Page 176 of My Dark Prince
The blood drained from her face. Nearby, a dozen servers fussed over table placements, rearranging fine china, tulips, and candles, oblivious to Philomena’s impending heart attack.
Agnes, Felix, Oliver, and Jason joined us just then, piling into the room.
“The starters are almost served.” Agnes claimed the seat at the head of the table, opposite her husband. “Please join us inside.”
Philomena and I stayed in the hallway, nodding with fake smiles plastered on our faces. We waited for everyone to huddle into the dining room before she returned her attention to me.
“What are you talking about?” she hissed, baring her teeth.
“I heard you that night at the ball.” I folded my arms. “Your conversation with Cooper. Jason isn’t my dad.”
“He is in all the ways that matter. He gave you everything. Always treated you as if you’re his—”
“Did he, though? If this is all he’s capable of as a father, I’m glad I’m an only child.”
“What is wrong with you?” Tears glazed her eyeballs. She would never let them fall. Ruining her perfect makeup just for me was beneath her. “We paid your way through life until you turned eighteen.”
“You dropped me like a hot potato as soon as I celebrated my birthday,” I countered. “And not everything is about money. You literally left me in Switzerland and moved away.”
“It was a reputable school.”
“You never once called.”
“Yes, well, you did enough calling for both of us.”
I shook my head, exasperated. “You are not invited to the wedding.”
“Let’s not be hasty here.” She raised her hands up in surrender. “We made a mistake. But we’d like to reconnect. How can we do it?”
“You can’t.” As if I’d ever let them dip their toes into Oliver’s world – his wealth, his status, his parents. Everything that came with this fake wedding. “But it would be nice if you told me who Cooper is and where I can find him.”
Not that I would, necessarily. But I liked the idea of having the option.
Philomena rocked back on her heels, gnawing on her inner cheek. “This is not a conversation for right now.”
I threw my head back and laughed. It must’ve looked like we were sharing a lovely exchange. “You have no right to decide where and when I speak to you. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need to ask for permission to broach a subject. Either answer me and I’ll consider inviting you to my wedding, or don’t and bear the consequences.”
I was a woman of my word. Sure, I’d invite her if she fessed up. And place her at a table with Oliver’s accountants, far away from us. Worse still, I’d pair them with Dallas and Farrow, whom I knew would taunt them to oblivion and back.
Philomena opened her mouth, no doubt armed with a snarky response, but Oliver stuck his head from the dining room.
“Sweetheart?” He offered me his palm. “My father would like to make a toast, and frankly, I miss you too much to share you with the Wicked Witch of the West.”
Philomena gasped but didn’t confront him. He was way above her station. She needed to worm her way back into his good graces.
I beamed at my fake fiancé, accepting his hand. “Of course.”
For the first time in my life, I left my mother behind and not vice versa.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Briar
“Did you ever manage to pay back all the people who sued you?”
The question came from Felix, who still wore his frown as he sliced the bloody filet mignon on his plate.
I choked on my tofu stir fry – props to Ollie planning in advance for my food restrictions – and swung my gaze between Jason and Felix. Jason coughed into his napkin, clearly uncomfortable.
