At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

“So, you see now why I need your help. Please, Cynthia. I don’t know what else to do.”

Brian finally stops talking, leaning forward on the bench where he’s sitting to rest his elbows on his needs, clasp his hands together between them, and give me a pleading look.

I stop pacing and lean my hip against the railing, crossing my arms in front of me as I stare down at him. When he first sat down, he patted the spot next to him on the bench, but I refused to get any closer to him than I had to. Plus, I feel like I have the upper hand by looking down on this complete waste of air that I still can’t believe I married and spent so many years with.

“Let me get this straight: You cheated on me with our babysitter, cleaned out our bank accounts and left me with nothing, ignored your own daughter so you could frolic around Mexico with a woman almost half your age, stole money from your parents’ company to fund this excursion, leaving me to figure out how to pick up the pieces—along with getting harassed by your parents for the last six months because they thought I knew where their money went—and now you expect me to lie for you? ARE YOU HIGH?!” I shout at him.

“Cynthia, please. There’s no need to raise your voice. Honestly, what has gotten into you?” Brian asks with a disappointed shake of his head.

The nerve of him! The. Nerve. I cannot believe he can sit there after telling me the most ridiculous story in the world and still have the balls to look at me like I’m the problem.

My arms drop to my sides and I clench my hands into fists as I glare at him, wishing he’d take those ridiculous sunglasses off his face while he talks to me so I don’t have to cut my hand on them when I punch him.

He must realize I’m about two seconds away from messing up his face and quickly starts to backpedal.

“Look, I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am for what I put you and Anastasia through. If I could take it all back, I would. I wish I’d never succumbed to Brittany’s charms. She made me feel young again, and because of that, I ruined everything. But I’m back now. I’m back, and I just want a chance to make things right. But I can’t do that without your help. I promise I’ll make it up to you and Anastasia. I will never stray again, and I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you. We had such a wonderful life together, Cynthia. We can have that again, but only if you help me,” he pleads.

I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. Never, in a million years did I expect Brian to show up on my doorstep, stupid enough to think I’d help him with anything after what he put me through.

“You told your parents you were kidnapped, Brian! Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?!” I ask, throwing my hands up in annoyance. “Let me just repeat this idiocy out loud so you can hear how stupid it sounds: You were blackmailed by Mexican drug lords who found out how much you were worth. For months and months, they forced you to steal money from Castle Creative, threatening to kill your family if you didn’t do as they say. Then, when you so gallantly tried to stand up to them and refused to give them any more money, they attacked you, drugged you, snuck you over the border, and held you hostage for the last six months, until you bravely managed to escape and come home to us. Did I get that right?”

Brian nods his head eagerly, clearly not hearing how far-fetched and stupid this sounds.

“Exactly! See, you’ve already got it down pat. Now, I just need you to confirm all of that with my parents, and everything will be fine. Please, I need you. If we don’t make this believable, they’ll call the authorities and I’ll go to prison. I can’t go to prison, Cynthia. I’ll never survive in there! All of those buff, angry, tattooed men. Can you imagine what they’d do to someone like me?!”

I’m so shocked by everything that comes out of his mouth that I’m not paying attention when he gets up from the bench and moves toward me. It’s not until he gently wraps his hands around my upper arms that I shake myself awake and jerk out of his hold.

“YOU DESERVE TO BE IN PRISON AFTER WHAT YOU DID! HAVE FUN WITH THAT. DON’T DROP THE SOAP. GOOD LUCK NOT BEING SOMEONE’S BITCH. MAYBE A FEW PRISON TATTS ON YOUR FACE WILL MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE LESS OF A SPINELESS ASSHOLE WHO FUCKED OVER HIS WHOLE FAMILY!” I scream at him, my body vibrating with anger.