Nobody should feel like murder when they’re listening to “Il est né le divin enfant.” Especially when it’s coming from a TV above a fireplace full of merrily dancing orange flames in an opulent five-bedroom suite in the middle of Paris.
And yet…
“What do you think?”
I stare at the string of akoya pearls around my half-sister Vonnie’s neck. Rage beats in my chest like an imprisoned falcon. The luster on the pearls is amazing, and the size is also good at eight millimeters each.
Those are my pearls, the ones my mom gave me last week. She was sorry she missed my ballet recital because Vonnie cut her finger—probably on purpose—and Dad insisted Mom stay home to help deal with the injury. And of course Mom can never say no to Dad.
“At least I sent Matthias,” she said as she presented me with the pearls. Like sending the butler made everything better.
Matthias seems to live his life on Mom’s behalf. He dutifully filmed my part of the recital and gave me a bouquet of red carnations. Mom said my Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker was fabulous—of course, I actually danced Swan Lake.
“Give it back,” I say to Vonnie. “That necklace is mine.”
“So? Don’t be such a greedy bitch, Lucienne. Didn’t Daddy tell you to share?” Vonnie sneers, her dark eyes flashing with envy and entitlement, then taps her fraternal twin Karl on the back of the neck, which is covered with brown, shaggy hair.
He doesn’t look up from his phone. “What Vonnie said.”
She gives me a smug smile. Even when Karl thinks he has better things to do—like texting with his friends—he’ll always be on Team Vonnie. Every time Mom and Dad want to know why Vonnie and I are fighting, Karl always says something to paint me as the bad guy. Even when his lies are nonsensical and idiotic, they buy them.
And it has emboldened Vonnie.
There’s nothing of mine she doesn’t covet. If she could, she’d filch my clothes. But even though I’m only fourteen, I’m already taller than her. Nothing of mine would fit.
“It’s stealing if you take what’s not yours without permission,” I point out. I’m tired of having to fight Vonnie and Karl for what’s mine. Although Karl doesn’t steal my jewelry, he’s taken four hundred bucks right out of my wallet. And when I brought it up with Dad, he looked at me like I was the villain.
“It isn’t that much money,” he said with a heavy sigh and a frown of sheer disapproval and disappointment. It never fails to make me feel like an outsider in my own family. “I don’t know why you have to make a fuss.”
Vonnie’s sneer grows uglier and more superior. “It’s not stealing! Daddy said it was fine!”
“Daddy isn’t the one who gave it to me! My mom did!” I shoot back. “Give it back!”
“Bitch.” Vonnie pulls the pearls to her mouth and licks them, making sure to cover them with her saliva.
“Ew, that’s gross!”
“You said you wanted them back, but you didn’t say I couldn’t lick them!”
I’ve had enough! I march toward the upper level, where the bedrooms are. The double doors to my parents’ room are slightly ajar, and I lift my hands to push them open. But voices coming from inside stop me in my tracks. One belongs to Dad, but the other one isn’t Mom’s. It’s Gwen’s.
What’s that skank doing in the master bedroom?
My father’s secretary is the worst kind of human being in the world. Her duties apparently include getting naked with him. So disgusting—I caught them at it three years ago. The saddest thing is that nobody believed me. Mom said I shouldn’t confuse dreams with reality and talk about my nightmares like they were real, because I could hurt people. It never seemed to occur to her that I wasn’t making up anything or that, as an eleven-year-old, I was too young to have disgusting dreams about Dad and Gwen rolling around bare-assed in bed.
“Why do you want to teach Lucienne how to share?” comes Gwen’s voice. “Just buy Karl and Vonnie what they want and be done with it. It isn’t like you’re poor.”
“This isn’t about the kids fighting. It’s about what happens after Olivia’s gone. Wilhelm doesn’t consider Karl or Vonnie his own,” Dad says like it’s the most unfair thing in the world.
But why would Grandpa? Karl and Vonnie are from Dad’s previous marriage.
“When Lucienne was born,” Dad says, “the old man officially made her a Peery, so as to show everyone she was his heir, but not Karl or Vonnie. Only a Peery is worthy of the Peery Diamonds fortune in that man’s eyes.” Dad’s voice seethes with resentment. “Which means if Olivia isn’t around, I’ll have to get the money through Lucienne. If I don’t teach her to be nicer, how am I going to get her to cough up anything?”
