Ruthless Monarch

It makes no difference, though. What’s done is done.

“What about you? Do you have a restaurant your parents ever took you to?”

“You mean other than making me stay home with the nanny?”

As soon as the words slip out of her mouth her shoulders tighten.

The nanny.

The family her father is still paying even now, years later.

What happened to her?

Why are they paying her off?

This is one more thing I need to get to the bottom of. This can be something I can use against the governor.

Maybe when she gets more comfortable, she will open up. Or maybe now that her phone is tapped, when she calls her father to talk about her mission, she will mention it.

Fuck, that will make my life so much easier.

“After we’re done eating lunch, what do you want to do?” I ask, changing the topic.

The haunted look that is in her eyes fades away.

“I get to pick?”

“Well, I picked lunch.”

“And you did such a great job. I’m not sure I can do much better.”

“You don’t have to do much better, you only have to tell me what will make you happy.”

She cocks her head.

Still unsure.

“Viviana, we started on the wrong foot. Yes, I’m a dick. I’m controlling too. But we don’t have to hate each other. We made a promise for forever. Forever is a long time.”

She mulls over my words but eventually nods her head.

“I want to go ice-skating.”

“Is there a rink even open? It’s not cold yet.”

“Yes.”

Her direct and forceful response has me laughing.

“Fine. I’ll take you.”

“Can you skate?” she asks.

“Yes. Can you?”

“No,” she admits on a sigh.

“Then why do you want to go skating so bad?”

“Because my parents never let me. I told myself when I was older, I would go by myself when I finally moved into the city, but between school and everything, I never found time.”

“So you’re telling me in four years of living in the city you never went ice-skating?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, I guess I know the plans for later today. And here I thought we would wind up at Saks or Bergdorf to buy you a new wardrobe.”

“Nope. I’m not much of a shopper.”

I stare at her, transfixed by what she says. “You constantly surprise me.”

“What do you mean?” Her nose wrinkles.

“You really aren’t like most women I know.”

“Stop generalizing then.”

I smile. “Touché.”

“Anyway, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It’s a good thing. A very good thing.” The truth is, that’s one of the things I begrudgingly like most about her. I like that she’s not like anyone else.

It’s going to fucking suck if I ever have to kill her.

I remind myself that she made a deal with her father to sell me out. No matter how cute she looks smiling at me about ice-skating, it doesn’t matter. I need to always remember this is just a game, and she is merely the pawn.

I decide not to take her ice-skating, but I won’t tell her now. Instead, I decided to tell her we have other plans. That we should spend the day doing other things, and that ice-skating will be the last.

I’m lying.

Normally, I don’t lie.

But seeing as she agreed to sell me out to her father, there is no harm.

I walk us to Fifth Avenue. Viviana growing up, lacked for nothing, so I expect her to look at the stores, but she doesn’t even glance. It’s very refreshing that she doesn’t seem to care very much.

In another life, I could see myself enjoying my time with her. In another life, she would make the perfect wife.

But this life isn’t ours to have.

We walk all the way down Fifth Avenue until we reach the New York City Library.

This is what she gets excited about. Not the designer stores. No, Viviana gets excited about the library.

If only I had a bigger library in my house. Mine is small and unkept. I have a few books for the kids who come over who are my family members. Nothing crazy, but still, I will give her access to it after we return from the city.

It will give her something to do.

Plus, it might be my way to get her to trust me more.

I’m sure that reading the fairy tales she loves will make her more open to suggestions.

I think back to the book I found her reading in my old room, and I have to refrain from laughing. When she alluded that I was the beast in the story, she couldn’t have been any further from the truth.

If this was a fairy tale, I would not be the beast.

Although I do have some redeemable qualities, none of them are aimed toward her. If anything, I’m Gaston.

The villain.

And in this fairy tale, there are no heroes.

14

Viviana

* * *

I’m officially having the best time, which is not something I would’ve thought I would be saying today. It’s certainly not something I thought I’d be saying a week ago. Or two, at that. This is all unchartered territory. Feeling welcome, and interesting, and like I matter. As we step into the New York City Library, my senses go into overdrive. The smell that permeates through the air: old books. It’s heaven.