And if I was starting to feel this way, I wondered just how long Jude felt this way, too.
4
Margeaux
The morning after my little party with Lila, I probably should have been hungover but wasn’t. I barely ever got hungover. The perks of being me! I ran home to shower, straightened my hair, and got dressed before heading back to Jude’s for breakfast. I just loved watching his tortured face as the redhead cleaned up after me and did her best to ignore Jude’s hateful taunts.
As soon as I walked through the front door, I yelled for Janey. “Tell the girl we’ll have a power breakfast today and make it quick! I’m absolutely starving!”
I took the stairs two at a time and threw the door open to Jude’s room. He was actually awake and already dressed for once. He rose dutifully and pecked me on the cheek.
“Morning,” he said flatly.
Not the warmest of welcomes, but that was part of the fun, wasn’t it?
“Good morning, Judiekins.” I opened the balcony door and plopped onto the wrought iron seats. Looking out across the sumptuous Carlisle family grounds, I felt a surge of pure happiness. This feeling was only compounded by Brooklyn staggering under the weight of a tray laden with egg-white omelets, spinach wraps, coffee, and two towering pink smoothies.
Oh, how I loved to watch that girl struggle. I only hoped she dropped the food. Then, I got to berate her for that and watch the show all over again!
She laid out the settings as I watched with a smile. Was it just me or did she look even more miserable than usual today? I shot a glance at Jude, who was glaring off into the distance. I felt on top of the world.
“Jude, isn’t one of the mottos of your service staff, ‘service with a smile’?” I said in a honeyed voice.
Jude grunted in acknowledgment, still staring out across the garden.
“I’d say that it’s the smile part of that phrase that’s really important, wouldn’t you?” I looked pointedly at the redhead. “Girl? I’m talking to you.”
She kept her eyes on the table, laying place settings and arranging silverware. A fully set table for breakfast, indeed, every meal was something that I absolutely insisted on. I mean, if someone was going to do something, do it right, because I wouldn’t even grab a handful of peanuts if they weren’t presented correctly.
Then, Brooklyn finally spoke. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re answering me, but it doesn’t feel like you are actually listening to me.” I steepled my fingers together, admiring the twinkle of my diamond ring in the sun as I did. “You see, girl, there is listening to someone speak, and then there is hearing someone speak. If you hear something, maybe it has entered your ears, but to fully take it in, you must be actually listening. I know that public schools are abysmal, but have I made it simple enough for you to understand?”
I watched her face grow pink and suppressed a smile. She hadn’t allowed herself to be baited by myself or Jude in so long some of the fun had leaked out of having her serve us at all.
Until now.
“I understand, ma’am,” she said with a soft break in her voice.
Oh, how wonderful. “What do you understand? How can I be sure when you still have not deigned to smile? You serve us, but without any sort of warmth or sincerity. Therefore, you are only completing half of your duties.”
She forced a smile that was so gruesome I flinched.
“Really, Jude, she’s scaring me now.” I drew back from the table and nudged his shoulder with mine. He finally looked up and seemed to realize what was happening.
“What are you talking about?” He looked between us.
“I simply asked the girl to fulfill the Carlisle staff motto of service with a smile, and she made a horrible face at me. Honestly, she looks like some kind of goblin.”
The heat on the redhead’s face had reached the tip of her ears. I watched her swallow her words with what appeared to be a great effort. And it brought me more joy than I could describe. Maybe now, this bitch understood her place in life. Understood that while she could fuck my fiancée, she certainly couldn’t have him.
And he couldn’t have her, either.
“Smile,” Jude commanded, sending a little shiver of pleasure through me.
I loved it when he lorded himself around, as long as he never tried it with me. He knew better at this point, though. It wasn’t something I worried about.
Much, anyway.
The redhead forced another miserable smile and turned back quickly to the table in an attempt to finish up and get away from us as quickly as possible, I was sure. It wouldn’t work, though.
Not today.
“Stop what you’re doing,” Jude said, his tone brooking no room for argument.
She slowly stopped.
“Look at us.”
She dropped her hands to her sides and raised her eyes from the table, her face glowing so red it could likely be seen from space. It made me grin with pride.
“Smile,” he commanded.
Her cheeks quivered, but the ends of her lips turned up in a grin, one that for the first time actually seemed like a smile, although it was still closer to a grimace.
“If my fiancée expects service with a smile, then that is what she will get. Do your job, Brooklyn.”
That seemed to be the breaking point. Finally! She slammed a hand down on the table, knocking a poorly placed saucer to the ground where it smashed against the rustic tile.
“Do my job? I am doing my job. And I don’t believe that the Carlisle service motto says one fucking word about catering to the whims of two lazy, entitled assholes. I may be your maid, but I am not a slave. I can walk out of here at any time, and you two will lose all of your entertainment.”
Jude stood up so quickly his chair crashed to the ground. “Enough!”
The redhead tripped backward in surprise. I had to clench my fists to keep from clapping in glee.