“But the laws of Nesovia are on your side. You’re her father.”
“Yes, and thank God for that.”
I bite my lip, not really following the conversation. Peery Diamonds is incorporated in Nesovia, I know that much, but I never spent much time there. I was born in L.A. during one of Mom’s vacations in SoCal, and mostly raised there.
“But things would be better if she’d never been born. Then Wilhelm wouldn’t have anybody to leave his money to other than Karl and Vonnie.”
I take an unsteady step back as a combination of shock and pain reverberates through me. I’ve always known that Dad likes Karl and Vonnie more. He was always nicer to them, more indulgent. He said I was too willful and toxic. Too tall, too wild, too…everything. Just too much.
But to learn that he wishes I’d never been born? It’s like I’m not even his child.
“Heard enough?” Vonnie’s whisper into my ear might as well be a crow cawing in victory.
I turn my head slowly to stare at her. I didn’t realize she followed me upstairs. Her dark eyes flash with glee. Tossing her long chocolate-colored hair, she gives me a smile.
“Nobody wants you here, Lucienne,” Vonnie says. “Why do you think not even Olivia wants to bother with you these days?”
The barb hits home. The recital wasn’t the only thing Mom couldn’t bother with. There’s been a string of disappointments, all because Dad, Karl or Vonnie needed her. Mom doesn’t seem to care that I’m her child and need her, too.
“Things would be so much better without you.” Vonnie smirks, running her finger along the pearl necklace still around her neck.
I want to launch myself at her and rip her face off. But I know from experience that if I do, I’ll be blamed and punished. And there’s no point in calling for Mom. She isn’t somebody I can count on.
But I can’t stay in the suite with these…assholes, either. I storm out, slamming the door behind me. If Mom hears me, she doesn’t come out. Probably has more important things to do. Like… I don’t know. Literally anything in the world.
I take the elevator to the lobby. Nobody stops me—it’s like they know I should be on my way out, since I’m not wanted here.
Tears spring to my eyes as my sneakered feet slap the wintry streets of Paris, but I blink them away. The wind slips cold fingers into my sweater and runs them along my skin, leaving goosebumps. Snow falls soundlessly, muffling the sounds of the city. Lights are everywhere, turning the crystal flakes red and green in the Christmas festivities. Somewhere a group of kids is singing carols.
Those kids all belong somewhere. They’re all wanted somewhere.
I don’t fit. The realization slides into me like a rusty nail. Mom had me because that’s what Grandfather wanted. He needed an heir he could leave Peery Diamonds to because he thinks Mom is too flighty and weak-willed to run a big corporation. He’s disappointed I’m a girl—I can see it in his gaze every time he looks at me, because girls are soft and sentimental and unfit to take on the family legacy, the all-important company. Dad and his other kids—the ones he treats like his own—only tolerate me.
I wish Bianca were here, but she’s spending Christmas with her family in the States. My best friend’s family loves her, unlike mine. They hug her, ask about the details of her life and feed her like she’s been through a famine.
I’d do anything to trade places, but… I shake myself mentally. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to make my bestie to go through what I’m going through.
I walk aimlessly along the streets, shoulders raised high. I wish I’d grabbed a coat before leaving the hotel, but I’d rather jump off a bridge than go back for one now.
Is there anyone who gives a damn about me? If I freeze to death tonight…will anyone care?
I picture Mom’s face crumbling with shock and sorrow, but then I shake off the imagery. It’s pointless, wishful thinking on my part. She’ll just get distracted as usual because Karl or Vonnie needs her. She doesn’t care that they’re only nice to her because she’s an heiress. If she hears them calling her a sucker behind her back, she doesn’t show it.
Time passes. I stop when I can’t feel my face anymore. I look around. The streetlamps are blurred like starbursts and my breath turns white in the air.
A guy says something in French near me, but I don’t even turn to look. He’s probably out here in this beautiful city with somebody who likes him. Bet he has a welcoming home to go to. A family that adores him.
