When Fangirls Cry (10 page)

            The words were like a punch in the gut, and the pain she felt almost caused her to double over. She could feel the baby inside her moving urgently, as if reacting to her discomfort. She held her stomach protectively, willing her baby to calm down.
It’s okay, baby, it’s okay…we’ll fix this. Mommy…will do everything to fix this.

           
With trembling fingers, she reached for her purse and took out two things that had Chloe raising her brow: a pen and a checkbook.

            “State your price, Ms. Gustav,” she said tonelessly. “Whatever it is that you need from Staffan – I’ll give it to you. Just please don’t bother him again. I know…I know I’ve hurt him, too, but---” Saffi looked away, unable to bear seeing Chloe’s face as she admitted a painful fact. “---it doesn’t mean that you can have him back. It only means neither of us---” Saffi’s voice caught. Her fingers tightened around the pen as she forced herself to say the words. “It only means neither of us deserves him.”

@Aehrenthal_fanatics Staffan Aehrenthal is a WIMP with a LIMP DICK.

Twitter: GossipXRag

            “Do you see it, Staffan?” Yanna’s stressed voice came through clearly, and he didn’t need to look at the iPad’s screen to know that Yanna was probably crying now.

I’m so sorry. All the negative write-ups about Staffan Aehrenthal are my fault. Please believe me when I say there is nothing going on between me and Prince Jeremy Al-Atassi. I am in love and will always be in love with my husband.

            The words changed, but the restrained note of intense hurt remained the same. It was Saffi, basically groveling for people’s understanding as his fans rained torrents of abuse towards her on the Internet.

            “Constantijin told me not to meddle, but I just…I just don’t believe that Saffi cheated on you, Staffan. She loves you so much.”

            He pressed a button to lock the screen of his iPhone, closing his eyes in an effort to will away the words of apology that Saffi had typed in response to his bashers.

Please don’t speak of Staffan Aehrenthal that way. He’s not a fool and he won’t ever be so. His only mistake was not to realize how foolish I could be. But I love him.

No one can ever measure up to Staffan Aehrenthal in my eyes. He’s everything I could and would ever want in a husband.

            Saffi had been typing the same words over and over from the moment he had married her, and she continued to do so even after he had rejected her when she tried to seduce him in his parents’ home.

            “Just please listen to her,” Yanna begged. “Look at how she’s telling the world over and over---”

            “It’s a goddamn act, Yanna.” Staffan did his best to keep his tone even, not wanting Yanna to bear the brunt of his anger. “She’s fooled all of us and she’s fooling you still. Even if it were my baby, she still fucking lied to me and I don’t even fucking know if she’s still seeing the prince or not.”

            “She married you---”

            “Of course she married me,” he exploded. “It’s fucking campaign season and her mother’s sick. I’m a face-saving excuse, that’s all I fucking am to her!” Bitterness filled him as the words left his mouth because he knew it was true. Pearl Beaufort was just the spark that set things in motion, but at the end of the day, the cold hard facts were undeniable.

            The fucking prince had a new betrothed, her senator father was running for re-election, and they needed a way to prevent Saffi from becoming a goddamn brick around their necks and not have the family pride stomped upon again.

            Yanna bit her lip in misery, stemming the flow of words that wanted to come out of her mouth. The cold hard look on Staffan’s face told her that whatever she would say or do would be futile. “I know you won’t believe me if I defend Saffi over and over to you, Staffan – but at least listen to me when I tell you that a woman in love knows when another woman feels the same way as she does. I love Constantijin with all my heart and everything I feel for him – I see it in Saffi’s eyes…and it’s all for
you.”

            “Again, Yanna, you’re being fucking deceived. I have to go now. I’m going to meet with Chloe.” As he ended the call, Staffan did his best to forget the stricken look on Yanna’s face when she realized what he was about to do.

            The call from Chloe had been a shock, but it had not affected him in the way Staffan had thought it would. If he had to put a word to it, he was
ambivalent
about meeting her but his heart no longer felt it was being shredded at the mere thought of her. It just went to show, Staffan thought with hardening anger, how much Saffi had fucking destroyed him with her lies.

            Parking his car in one of the reserved basement slots for his family, Staffan took the private elevator to get to the café. When the doors parted, he was stunned by the first person he saw.

            Saffi.

            The way she kept rubbing her eyes was familiar, something she typically did to keep herself from crying. His heart squeezed at the sight, but Staffan told himself it was none of his fucking business if she cried or not. He shouldn’t fucking care since he had left their home this afternoon just for the sake of making Saffi think he was out to do shit.

            He deserved to hurt her. She deserved to be hurt. So if she was fucking crying now---

            Fuck.

            Staffan couldn’t believe how stupid he was. She was fucking crying because she probably knew Chloe was here – probably even spoke to her. She was just the type to confront Chloe even if she had no idea how such an encounter would turn out.

            Was she thinking he would be two-timing her just as she did him?

            He shouldn’t care if she did. She fucking deserved to be labeled a fool the way he had been labeled one ever since the news of her pregnancy broke out.

            Staffan was still telling himself that when he finally reached Chloe’s table. As he slid into the seat across her, he realized with unconcealed shock that Chloe looked old, and it was not because she was years older than him.