“This is my home, my bedroom, my money that pays you. You will not speak that way, neither to my fiancée or to me, and especially not while you are in my home earning a paycheck from me and my family.”
“You two were baiting me—” she began, but Jude cut her off with a fist against the table, knocking cutlery to the ground with a pleasant tinkle.
“It doesn’t matter if we were baiting you or not. Only a child would fail so miserably to stay calm. Grow the fuck up.”
Her face had turned white, a stark contrast from the boiling red of before. And it was beautiful. Maybe I’d make that a color scheme in my home once Jude and I were married. To remind both of us of this beautiful, wonderful, delicious moment.
“Apologize to Margeaux.”
Her eyes didn’t turn to me. “My apologies, ma’am,” she said, sullen but sincere.
I nodded. “All right then. Don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“All right. Apologize to me,” Jude said.
“Apologies, sir.”
“Now get out. I’ll tell Janey to dock your pay for today and for the damaged dishes.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he interrupted yet again.
“Get out!”
She turned and fled, running through his room and was gone. I smiled at my fiancé.
“I love you, Judy.” I took his hand.
He didn’t say anything or return my look, but that was okay. I had just had the most wonderful idea. Before he could sink back into himself to stare out at the gardens again, I said, “Let’s get married this summer.”
His neck jerked as he turned to look at me. “What?”
“What are we waiting for?” I leaned forward in my seat toward him. “Let’s do it now. We can start planning today.”
“But, well…” he stammered. “There’s no need to rush, though. I mean, we’re only twenty-one….”
“That argument only works for people who are unsure of whether or not they will be married,” I pointed out. “And you and I have no lasting d
oubts, do we, my love?”
“Well, no, but….” His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to find a way out of this new trap.
“So, what are we waiting for? We’ll never be more attractive than we are right now. Our wedding photos will be gorgeous. We can go ahead and get working on a family as well. The sooner, the better!” I laughed.
“I-I-I--.”
“Judy, are you second-guessing our deal?” I asked, keeping my voice sweet.
His eyes held mine. “No.”
“Then why would you want to wait? Give me one reason if we are going to be married, why we shouldn’t get married this summer.” I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair. “I’ll wait.”
He was quiet, looking around for help, waiting for inspiration. But there was none. He was trapped, just like I had been my entire life. And what he didn’t understand was that once we were married and our trust funds were finally cashed out to us, we would be free. He didn’t understand it now. All he knew right now was pain and suffering, just like me. However, once we were married and we had our own money and our own place, we could say ‘fuck it’ to both of our families and live the life we wanted.
Maybe then, he’d see what I had been pushing him toward and finally love me.
Like I had loved him for so many years.
“I guess there isn’t one.” His shoulders, so strong and straight as he had told off that maid, slumped. He looked like a little boy all of a sudden. And I hoped that, one day, Jude would see the great efforts I had gone to in order to secure us a life away from all of this misery and abuse. My father’s anger, and his mother’s basement.
But, come hell or high water, I would be the only woman he loved.
I deserved at least that much out of life.
“Well, good.” I stood and smoothed out my skirt. “I will go talk to your mother right now. If we are to be married in June, there is not one moment to waste. We are already behind on the planning.” I dropped a kiss on his cold lips and left the room.
As I walked toward my soon-to-be mother-in-law’s office, I sighed in happiness. What a wonderful day. Everything was just as it should be.
5
Brooklyn
I slammed the door of my car so hard I was surprised it didn’t crash off onto the street. I peeled out of the Carlisle grounds, my heart racing, taunting me to push the gas pedal down harder… to drive faster.
Those absolute cretins. That fucking Margeaux. She baited the trap and sat back and waited with a pretty little smile until I couldn’t hold it in one second longer and exploded. I smacked the steering wheel with a yell. I had been so good about letting her little remarks slide off my shoulders. So good that I hadn’t let her get to me, and she had started to finally lose interest in torturing me. I wasn’t an idiot, though. I knew exactly how to deal with a bully. You stopped rising to the bait, you didn’t ever let them see if they upset you, and eventually, they got bored of toying with you and moved on to torture someone else.
All of those months of letting it slide had been for nothing, because today I not only let her get to me, I let her know that she had, and I was out nearly a full day’s wages. Again.
That saucer that had broken was antique china, and I was sure the silverware would be reported as scratched. I might be in the red with the Carlisle family for months to come.
I didn’t even want to think about the bills I’d have to default on just to make up that money from my measly little paycheck.
I let out another yell and stomped on the gas. That was it. I was done letting them push me around. I had spent the last fucking year being meek, a sissy, a silent little obsequious whipping girl maid. No more, though. Even if it cost my job. Even if it cost my career. Even if it cost my happiness. I didn’t want my career if I had to kiss the ass of one of the most vile and obscene families on this planet. I didn’t want my degree if it meant catering to the whims of abusers and bullies who wanted nothing but to see me suffer. Hell, even if I had to move to another country, change my name, and dye my damn hair, I’d do whatever it took to get away from this torture.