Okay, no more self-pity. If people could read my mind, they’d call me entitled and spoiled. I should be grateful for what I have—the wealth of Peery Diamonds, what it represents. I have nice, expensive things most people can’t even dream of owning.
A light tap on my shoulder. “Est-ce que tu vas bien?”
I turn around and see a tall, dark-haired man standing behind me. He’s gorgeous—slightly slanted dark eyebrows over brilliant eyes, a straight nose and surprisingly full mouth that looks like it should be reciting some romantic French poem. Maybe he’s a model, I think, taking in his presence, his black cashmere coat. He most definitely has somewhere to go, people who are waiting for him.
Suddenly, I feel shabby and small. And I don’t want his pity or sympathy. I want to cling to what little pride I have left, since I don’t have anything else.
“I don’t speak French,” I lie. I try to say it in my most unfriendly, leave-me-alone tone, but I can’t hide the shakiness or the chattering of my teeth now that I’ve opened my mouth. I clench my jaw shut.
“Are you American?” he says in perfect English, his voice a low baritone that reminds me of caramel.
“Yeah. So?”
“Where are your parents?” He looks around.
I don’t want to think about my parents. Another gust of wind cuts through me. Uncontrollable shivers rack my body.
“You’re freezing.” He shrugs out of his coat and wraps it around my shoulders. The heat from the cashmere is like a warm bath, sending little shocks through my system as my body begins to thaw. The garment is long enough to shield me from neck to ankles, and I realize how harshly the winter wind has been clawing at me. “I don’t need your coat.” As soon as the words slip out, I wince at how bratty I sound.
“Your teeth disagree.” A corner of his lips quirks a little.
Okay, so he heard my teeth chatter. I should probably shrug his coat off, but my shoulders refuse to move. My whole body is reveling in its warmth and its soft, clean smell of soap and pine. “Aren’t you cold?”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a dark sweater and slacks, probably made of wool. The wind ruffles his hair, and he runs his fingers through it, easily putting it back in place.
If I were just a normal kid, I might be overcome with gratitude. But people are never nice to me just because. Maybe he’s a model who needs work. Or maybe he expects some money from my family for helping me. He wouldn’t be the first.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask stiffly.
He looks amused. “No. Should I?”
“Why are you being so nice to me, then?”
“Because you’re obviously cold.”
“So you’ve decided to give up your coat and be cold instead?”
“I’m warm enough.” He smiles charmingly.
It doesn’t make me feel better. It only reminds me of how easily Dad charms Mom, making her swoon and call him her “prince.”
So gross.
It’s wrong to be upset with this stranger for being nice, but the bitterness that’s been accumulating in my heart won’t shut up. “That makes you stupid, not charming,” I spit out, expecting a fight.
He laughs. “Well. I guess I’ll be stupid, then.”
Suddenly, all my resentment and anger drain away, replaced by shame. I’m just being bitchy when he’s been nothing but sweet. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not having a good day, but I shouldn’t be rude to you.”
“Apology accepted,” he says lightly. “So… You lost? Need help finding your parents or something?”
He wants to take me back to my parents, like a responsible adult. But I don’t want to go back. Not right now. Maybe not ever. “I’m just out for a walk.”
“A walk, huh?” A skeptical eyebrow jumps up.
Of course, nobody goes out for a walk in nothing but a light shirt, jeans and sneakers in the snow. But I’m not going to explain.
There’s a pause while we stand there in the snowfall. Finally he says, “Okay, well… Are you done with your walk?”
“Actually, I just want something warm to drink.” That’s better than admitting I have no place to go back to. Or at least no place that’ll welcome me.
“Fine.”
I expect him to take his coat and go on his way, but he puts a hand on my back and escorts me down the street like a gentleman. When we start to approach a brightly lit hotel, I slow down.
“Um…” I say, suddenly unsure about following him. All sorts of awful crime headlines flash through my mind.
“What?” He laughs softly. “You said you wanted something warm to drink. The hotel will have something. There’s a bar and café in the lobby.”
Sure enough, the hotel’s huge first-floor windows show people inside, waving their drinks around and laughing. Even in the cold, my cheeks start to heat with embarrassment.
