Because the paternity of Leila’s child would be revealed. There would be no hiding it forever. Yes, she was bringing it out in the open early, but the moment the story broke James would know that he was the father. He wouldn’t need a newspaper to tell him that. The big secret would be out as soon as the sun rose in New York, but she had the last piece, and with that last piece she would protect Zayn.
Because he was already broken. Because he did not need to relive those final ugly words.
“You drive a hard bargain, Sophie. I think I underestimated you. I didn’t think you had the balls to make it in this business. Apparently I was wrong.”
“I don’t really take that as a compliment. But then, I don’t really care if you compliment me. All I care about is the tape.”
“Yours. We have a deal. Now, you tell me the name of the Al-Ahmar princess’s baby daddy.”
“All right, the father of Leila Al-Ahmar’s baby is James Chatsfield.”
Colin swore. “Now that was worth the price.”
“I told you it was. I’m done talking to you now. Make sure I have the tape.” She hung up the phone and then turned, freezing when her eyes locked with a very angry dark gaze of Zayn Al-Ahmar.
Her phone slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor, the screen shattering, sending glass in every direction.
He took a step toward her, the glass crunching beneath his shoe. “What have you done?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him, to defend herself. And suddenly, as clear as anything, she knew she couldn’t. Because it was better that he thought this. If not, she would continue to be a duty to him, one that lasted into his marriage. And she really would become her mother. A woman who lingered in the background, who shaped her entire life after a man she could never have.
And on the heels of that, she realized she already had been her mother for her whole life. She had judged her mother, thought her pathetic, for staying in one place waiting for her father to come back. Sophie had done exactly the same thing, for the same man. She had simply decided to go to him instead.
But she was done with all of that. She had to ask for better for herself. She had to ask for better for Zayn.
This was part of protecting him. Removing herself from his life completely, so that neither of them would ever be tempted. So that neither of them would linger, ghosts in each other’s lives, never able to touch each other, never able to speak to each other. Never able to do anything but ache.
No, this was for the best. It was better to end it now. Better to end it forever.
“That was my boss. I told him who the father of Leila’s baby is.”
The words ripped through her like a bullet, tearing her insides apart. Twisting them, tearing them, so that nothing could ever be put back like it was.
It was what she needed to do. And she hated it. She had to lie to him, to save them both.
His expression contorted. “How did you know?”
She tried to look neutral, even while her entire world fell down around her. While her body screamed in pain. “I pay attention.”
“Why would you do this? Because I didn’t cast aside my fiancée and offer to make you a queen? Is that why? Are you punishing me because I would not make you royalty?” He growled. “And after—you vengeful shrew.”
She thrust her chin upward, trying to hold back tears, trying to look defiant. “No, that’s not it. It’s much, much simpler than that,” she said, her voice breaking. “A scandal. You promised me a scandal. And you did not deliver.”
“The hell I didn’t,” he growled, advancing on her. “I told you everything.”
“But it wasn’t the scandal I wanted. I told you, I needed to find out what happened with James Chatsfield. I needed a scandal about the Chatsfields. Well, I found it. And it isn’t personal. But I had to do this for Isabelle. I told you, from the beginning.”
He turned away from her. “You did.”
Her chest broke apart, a flood of pain roaring through her. “Zayn...”
He held up a hand. “Do not speak to me. The only purpose of keeping you here was to prevent that secret from getting out. And it is now too late. I want you out. I do not want to see you again. I will send a servant to help you collect your things, I will send a car for you and I will arrange for your flights back to New York. We will have no need to speak after this.”
And with that, he strode from the room, leaving her more alone than she had ever thought possible.
She dropped to her knees, desperately sweeping the glass from her phone screen up with her hands, not quite sure what she thought she would accomplish. There was no fixing it. There was no fixing any of this. It was broken. Broken into too many pieces to ever be reassembled. To ever be healed.
She picked up the phone, stared at the hollow place where it had been lit up, stared at everything she had broken. She hurled it across the room, and broke the rest of it. She leaned forward, her forehead touching the ground, a sob escaping her lips followed by a wrenching cry.
Finally she had wanted everything. Finally she had asked for everything.
And just as she had always feared, it was out of reach to her. Because Zayn could not choose her, Zayn could never choose her.
The bastard child of a rich man who had never wanted her would hardly ever grow up to be a princess.
She had been right all along. Fairy tales simply weren’t for girls like her.
And they never would be.
But Isabelle would be protected. In the end, she had accomplished what she had set out to do. She had brought scandal onto the Chatsfields. She had brought her friend salvation.
And in the process, she had lost her heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZAYN CALLED HIMSELF a hundred kinds of fool after Sophie left. He poured himself a drink, intent on washing away the pain in his lungs, the pain in his chest. That he feared he would not be able to.
He would have to call Leila, he would have to call his mother. He would have to warn them what was about to happen. And worse, he would have to admit his fault in it. This was his doing, as it had been when Jasmine had died. He did this, he exposed them to these sorts of things, because of who he trusted.