Return of the Prince

by Nana Malone

  "I—"

  She held up a hand. "Okay, you know what, let me tell you what I know."

  I threw my hands up. "By all means. You barged into my room, wanting to tell me all about my life. What the hell do you know?"

  "What I know is you've been paying Ella. For every public appearance she makes, you pay her $20,000. She's amassing a small fortune from you."

  "I'm not paying her. Look at it as perks."

  "Perks? She gets a monthly stipend from you."

  "Again, perks. I have it, why not give it to her?"

  "Right after she left her manager, she was blackballed. Couldn’t get a role for a year. She couldn't get a gig. Not a single one. But you, as soon as you became a couple, you started getting all these endorsements. The two of you were labeled the ‘it’ power couple. She was always on your arm. And she's a great actress, so she played the part to perfection."

  I crossed my arms. "Is there something you're trying to ask me in there?"

  "Yes. There is. And all I want is the truth. No embellishments, no extras, just the truth."

  "Yeah, I'm still waiting for a question." She was too close. She probably had already guessed on her own. She knew about the money. I was praying she didn't guess the rest of it. But what could I do? If she guessed on her own, it's not like I told her. But still, I couldn't betray Ella.

  There's no more betrayal. Max is gone.

  Semantics.

  "Is your relationship with Ella real? Are you in love with her? Is she in love with you? Are you actually ever planning to get married?"

  I opened my mouth to answer and then closed it. I needed to think this through. What was I going to say?

  Finally, I said, "You already know the answer."

  "You never touch. You talk to her but there's no, I don't know, intimacy. And when you do touch, it looks like a performance."

  She knew. She already fucking knew. "You already have all the information you need."

  "That's right. So let's say maybe you can't tell me. Maybe you gave her your word, and your word is your bond. So let's pretend that after ten years, you see me, and there are residual feelings on your side."

  I lifted a brow. "On my side, okay." For the moment, I'd let that one slide.

  "From the beginning, you tell me everything isn't as it seems. You tell me that you can't talk about your past, not that you won't."

  I nodded slowly. "This going somewhere?" I hoped it was going very far away from where it was careening toward.

  "Yeah. I think that the rumors I've managed to dig up on your friend at the airport, Max Jacobson, are true. There are all these underground rumors that he's been sexually abusing and exploiting his young starlets for years, decades, but that Hollywood has buried it. I think Ella was one of his rising starlets, and he did a number on her. I think that Max had the idea, along with probably your agent, for a marriage or relationship of convenience. You make each other look good. Both your cachets would go up. It’s a tale as old as time, right?"

  I crossed my arms.

  "I'm not done. I think Max got a little jealous. Maybe Ella’s fake feelings became real. Am I getting close?"

  I shrugged. "You seem to have it all figured out."

  "Fine. I'll keep going. But what I can't figure out is why today?"

  I ran my hands through my hair. "Ariel, just let it go. Just know that I'm okay. My safety isn't an issue. And Ella's okay. She's safe. She's clear."

  She shook her head vehemently. "No. You're going to tell me."

  "I don't have to tell you shit."

  "You owe me this. After everything, just tell me the fucking truth."

  She was close. Too close. If I stood, her breasts would be pressed into my chest. Her pupils dilated, and I watched her sudden awareness of how close she was to me. She attempted a step back, but my hand snapped out and captured her wrist. Gently, but still, I wasn't letting her go. "You just can't let it go, can you?"

  She tipped her chin up and glared at me. "No, I can't. You've been dicking with my emotions for weeks. Kissing me and then telling me that you don't want me, and then kissing me again and telling me that I belong to you and I am yours. Only to learn you're not in a real relationship. Or not a traditional one anyway. I just want the truth. Because something happened with Max today, and I think it had a hell of a lot to do with Ella."

  I didn't let her go, and I could feel her anger and the turmoil and the need bubbling forth. Ella is safe now. She never has to worry about him again. "You want to fucking know?"