            It was the jaded look in her eyes, the cynical twist to her lips as she smiled at him. All of those things, he acknowledged uneasily, applied to him as well.

            “And so,” she said with a soft mocking laugh, “we meet again, my love.” Chloe had hoped to disconcert Staffan but instead, he only responded with a smile so unaffected, it made her blink.

            Staffan said just as softly, “Today’s circumstances are better than the last time we met, certainly.” Before she could speak, he told her blandly, “I know why you asked to meet me.”

            She stiffened but did her best to brazen it out even as her heart pounded with fear. “Of course you do, my love. I’m single and you could be single, too---”

            “You are currently one million dollars in debt.”

            Chloe’s mouth closed, her eyes flashing with humiliated fury at the realization that Staffan Aehrenthal did know of her predicament – he probably knew every shitty detail about it. “And so you agreed to this meeting just to turn me down in person?” Chloe was snarling, but inside, the fear of imprisonment was making her feel faint. She could not – would not – survive behind bars. She would probably kill herself before that happened.

            The sight of Staffan shaking his head confused her.

            “Then what?” she demanded.

            Staffan slowly leaned back against his chair. “I want to see you beg, Chloe. I want to hear you beg for your life the way I begged you in the past.”

            Chloe whitened at his words. She remembered the cruel way she had left him, remembered how she had gloried in the way he was suffering because he loved her so much. It had fed her ego back then, made her believe that she was worth so much more than being engaged to a rags-to-riches heir.

            Looking at Staffan, she knew that he could and would extract a much more punishing revenge from her now. Then, he was just begging Chloe for her love. Now, she would need to beg him for her life.

            Shame and pride made her react spontaneously. Chloe grabbed the glass of water on the table and threw the contents at Staffan. “Fuck off!” She knew the moment she did it, there was no turning back.

            She was over. Her life was over.

            Chloe started to shake. “I’m s-sorry.”

            She had expected Staffan to fly into a rage at what she had done. The old Staffan she knew would have. But this one was…different. He was much colder, harder, a smirk playing on his lips as he calmly took out a handkerchief to wipe the water from his face.

            “That was the wrong thing to do, Chloe,” he murmured as he set the handkerchief on the table. “I only wanted to hear you grovel but now…” Staffan came to his feet gracefully, and suddenly it struck her – the sheer beauty of him, the rawness of his sexuality – Staffan Aehrenthal was still the most intensely beautiful man she had ever met, and he had loved her.

            Staffan had loved her, and she had thrown it back at his face because she had loved herself more.

            “Have a good life behind bars.”

            As he turned, terror enveloped her body and she cried out, “Wait.”

            Staffan stilled, but he didn’t turn, wouldn’t perform even the smallest compromise to make it easy for her. And in the deepest part of her, Chloe knew she couldn’t blame him. “I’ll fucking beg.” Every word was forced out of her. She hated the way her voice shook, hated the way her entire body shook, but Chloe couldn’t stop it.

            A million dollars in debt…

            And it was all because she had tried to buy happiness by gambling.

            “Do you want me on my knees?”

            Staffan finally turned to her. His beautiful face was completely expressionless, and his voice was was just as bland as he said politely, “If you wish.”

            “I don’t fucking wish.” The words came out a furious scream, and she knew with those words she had already lost every bit of her pride and self-respect. With that scream, it was as if she was begging every patron inside the restaurant, every fucking waiter, to witness her humiliation.

            Here lay Chloe Gustav, once a famous actress, now a bankrupt has-been forced to beg the one man who had loved the real her.

            The words burst out of nowhere, strangely melodic and very much like an epitaph. It sapped her energy, and she found herself falling on her knees, completely defeated. “I’m begging you. Lend me the money – please.” Her eyes closed as tears trickled down her face, probably the first tears she had shed in years that weren’t contrived at all.

            Silence answered her. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a check for two million dollars thrown in front of her.

            The sobs came fast and furious, and the memories she had fought so hard to bury broke free. She had been Staffan’s surrogate older sister when they were kids. When they grew up, she had been his first lover, his first
everything
. He had loved her more than life itself, but his love hadn’t been able to satisfy the gnawing need in her to be one of
them.

            Girls like Sapphire March, who had been born with everything.

            Only now – only when it was too late – did Chloe finally understand that she could never be like Sapphire March. And it wasn’t because Chloe couldn’t be as beautiful, as rich, or as sophisticated. Girls like Sapphire had the kind of innocence that couldn’t ever be tainted. She used to have that – but she had lost it by turning her back on Staffan.

            “Staffan, wait!”

            He stiffened at the sound of Chloe’s voice behind him. Seeing her had left a vile taste in his mouth. She reminded him of how fucking foolish he had been with her. It was like rubbing salt in an old wound. It became apparent that even though he was over thirty years old now, Staffan could still play the fool because of a woman.

            “Staffan---”

            He turned to her wearily. “I don’t want to have any fucking thing to do with you anymore. Consider that check as my way of saying thank you when you and your mother helped me when I was a child. But after this, I’d rather forget you even fucking existed.”