We step inside, and he takes me to a booth in a quiet corner of the lobby away from the boisterous crowd. He speaks to a uniformed clerk in French and returns to me. “They’ll bring out some hot chocolate. That’s okay, right?”
“Yeah.”
The hot chocolate quickly appears, along with a glass of some amber liquid for him. The waitress gives Mr. Coat a flirty smile, but his smile back just seems to be polite. He seems really at ease with everything and everyone around him.
In the brighter light, I can see his eyes are an odd mixture of gold and green. Something about him reminds me of a satisfied lion after a successful hunt. I saw it on a nature special once. It’s weird that he’s being kind without expecting anything in return. People are always nice to me because they think it might get them something. My grandfather can be a generous man, and he’s really generous when it involves his flesh and blood.
But maybe this man really is being good to me just because. I don’t know what to make of it.
I take a small sip of the chocolate. The steaming, bittersweet flavor is amazing after the chill outside, and I shiver as the heat seeps through me. “You’re pretty nice for an old guy.”
He almost chokes on his drink. “I’m twenty-three.”
“Like I said.”
“Oh yeah? How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
He smirks. “Just a kid.”
I open my mouth to say I’m not just a kid, but…I am. “Yeah. A dumb kid.”
Sympathy softens his tone. “You don’t seem dumb to me. If you were, you wouldn’t be wearing my coat. Or getting me to buy you a drink.”
I laugh a little at his attempt to cheer me up. “If I were smart, I wouldn’t have been out there. If I were smart… Well, people might take me more seriously. They might love—care about me more.”
He frowns. “You break up with your boyfriend or something?”
Maybe it’s because his voice is soft and without judgment that the dam in my heart cracks. Or maybe it’s because we don’t know each other, and the anonymity lets me vent. “My dad only cares about me because of money, and my grandfather is disappointed I’m not a boy.”
“How about your mother?”
“Mom’s too busy with everything and everyone else but me.”
“Ah. So you got upset and ran.”
“Yeah.” Now I feel stupid about everything. “It’s like, maybe they’ll be happier without me.”
“Is that what you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to just run away from everything, so they’ll be happy?”
Run away from everything… I blink. What does that even mean? “Everything” would include Mom, who doesn’t love me enough to put me first, but who’s the only parent who seems to care about me at all…and my inheritance and my position as the sole heiress to the Peery Diamonds fortune…
Dad, Karl and Vonnie would love it if I vanished. They’d start drooling, dreaming up ways to divvy up all the stuff I leave behind.
It’s gross. I’d rather set everything on fire than let them have anything of mine. They aren’t worthy.
The man says, “You’re scowling. I guess that’s your answer.”
“Yeah. But they just want to use me and hurt me.” I look down at the steaming chocolate. “They just want my money.”
“More reason to stay and fight for what’s yours. If you leave, you’re surrendering. Instead, even the scales.”
“How?”
“Take away what they want the most from you. You said they want your money, so make sure they never get a penny. You’re young, so they’ll push back when you try. But keep on fighting until you win, no matter what it takes, or how long it takes. Don’t give them an inch.”
I give him a long look, wondering if he’s just saying things. “Is that what you would do? I mean, for real?”
He leans forward, glancing around like a spy. “Want to know a secret? I’m doing it right now.”
“No way! Somebody wants your money?” He doesn’t seem poor or anything, and he’s dressed in designer clothes, but…
He laughs. “My situation is a little more complicated.”
“Are you winning?”
“I’m getting there.” He smiles. “But I’ll win in the end.”
His eyes gleam with confidence. And why wouldn’t he radiate self-assurance? He’s good looking and seems smart and well off.
Meanwhile, I can’t even make my own mother believe me.
“Well, that’s great for you,” I say. “But like you said, you aren’t in my situation.”
“Don’t be so down on yourself. Look, if you don’t respect yourself enough to fight for what’s yours, everyone’ll just walk all over you. The first time asserting yourself is the hardest. But it gets easier.”
I think about that while finishing my hot chocolate. Maybe I didn’t fight that hard. Even though I was boiling over with anger, I have to admit that I’m still concerned with fitting in. With having Mom look at me like she loves me.
