the paper of record for the United States of America. I’m literally speechless.
“It was hard,” she says, as if hearing my thoughts. “It literally took four months of digging while I lived at home, but it was worth it,” she says.
I don’t know what to say, so I barely manage a “Thank you, Jenna.”
She nods. “I needed you to know how sorry I was,” she says to me, looking me in the eyes. “And I knew you were miserable writing gossip, so I put everything I had to make a grand gesture to show you.”
I reach over to hug her. I have so much to tell her.
But what she said to be starts tickling at my brain. She was sorry. She made a grand gesture to show me how much.
It’s an idea that noodles around my brain while we open a bottle of wine and talk about our lives in the last four months.
It’s an idea that I wrestle with as I tell her all about Derrick and she consoles me.
It becomes a plan as we make dinner together.
And it gets me sitting at my desk after dinner, with Jenna’s blessing as I put it into fruition.
* * *
The next morning, I walk into work. There are some stares in my direction. People have either heard about what went down with Derrick yesterday from the newspapers or they’ve heard about Samantha’s meeting with Mike, Danielle, and me.
Whatever. I’m not some fragile little girl. I’m a force of nature today.
I walk into Mike’s office and he looks up and smiles at me.
“Tomorrow’s column,” I say and hand him my piece. He takes it and reads it.
Then he reads it again. And again.
Finally, he looks at me.
“You’ll probably get fired for this, Alicia,” he says. “I won’t stop you from running with it, but I won’t be able to protect you.”
I nod. I could probably be throwing away my chance at the most prestigious newspaper in the country, The New York Sun, as well with this piece. But that’s my grand gesture. “I know,” I tell him.
Then I walk out the door.
Derrick
“All rise,” the Bailiff announces as the entire courtroom gets to its feet and an elderly looking judge comes in from his office attached to the back. The Bailiff continues. “The Honorable Judge Walter E. Byrd is now presiding over the Federal Court for the 10th Circuit. Please be seated.”
I sit down.
Judge Byrd peers over his bench and looks at me. “Prince Blaine,” he says. “I thought we reached an understanding that we were never going to have to see each other in a professional capacity?”
I stand back up to address him. This whole experience is like some fucked up Deja vu. I was arrested two days ago. The papers had a field day yesterday. My arraignment is today. I don’t know what I’m going to say to the judge after this fucking whirlwind, but before I can address him, Larry stands up and speaks up next to me. “My client thought so as well, Your Honor, which is why we seek to dismiss all charges this
morning.”
There’s a snort of derision from across the aisle. I look over and Samantha Scar, the District Attorney from Hell, is standing as well, dressed in a pinstripe black power skirt and suit.
In normal situations, Samantha would look hot. She’s got the tits and ass to make sex a fun experience with any man. But she’s also got some sort of crazy hateful rage that’s guiding her at this point as she looks at the judge and begins to speak, “Your Honor, Prince Derrick Blaine represents a clear and present danger to the well-being of all New Yorkers and it’s the job of the District Attorney to defend the population.”
I wish Judge Byrd would just say something because I see him roll his eyes a bit as he asks, “What are the charges, Counsel?”
Samantha takes a deep breath and dives in, “Conspiracy to commit lewd and lascivious acts, gross obscenity, public drunkenness, willful harassment of a threatening sexual nature, aggravated sexual assault, and willful vandalism of the public trust,” Samantha declares. There are literal gasps throughout the court and I can’t believe how half of this is even going to stick.
“Specifically, Your Honor,” Samantha continues. “His Highness went to a CBC interview after a night of heavy drinking where he proceeded to sexually assault the interviewer who was supposed to be working with him. This was caught on live camera, at which point network executives attempted to intercede but were stopped by the Prince. He then proposed to expose himself in front of those live cameras and subject the entire nation to a shameful display of his own vanity before running out of the studios.”
Fuck me. I’m fucked, after listening to Samantha put it like that.
“So the Prince got caught screwing and then flashed around his junk to the country?” the Judge asks with a smirk. Samantha frowns at him and he straightens up, clearing his throat and addressing Larry. “Mr. Summers, how does your client plead?”
Larry clears his throat. There are titters of laughter throughout the court as people pull up the video of me on YouTube. “Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty and seeks to dismiss the charges. These events occurred four months ago and the District Attorney has had the chance to bring up charges, but she has not. Only with the statute of limitations arriving on these acts has she decided to take action.”
