Page 6 of A Princess, Stolen (A Kiss of Revenge, Blood, and Love #1)
O ur driver picked Delilah and me up in the early evening and, together with my bodyguards, drove us to my birthday party.
For Dad’s sake, I had agreed to celebrate at the Pretoria Hotel because, in his opinion, the Pretoria was the luxury hotel in New York.
Anyone who could afford the Grand Ballroom was definitely part of elite high society.
Stunned, I stopped at the entrance and looked around the ballroom.
Once again, I felt like I was in a fairy-tale castle.
The Grand Ballroom had a vaulted ceiling and a baroque colonnade that framed the interior.
Magnificently set tables with golden chairs crowded both sides with the open middle as the dance floor, and at the end was a raised stage.
New York’s hottest band, The Marquise, would play.
None of it, neither the violinist playing Mozart in one corner nor the opulent feather decorations on the individual tables impressed me.
No, it was the thousands of white rose flower heads hanging from the ceiling on gossamer threads, creating the illusion of floating snowflakes.
Shimmering strings of pearls dangled between them, scattering the bluish light from the ceiling spotlights.
“Like rose snow,” I whispered, spellbound, and suddenly I felt rather ungrateful that I had initially resisted this celebration. It was so important to Dad to show me his love in this way. Suddenly, I was infinitely happy that I had chosen Belle .
“Willa, there you are, at last! Almost late for your own celebration!” Dad approached from the right-hand colonnade with his arms outstretched, beaming.
He was a George Clooney type, charismatic and authoritative.
He also laughed a lot, which was why a pleasant ring of wrinkles had formed around his eyes over the years.
As always, on special occasions, he was wearing his tailored suit from Dormeuil, a luxury brand usually reserved for kings or presidents.
Estimated value: ninety-five thousand dollars.
Dad, however, wore it with his own elegance without seeming arrogant.
He hugged me tightly while Delilah and my bodyguards remained discreetly in the background. “Happy birthday, Willa Rae. May life never tear us apart,” he said so softly only I could hear.
When he let go of me, I looked at him. I knew the true meaning of his words.
The press called my dad a god and a benefactor , but I assumed that a god had the power to determine his own fate.
Dad, on the other hand, had been unable to influence the disasters in his life.
Unfortunately, his parents’ tragic traffic accident was not the only Armageddon in my dad’s wheel of fate.
His first wife, Florentine, and his two-year-old son, Nicholas Jr., died in a fire at the Forb Hotel in Fort McMurray.
Dad had lived in Canada for a few months because of the Hampton Oil Company and both were visiting him there.
My father had been at a conference when it happened.
So, he had lost his entire family twice—and then later Mom.
His constant fear for me was understandable.
And I’m toying with the idea of going to Grandma’s alone . Dad would probably go crazy worrying in New York. Should I just write her? But Dad would be upset about any kind of contact. It would be best if I just dropped the whole thing with Grandma.
“I love you, Dad,” I said quietly and squeezed his hand.
“I love you even more.” He squeezed back. “Have you found the chocolate fountain yet?”
“I thought there was a twelve-course meal?”
“And?” Dad led me through the right-hand colonnade, at the end of which was something that looked like an oversized cake stand.
“Dad, you’re completely crazy! The chocolate fountain was a joke!”
“I had it specially made. Ten stories high, like you said. The tiers are made of real silver.” He winked at me.
“But it’s not To’ak, is it?” To’ak was my and dad’s favorite chocolate from Ecuador. Fifty grams cost three hundred dollars.
“Of course it’s To’ak! What else?” Dad wasn’t stingy. He wasn’t modest either. When asked how much he was worth, he’d say with a teasing smile: oh, fifty billion—give or take . But, despite his wealth, he never forgot what was most important in life: love and family.
He offered me his arm and I took it. “You look lovely, by the way, darling. I was hoping you’d choose that exact dress.
” I just smiled and Dad looked me over before he continued.
“I feel guilty that I couldn’t pick you up in person, but I had to clear up some misunderstandings with a unit in the Middle East. A long video conference.
How was the journey here? Was there any trouble? ”
“None at all.” I thought of the quiet ride in the limousine. “We entered through the back and came in here through the staff entrance. No press like you said.”