  "Yes. Is your relationship a showmance? I just need to know if it's fake or not."

  I searched her gaze, the need to tell her the truth making my chest ache. "Yes. It's bloody fucking fake. Are you happy now?"

  She snatched her wrist free. And I blinked with the pride of how quickly she moved. "Jesus Christ." She wrapped her arms around her belly and stepped back three feet. "It was all a lie?"

  I ran my hands through my hair and then scrubbed them over my face. "The relationship is not real. We're not in love. We never have been."

  "But why? Why all this time? Why didn't you just tell me?"

  "I gave her my fucking word. And that matters to me."

  Her gaze met mine, fury laced in the green depths. "Your word? You pulled the wool over everyone's eyes."

  "Yeah. To keep her safe."

  She blinked at me. "From Max?"

  She knew. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

  "Just talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me everything."

  "I don't need your help."

  "You think you don’t. But at some point, Max is going to put it together that you framed him. Then what?"

  I glowered at her. "Shut up, Ariel. Do not do this."

  "Well, why not? The truth's coming out anyway, so we might as well do it right."

  I stepped forward. "Yeah. I planted something on him. You realize he tortured her for years. Tried to ruin her career. He threatened her. Repeatedly. When the media loved us and she started to outgrow him, he threatened to tell everyone we were faking it. He threatened to ruin her if she didn't leave me. She called crying, and I went to her place. When I got there, I found her beaten bloody. That asshole. He could've killed her."

  Ariel recoiled. "Oh my God."

  "Yeah. Oh my God. He'd been hurting her for years. He'd met her when she was seventeen, and he promised her parents he was going to make her a star. And he did. But he also tortured her. And I know a little something about that."

  She stumbled back. "Oh my God. I—" She shook her head. "I didn't—"

  "You didn't know? How were you supposed to know? We played our parts to the T. If I ever loved her, I loved her like a friend. And God knows she needed one of those."

  "So you just what, put your life on hold for all these years?"

  I shrugged. "I've been discreet and so has she. But yeah basically. We didn't work at a real relationship. I guess both of us are too broken. But it's never been real. I promised her that I would make him pay."

  She covered her mouth. "You realize what they're going to do to him, right?"

  "No less than he deserves. He tortured her for years."

  Ariel tripped into a chair. "Jesus Christ."

  "I considered killing him, but even I'm not that fucked up. Besides, that'd be too easy for him."

  "They've arrested him. It looks like the state department and his lawyers are involved. He's going to be tied up in this for a while. He's going to spend some real time in jail down here."

  "Yeah, that was kind of the point."

  She studied me. "You did all this to save her?"

  I swallowed and leaned back against the desk. "Yeah. She deserves some freedom. His other clients do too."

  "But why? What do you get out of it?"

  I shook my head.

  "Oh, come on, don't stop the honesty train now."

  "She was going to help me get some information from Ashton."

  "You're brother? But by the time you g
uys got together, he was already in jail."

  "Yeah, I know. He has some files that I'd rather not get out. He's been holding them over my head for years."

  "What files?"

  "None of that's important. Now."

  "So is she going to get them?"

  I shook my head. "No. Once I realized that maybe Max was her stalker, or that maybe he was trying to kill us, I stopped that. Whatever Ashton's got on me isn’t worth it. I'd rather just make sure she's safe."

  "If you tell me, maybe I can help you."

  The anger surged to life again. "No. You are staying away from this."

  "Why do you always do that? Why do you try to protect me? I don't need protection."

  "You have no idea what you need. I know. I know exactly what I'm dealing with. I've kept her safe, and I'm keeping her safe, so just stay out of it."

  "What the hell is your problem? Why are you like this? God, you can be so caring and wonderful and just like a real hero, and then you're just—"

  "And then what? Yeah, I’m fucked up. The woman I loved never fucking showed up.”