He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he nurses his drink. When I’m done, I stand up. “Thanks for the hot chocolate. I think I need to get back.” I start to shrug off the coat, but he puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Keep it. Let me walk to your place.”
“I know how to get there. And it’s freezing out. I don’t want you to catch cold or something.”
He nods and gestures at a uniformed concierge who’s walking by. He instructs him to bring a car. “The hotel will drive you home. I can’t let a kid like you wander around Paris at night, especially when you don’t even speak the language.”
I feel a little guilty for lying about my French. “Maybe you should take a car to your place too,” I say.
“I’m actually here to see a friend, so…”
“Oh.”
The concierge returns, saying the car’s ready.
“Thank you,” I say to the man, extending a hand.
He shakes it, his palm shockingly hot against mine, then frowns. “Your hand’s icy.”
“It’ll warm up after a hot shower. Anyway, since I’m taking the car…” I try again to give the coat back, but he waves me off.
“You’re still cold. You need it more than me.”
“But—”
He’s already walking away to the elevator bank.
The concierge clears his throat. “Mademoiselle?”
I sigh, then let him lead me to the car. I tell the driver where to go, and he navigates the slushy road expertly. I should send the coat back, I tell myself, but then I realize I have no idea what the man’s name is. I shake my head. I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself, either. He probably thinks I’m a complete brat. Ugh.
It’s too late to turn back now because I wouldn’t even know what to say. I ask the driver if he saw the man who waved me goodbye in the lobby, but no luck.
Soon I’m back in front of the hotel Mom picked out for the trip. I walk inside. The staff don’t stop me, like they know I’m a guest who has every right to be here.
I take the elevator to the top floor, where our suite is. I tighten the coat around myself like armor and keep my chin high as I step into the suite.
“What the hell is the meaning of this? You can’t even watch a child?” comes my grandfather’s irate voice from the living room. Oh, that’s right… He’s joining us for Christmas in Paris today. “And you kids! You just let her walk out?”
“We didn’t know. She snuck out behind our backs,” Vonnie says.
I walk inside, the thick carpet muffling my steps. Dad, Karl and Vonnie are standing on one side, with Mom and Grandfather on the other. Mom isn’t standing next to Grandfather to render support, but to calm him down so he doesn’t yell at Dad too much.
There isn’t even a hint of concern for my wellbeing on Dad’s face. The only thing that he’s worried about is that Grandfather is upset. Dad knows it’s Grandfather who controls the money in the family, not Mom.
Then Dad notices me. “Lucie! Where have you been? You had everyone worried sick!” he says, instantly jumping into blame-Lucienne mode. He knows Grandfather won’t yell at me the way he does at others because I’m the youngest and I’m legally a Peery.
I look at the man who basically donated sperm to make me. He has no qualms about using me to shield himself. I don’t know why I ever thought he was my dad.
“I didn’t know you were so worried, Roderick.”
He flinches in shock, his olive complexion paling a little. This is the first time I’ve ever called him by his first name.
I almost laugh. I don’t know why he’s acting so stunned. He should’ve known he couldn’t stomp all over me forever. I turn to Grandfather. “I’m sorry, but I needed to take a long walk to blow off some steam after Vonnie took my pearls and refused to give them back,” I say calmly, trying not to be whiny or pleading. Grandfather hates both equally.
His blue eyes, cool under thick platinum eyebrows, then swing to Vonnie.
Tears instantly fall down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I didn’t realize Lucienne would be that upset. I just wanted to try them on because they looked so pretty.”
“I told you not to touch my things,” I tell her with forced gentleness before Grandfather can respond.
“You should’ve told me you wanted pearls too, Vonnie. I would’ve bought some for you.” Mom walks over and runs her hand down Vonnie’s dark hair, trying to ease the tension in the room.
But is that attempt for me or for everyone else?
I look around slowly. Mom wants me to give in and bring peace. Roderick wants me to be an obedient little girl and “share” what’s mine with him and his other children. Karl is an opportunistic jerk who treats me like shit because he can, while enjoying what being my half-brother brings him. Vonnie wants anything that’s mine.
Take away what they want the most from you. Mr. Cashmere Coat’s voice rings in my head.