Dad frowned. “Nobody trying to pin a child on me, really? Nobody claiming to be my daughter or son?”
I chuckled. “No inheritance hunters, no. And nobody who called me out for eating one of our employees’ monthly salary for lunch.”
“Well…taunts are the downside of money,” Dad said with a sigh, but it didn’t sound like he truly regretted it.
For the next half hour, I nodded and smiled as I accepted personal congratulations, trying to look excited and happy for Dad’s sake even though I was uncomfortable.
Dad had invited the entire upper class. Influential judges, renowned lawyers, members of the House of Representatives, and other politicians; all with their families, of course.
As Dad was chatting briefly with Mr. Strickland, one of his company lawyers, his daughter, Penelope, came running toward me.
“Willa, you ‘Belle de Jour,’ where did you leave the Beast ?” She grinned, looking at the yellow dress and hugging me. “All the best, pretty bitch.”
“Thanks!” We both knew which of us was the bitch , so I didn’t mind the flippant words even though such verbal rudeness always shocked me a little.
Dad and I never talked like that. “You look beautiful,” I added because I knew she liked to hear it, and I meant it.
She was wearing a velvet blue cocktail dress with her long hair flowing softly around her shoulders like shimmering gold seaweed.
Her strange handbag, however, looked as if it had once been a boa constrictor.
“The dress is new, from Plazane.” Penelope beamed, which made her green eyes shine.
“And I bought the bag there too!” I didn’t say anything about the bag, but she didn’t notice because she immediately carried on talking.
“Will, you have to look at Lawrence! He’s wearing Armani and he looks amazing.
Did I tell you that he is going to be on the cover of Mister Manhattan next month?
And the New York Times wants to interview him because he’s the youngest Harvard student ever!
” Penelope started babbling, but that didn’t bother me.
Besides Delilah, she was my only friend, or at least the only one who I was certain didn’t like me simply because of Dad’s billions.
Firstly, her family had enough money of their own, and secondly, she put up with too many of my quirks.
For example, we were never alone when we met outside the house.
When we went out to eat or shopping, Dad and my bodyguards were always there, and I never visited her at home.
She had to come to me for movie nights and spa days.
Now she pulled me by the arm to a group of young people who were standing in front of the stage at the other end of the hall. I knew most of them from our parents’ countless charities, and of course, Lawrence had been there too. “We’re going to the new place on Westend Street on Wednesday.”
“What new place?” I didn’t really want to join them.
“Jesus, Willa Rae, you truly are living on the moon! The whole Upper East Side has been talking about Seven Stories for weeks!”
“I haven’t been.” But I wasn’t part of the Upper East Side either. And I didn’t go out.
Penelope shook her head disapprovingly. “I could get you a fake ID and then you could come with me.”
“Thank you, but I’m not interested. Besides, Dad wouldn’t allow it.”
“Can’t you sneak out? Just for once?” Penelope batted her eyelashes and I laughed.
“I can’t slip out without giving our doorman a sleeping pill. Besides, I don’t want to go with you anyway. Especially not with those Upper East Side snobs around.”
“Hey, you’re talking about Lawrence too!”
“Okay, I’m officially excluding Lawrence from the snobs. Still, I don’t want to go.”
Penelope stopped and raised her hands theatrically. “Don’t complain to me if you end up a wrinkled old spinster in Daddy’s tower one day and not even old sack Smith would touch you!”
I had also stopped and looked at her reproachfully. “Now I have terrible images in my head.”
Penelope grinned wickedly, downed her champagne, and immediately grabbed a new flute from the next waitress. “Pretty good stuff! Really, Willa, you and I should…”
“We shouldn’t keep the guests waiting any longer,” Dad interrupted cheerfully. He offered me his arm and I linked arms with him. “I heard Judge Warren is waiting impatiently for the first course.”
Penelope and I laughed. Judge Warren weighed over three hundred pounds.
I was also glad that Dad had saved me from Lawrence and the others, who all thought I was odd.
Nice, but odd. Stupid idiots! They were just as weird with their constant talk about hedge funds, illicit affairs, and designer shops .
Dad stopped in the middle of the dance floor. “Ladies and gentlemen!”
I pulled my arm back. People crowded around us and it grew church quiet as it always did when Dad raised his voice.