  "What the hell? You're the one who abandoned me."

  "Ariel, I wrote to you every day for a goddamn year. You never once wrote me back. So you don't get to peel back my skin, poke around, and act like I should be happy about it. No. You don't get to do that.”

  Lips trembling, her gaze met mine. "I never got a single letter."

  And my heart turned to ash.

  ARIEL…

  What letters? What the hell was he saying? It was too much. Too much information, too much pain, too much goddamn hope.

  Hope that it was possible, hope that I could have him. Hope that the last ten years had been some kind of dream and he could be mine again.

  “What letters?”

  He stared at me, pulling back slightly. "Stop it. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

  "That's the problem. I don't know what you're talking about."

  His gaze searched mine. "Stop. This isn't funny right now."

  "Well, I'm not laughing. I'm trying to understand what the hell you're talking about, why you think I would've gotten any letters from you."

  "Ariel, I wrote you. Daily for a while. Then weekly, then monthly. And then eventually once a year, and then I just stopped. It was too painful."

  "I never got a single letter."

  He ran his hands through his hair. "Stop lying."

  "Why would I lie? What purpose does it serve for me to lie to you?"

  "No." He shook his head. "No, no, no. I wrote you. And you just ignored them."

  "I don't know what you're talking about, Tristan. Last I heard from you, I was supposed to meet you on the docks."

  He actually did recoil then. "No, Ariel, I left you a note at the cabana. In our spot. Always in our spot. I told you what had happened. That I didn't have any time and had to leave. And it wasn't safe to call you. I left you a fucking ticket. One you never used, by the way."

  My gut twisted and knotted up, as I suddenly felt light and heavy at the same time. My head spun, and I was hot, too fucking hot. I couldn't look at him. I had to look anywhere but at him.

  It was just like you thought. Because he didn't want you.

  No. He didn't want me. He hadn't wanted me. I had gone back to that cabana. There was nothing there.

  I shook my head. "Stop. Stop dicking with me. It's cruel. Why be cruel when there's no need."

  "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not being cruel, Ariel."

  "There was no note, no letter, no fucking ticket."

  He shook his head as he ran his hands through his thick blond hair. "Stop it."

  "Tristan, I'm not lying."

  "Well, I'm not lying."

  He sighed. "Okay tell me exactly what happened that night."

  I didn't even know I was crying until the wetness hit my lip and I licked away salty tears. "I went to the docks just like we said. I was going to wait for the boat. Then you didn't show. I waited for two hours. Then I went to the cabana because I knew that's where we left notes. I looked in our shell. Just like always. There was no note in there. No ticket."

  He was still frowning. "Then what happened?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Then your brother found me in there. And he told me where you'd gone. That you'd abandoned me. That you left and you weren't coming back."

  “Ashton was there?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. I’d just finished searching the whole damn cabana in case you'd left a note for me somewhere else. But no luck. You were just gone. And there I was with my bags all packed like I was following you somewhere."

  "Ashton was there."

  "Yes, Ashton. Your brother. Asshole extraordinaire. You should've seen him. The look on his face. He was almost gleeful when he told me that you weren't coming back. That you'd abandoned me. I didn't know what else to think or say. All I knew was that you were gone."

  With a sigh, he collapsed on the floor. Towel still on, shirtless, his head laying back on one of the legs of the desk. "Fuck. Fucking Ashton."

  "What are you talking about Tristan?"

  "He must've found the letter and the ticket."

  "Really, Tristan?"

  He nodded slowly. "Ariel, I swear on my life. I left you a letter that night. A ticket. I wrote you letters from Madrid."

  "For the love of Christ, Tristan, I would've gotten them."

  "I sent them to your house, Ariel."

  I frowned. "You sent them to my house? With your name on them?"

  "Yeah."

  "Jesus Christ, Tristan… my dad."

  "I mean, I didn't know what else to do. You never showed up."

  "Because I was waiting for you."