“Give them back,” I say to Vonnie, palm out.
Her lips tremble. God, I’m so sick of her theatrics. Poor, poor Vonnie. So persecuted by her mean little half-sister.
Grandfather watches, his expression unreadable. Mom is wringing her hands, anxiety flickering in her pale blue gaze. Roderick stays back, observing the scene, probably trying to decide how he should behave next, and Karl glowers at me like I’m being a bitch.
“Well?” I prompt when Vonnie doesn’t move.
Her gaze darts around. When nobody comes to her defense, she reluctantly undoes the clasp and hands the necklace to me.
I take it by the end—the part she didn’t run her tongue all over.
If I want to follow Mr. Coat’s advice, I need an ally. I slide my gaze to Grandfather, study his granite Nordic features—the platinum hair, arctic-blue eyes and hard mouth. What would he do if he were me?
He thinks I’m not fit for Peery Diamonds because I’m a girl—too weak and too soft. And he might be right. If somebody messed with him, he would never walk away like I did. There’s a reason Mr. Coat told me I need to stay and fight if I want to keep what’s mine—that I need to respect myself enough to fight for what’s mine.
Vonnie screwed with me, and I need to show Grandfather I’m not some soft little girl. Not if I want him to see me as his true heir, somebody he can leave the Peery fortune to. I need to act like the way a man would—a man who’s furious that somebody touched what’s his, even if the item in question isn’t that sentimental.
I throw the string of pearls into the flames of the fireplace.
Mom gasps. Vonnie shouts, “What the hell?” while Roderick and Karl stare at Grandfather, waiting for the most powerful man in the room to explode first before they join the fireworks.
“Those were nice pearls,” Grandfather says, his voice hard.
“I know,” I say, keeping my gaze steady as I look up at him. “But the necklace could be infected. Since somebody licked it all over like an animal.” My eyes slide over to Vonnie, who’s flushing. “Why should I keep something she grossified?”
“You could’ve let her have it,” Grandfather says, his tone still the same, although his eyes are gleaming with a hint of approval.
“I don’t want her to have it. Not after she disrespected me. If she wanted it that bad, she could’ve just asked nicely.”
“Lucienne.” Mom’s whine is full of embarrassment.
Roderick tsks. “It’s no big deal if your sister wants to put it on for a bit. We’ve been trying so hard to teach you to share.”
I shoot him a look filled with contempt. It’s impossible to hide how much I despise him.
“Why should she share?” Grandfather says.
There’s a sudden silence in the room. “Wha-what?” Roderick stammers.
“Why should Lucienne have to share anything if she doesn’t wish to?” Grandfather turns his attention to me. “You may go and get yourself warm,” he says, as though he hasn’t noticed a man’s coat on me.
I nod, go into my room and lock the door behind me. My heart starts racing, a delayed reaction to the scene I just took part in. The air in my lungs shudders out. If it weren’t for Mr. Coat’s encouragement, I would’ve apologized for inconveniencing everyone. Then I would’ve put up with all sorts of sly put-downs from Karl and Vonnie, all the while pretending I was fine, even as fury and resentment built up like acid.
It felt so good to lash out! And show Vonnie that nothing she takes from me is valuable enough that I’ll just accept it back with relieved gratitude. Besides, the pearls were a reminder of just how little I matter to Mom. I don’t need a present like that.
Mr. Coat was right. If I don’t respect myself, I’ll be left with nothing.
I walk to the bed, my legs still a little shaky. I shrug the coat off and hug it, burying my nose in the soft fabric, inhaling the spicy, woodsy scent. As I tighten my hold, something crinkles. I reach into the inside pocket and pull out a yellow paper. It’s a credit card slip with a name at the end: Sebastian Lasker.
So that’s who he is. I smile a little, then unplug my phone from the charger and look him up.
My smile falters when Google tells me he’s in line to inherit Sebastian Jewelry, Peery Diamonds’s rival. And when the search engine shows me photos of him with other women in short dresses, something cold and lumpy settles in my heart. Which is stupid. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything.
I toss the phone on the pillow and hug the coat again. Who cares? None of those women got his coat, I think, sinking my fingers into the soft fabric.
