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But, I have to say, the biggest turnaround has got to be The News of the Times. Abigail Adams. That lady used to be a fucking cunt to me a month ago. Now, she’s the sweetest fucking thing. Today’s Page Eight headline is in front of me. Want to know what it says?
“Sweet Sinner.”
That’s fucking right. They managed to get a picture of us outside on the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Daphne is looking out and I have my arms around her, wrapping her up. I’m kissing her cheek and she’s leaning into me.
Fuck. I don’t know how they’ve been so fucking spot on. They got it first when Daphne and I first met at Per Se. They got it when I rescued the little boy, even though I didn't want it public. They got the details on Daphne and basically have been controlling the story around her.
It’s like Pressly or Sam, or even Larry has been tipping them off. Don’t think I didn’t ask them. But each said no, and I fucking believe them.
“As long as the three tabloids are on your side, Derrick, you’re golden,” Larry is saying to me, as if reading my thoughts. Fuck. If I’m so transparent, no wonder it’s so easy for the gossip pages to capture me.
“I have to say, the philanthropy isn’t going unnoticed amongst the diplomats from the US,” my father says over speaker phone.
Fucking hell. Just what he would think about. This fucking cunt doesn’t give two shits about family.
“Fuck me, Leopold,” I burst out. “Do you even care about whether I get deported or not?” I ask.
Larry and Pressly draw sharp intakes of breath. I continue, not caring. “You know, never mind,” I say. “I want this trade deal to mean more to you than me, because it makes hating you that much fucking easier.”
There is a long pause on the other end of the line.
“Derrick, you’re my son,” the King says. “I love you. I’m sorry you don't believe that.”
He sounds fucking tired. But whatever. I don’t fucking care.
“So, court date coming up, the city seems to love me even more, but the newspapers really fucking love me, and Leopold’s trade deal is going well,” I say to Pressly and Larry. “Anything else?”
They both announce that they have nothing else. I hang up the phone before the King has a chance to say goodbye. He’s said his piece. I don’t want to hear any more from him.
“Sire,” Pressly takes me aside after Larry leaves. “I know the King and Your Highness have had difficulties, but I wonder if you should show him a bit more respect?”
I pause and look at Pressly. “You’ve been very loyal all these years since Mom died,” I say. “I hope that’s not going to fucking change.”
Pressly sighs. “Not at all, Your Highness,” he answers. “But I do know that the King loves you and…”
I don’t give him a chance to finish. “You call what he did to my mother love?”
I’m nearly screaming at him. But then I remember Daphne and I quiet down.
“You want to know what love is, Pressly?” I ask him. But I don’t wait for him to answer. “Daphne’s given herself to me selflessly. She’s helping me become a better man. She could have asked me for anything. But she didn’t. She only gave herself.”
Pressly is silent and I continue, “The total opposite of Leopold.”
I know it irritates everyone who I refer to the King by his first name. But it’s one of the only ways I can fight back against the shackles of royalty I was born into. If I had been just a regular man, I at least could have the option to never fucking talk to my father.
Pressly sighs and decides to drop the case. I’m glad. I was getting pretty fucking heated. But I think about what I said about Daphne.
I’m being serious. She’s like a fucking angel. My angel.
She makes me want to be a better man.
She helps me work at being that better man.
Fuck me, just the thought of her takes away all bad memories in my fucking head. I’ve nearly forgotten about the King, and Pressly - everything.
All I want to do is find her.
I head straight to the room, but I stop dead on my tracks as I hear the sound of running water coming from the master bathroom. I grab the golden knob of the door - it’s not locked, so I just turn it and step inside. A thick blanket of steam covers the whole room, but I can still see Daphne’s perfect shape through it.