  "Fuck, Ariel. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

  I shook my head. I couldn't think. My heart was racing too fast. And God, my legs. My fucking legs. I couldn't stand. But no way was I collapsing in front of him.

  I ran for the door.

  "Yeah, that's it, run away."

  "Tristan, I can't."

  I yanked the door open and ran out. Like a coward, I ran straight for my room, blindly trying to work through his words. Trying to piece together all the things. I'd lost ten years. Spent ten years loving someone who claimed he hadn't tossed me aside. Ten years loving someone who claimed that he had wanted me with him. Ten years believing the worst of him.

  I wasn't even looking where I was running. I just turned a blind corner and ran straight into Roone, my face literally bouncing off his chest.

  "Ariel, what the fuck?"

  I tried to dodge around him. But he held me steady.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Just let me go. I don't want to talk about it right now."

  His eyes widened in alarm when they searched my face. Yep, Roone had never seen me cry. And like every man before him, he looked ready to bolt.

  But instead of bolting, he grabbed me by the shoulder and tugged me into the nearest room. I looked around. It was his room. "Talk."

  "What do you mean talk? I've said all I can say, all right? I mean I don't know what else to tell you."

  "I mean, why are you so upset?"

  "I don't know. I just I don't want to do this."

  "Okay, fair enough. Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to tell you what's going on?"

  "Roone, I'm too tired for this, okay? I just I want to collapse. I need a minute."

  "Tell me. This isn't like you."

  I shook my head. "I don't even know where to start."

  "Well you can start with how you're in love with Tristan, he's in love with you, and you've been avoiding his service for the last week and a half."

  I glowered at him. "I have not been avoiding his service."

  He lifted a brow. "Really?"

  "Oh, fine. I've been avoiding his service. I just, I couldn't."

  "Then talk to me. What's going on?"

  "He just… God, I hate him."

  Roone chuckled. "Really? You
sure about that? Because you don't look like you hate him. You look like you're in love."

  "Shut up. I don't want to be in love.”

  “Yeah, that's not exactly how it works. Sorry to break it to you."

  "God, why is this so hard?"

  "Well, it's hard because it's love. Now tell me what's going on."

  "I found out that he and Ella aren't really engaged. It's a showmance, or whatever."

  He chuckled low. "Yeah, okay. Makes sense. Continue."

  I glared at him. "That makes sense?"

  He laughed. "How many times a day do you see me touching Jessa?”

  I opened my mouth to argue with him, and then I snapped it shut. Good point. "Fine. Maybe I should've seen that it wasn't real."

  "Yeah, also because he, in fact, spends half his time eye fucking you. You guys are pretty obvious. You can feel the longing. It’s sad and emo."

  "Thanks."

  "Don't mention it, mate. What else is bothering you?"

  “He says he wrote me letters. So many letters. I never got a single one. Supposedly he sent them to my house. There was this whole misunderstanding. We were supposed to meet and run away when we were kids."

  He frowned. "Okay, we'll get back to that. But let me solve the problem first. What letters?"

  "That's what I said."

  "When did he write them?"

  "He says starting from when he had to leave and go to Madrid."

  Roone held up a hand. "Hold my pint."

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to verify."

  "How are you going to verify mail from ten years ago?"

  "Well, you're almost forgetting that you worked in Intelligence. What happens to mail sent by any of the royals?"

  I frowned. "Well, okay. There's the royal process so even if they're abroad it goes through—" I blinked up at him. "Oh God. You can track it."

  He nodded. "Because even though Tristan was abroad, he was still a royal. So all his mail would have gone through inspection, then been delivered to its actual destination."

  "Everything was monitored."

  He nodded. "Yes, so there would've been a record. And they would've been kept and inspected by Intelligence before they were delivered."

  "Jesus Christ."

  "Yep. He would've handed them off to a guard who would've airmailed them to be reviewed first."

  "And then delivered."