To get away from the Carlisles.
Fuck Margeaux. Fuck Jude. Fuck them all. If they wanted to treat me like dirt, then fine. I was going down, but so were they. Janey had treated me like a spy ever since Lila had pulled that little stunt with her camera. So, they were about to see what it was really like to have a spy in their camp. I had given up on finding anything good to use against them, but today had let my energy flood back. There was something on them that would ruin them forever, and I was going to find it.
The sooner the better.
I flicked on my signal to head to campus. I had a day off from my living hell, so I needed to put it to use. Why not start with a little research at the newspaper office?
6
Jude
Margeaux left, leaving me feeling exhausted and as if someone had whacked me across the face with an oar. Married… in June? Was she nuts?
No. She wasn’t nuts. She was high on the control, like Mother always had been.
I pulled out a cigarette with a shaky hand. Married to Margeaux in June. That was barely six months away from now. Ever since her ultimatum, I had resigned myself to the future that had been planned out for me. Marriage, children, work, death. I’d thought that I had come to terms with that as my reality. But clearly, I hadn’t.
Because this shook me to my cold, aching core.
She wanted to have children. The sooner, the better, she’d said. I tried to picture it. Margeaux as a mother. I shuddered. She would be just as bad as my mother, maybe even worse. And the absolute best I could hope for was that she would be entirely indifferent and would leave them to a team of nannies to deal with so she could continue to live her own life unimpeded. I had never considered myself to be particularly paternal before, had never even really thought of myself as a father at all, to be honest, But, something in me tightened at the idea of sharing a child with Margeaux.
I couldn’t allow children to come into this dynamic. I couldn’t raise a child in this atmosphere. It was selfish, and disgusting, and degrading.
Children everywhere deserved better than this.
Suddenly, the prison I had entered so calmly felt like it was shrinking in on me. I had to get out of here. I had to get some air. I stood and went into Lila’s room. She was still curled up in bed. I opened her freezer and pulled out a full bottle of Belvedere and left. On my way to the garage, I took one long, deep drink, feeling the burn dull my panic some.
I shoved the keys into the ignition and started to drive, keeping the bottle between my legs. As soon as I exited the gates of our lot, my chest loosened some. Lighting a cigarette and having another swig of vodka helped it loosen a little bit more, but it wasn’t enough. I drove carefully through the main roads, turning my nose to the less-used roads away from campus and the center of town.
And as soon as I had made it far enough, I rolled down all the windows and pressed the pedal flat against the floor.
I shifted as I came up against a hairpin turn and made it around perfectly, wheels sticking tight to the road, setting my heart pounding. I laughed aloud, the wind in my hair, and took another deep drink, not worrying about keeping my eyes too close to the road.
I needed to feel free. I needed to feel like myself again.
Before it was all taken away from me this summer.
7
Margeaux
Mrs. Carlisle loved the idea of a June wedding.
“This will be perfect. What a genius you are, Margeaux,” she said warmly, offering me a martini from the well-stocked bar in her office.
I crossed my legs and sank into the plush leather chair across from her desk.
“You are kind to say that, Mrs. Carlisle.”
She winkled and sat across from me at her desk. “Soon enough you’ll be calling me ‘Mother.’ This will also do wonders for my campaign, by the way. It’ll give me a chance to promote the warm, loving family
aspect of my life. That’ll resonate well with voters.”
“I had an idea about that,” I said. “What if we offered to fund a local family’s wedding? That way, we could make the wedding as lavish and over the top as we like without you worrying about the fall-out of being looked down on for it. You would be making two statements—feel jealous of how rich we are, but also see how kind and devoted to the community we are.”
Mrs. Carlisle looked at me approvingly. “That’s not a bad idea,” she mused, taking a sip of her own drink. “That’s quite brilliant, actually.”
She looked over her shoulder at the assistant huddling at a small desk in the corner, typing furiously.
“Jeanine!” she barked. “Make some notes. We need to find a family who’s getting married soon. Before the summer, preferably. Someone that will really tug on the heartstrings. A disabled war vet, maybe, or a fireman. Something good.”
She picked up the phone and pressed a button, and a voice came through the speaker on her desk.
“Yes, Mrs. Carlisle?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Send Carolyn in here. Tell her she’s off the Wymorth project for now. I want her to be at Margeaux’s beck and call, helping her to plan this wedding.”
“Yes, Mrs. Carlisle.”
Her finger slid away from the intercom button, closing off the communication line. “This is why I decided you and Jude should be married, you know. My children can both be so… sentimental.” Her lip curled at the idea. “You are much more practical. Like me. You and Jude will make an excellent match. He’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have him, and you,” I said.
She opened a datebook and flipped through the pages, then leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.
“Margeaux, how does June 8th sound as a day to become a Carlisle?”
BITTER PRINCE | A DARK COLLEGE BULLY ROMANCE: HEIRS OF HAVOC Page 3
