Chapter 78: My Dark Prince: Chapter 77

They ambushed me.

Of course, they did. Respecting my boundaries would require acknowledging they existed, and that would require acknowledging I existed, which they only seemed to do when they wanted something from me.

If they wanted a rise from me, they wouldn’t get it. Briar Rose’s knees would buckle. Mine, however, locked right up. I tipped my chin up, staring down at Jason as he rose beside Philomena. While Felix and Agnes had aged with grace, time hadn’t been kind to my so-called parents.

Roads of wrinkles formed a weathered map on Jason’s face. His hair, once dark, streaked with silver. Philomena’s eyes, cold and calculated as ever, peered out from beneath drooping lids, assessing the proximity between me and Oliver.

“Darling.” Philomena recovered first, marching to me and flinging her arms over my shoulders. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other.” She reeked of desperation and Chanel No.5, a scent I once craved but could now barely stomach.

“Funny how that works.” I kept my arms at my sides, stepping back from her embrace, careful to keep my voice too low for Ollie’s parents to hear. “Who knew that abandoning a child would mean abandoning a child? Revolutionary, right?”

Philomena accepted my words in stride, returning to her seat with her fake designer purse clutched over her chest like a shield. “It’s so good to see you, Briar Rose.”

Jason patted my shoulder, as if I were an old golf friend. “Sweetheart, you look good.”

“Hmm. You’ve aged poorly.” I mock-frowned, no longer scared of his ruthless gazes and sharp tongue. “Not getting tangled in legal troubles and bankruptcy does wonders to the skin. You should really try it.”

“Sorry, honey.” Agnes von Bismarck rose with the grace of a seasoned royal and hugged me. “When the Auers called and said they wanted to surprise you with a mini engagement party, we simply couldn’t deny them.” She pulled back to tap the tip of my nose. “You get more and more beautiful each time I see you, my Love Bug.”

She used to call me that after she’d heard Oliver’s nickname for me. I would sit in her kitchen as she sorted through art catalogs, teaching me the history of each piece she considered collecting, and wonder if that was what it felt like to be loved by a mother. Like being wrapped in a quiet, unbreakable promise.

Oliver kissed her cheek, his fingers still laced with mine. “And what a surprise it is, Mother.”

It dawned on me that, since we’d arrived, he hadn’t once let go of me. Like an anchor, keeping me up on my feet. I didn’t need it, but I appreciated it all the same. It shocked me that I didn’t stutter. Didn’t cry, beg, or wallow. I’d grown up. I’d found worth in myself and accepted that my parents’ rejection meant nothing.

Felix trailed behind his wife, engulfing me in a bear hug that required Oliver to reluctantly let me go. “Briar Rose, it is a pleasure to finally meet you again.”

“Oh, it’s just Briar now.” Philomena tittered into her champagne flute. “She changed her name.”

The audacity this woman had to pretend to know things about me. To care. I’d laugh, but I didn’t want Felix and Agnes to think less of me.

I drew back from Felix, studying his face. Whereas his wife remained youthful, her hair yellow as the sun, Felix’s eye sockets had hollowed into two dark craters. His mouth locked into a permanent downturn, like he spent most of his time depressed.

The pieces clicked into place. This man – still grieving the loss of a son alive – no longer belonged in a boardroom. No wonder he’d stepped down as CEO sooner than planned. But with Oliver’s reputation, he couldn’t officially retire. Not before Ollie commanded the respect he deserved.

And Oliver, eager to atone for his sin, shouldered all the responsibility himself. The company. Sebastian’s health. It made sense. I didn’t like it, but I understood it. Some people carry the weight of their mistakes longer than anyone asks them to.

“Briar.” Felix smiled, almost shyly. “Sorry. I’m out of the loop. Haven’t been myself recently.”

“You’re okay.” I squeezed his arm, glancing between him and Agnes – and only him and Agnes. “I’m so happy to see the two of you again.”

“Honey.” Philomena planted her hand on my shoulder. “We need to discuss the seating arrangements. Are you thinking something big or small? Probably big. Daddy and I have a lot of friends …”

It took everything in my power not to recoil. Not because she rattled me, but because the woman had her acrylic claws wedged deep into my skin. She ushered me away from Agnes and Felix. Ollie’s eyes tracked our movements, narrowing in on where her nails left little dents in my cardigan. I shook my head to let him know I’d handle this myself.

The second we separated from the group, I jerked my shoulder away from the woman who gave birth to me and crossed my arms.

“Mother.” I dripped sarcasm, refusing to play along with her. “No one said you’d be invited, let alone your friends.”

“Please, Briar.” Philomena dropped the cheesy act with an obnoxious snort, her voice still low in case anyone entered ear shot. “Stop with this charade. You’re our daughter.”

“Yours, maybe. Even that is up for debate.” I stopped in the corridor, just shy of the dining hall. “Though Jason isn’t.”

The blood drained from her face. Nearby, a dozen servers fussed over table placements, rearranging fine china, tulips, and candles, oblivious to Philomena’s impending heart attack.

Agnes, Felix, Oliver, and Jason joined us just then, piling into the room.

“The starters are almost served.” Agnes claimed the seat at the head of the table, opposite her husband. “Please join us inside.”

Philomena and I stayed in the hallway, nodding with fake smiles plastered on our faces. We waited for everyone to huddle into the dining room before she returned her attention to me.

“What are you talking about?” she hissed, baring her teeth.

“I heard you that night at the ball.” I folded my arms. “Your conversation with Cooper. Jason isn’t my dad.”

“He is in all the ways that matter. He gave you everything. Always treated you as if you’re his—”

“Did he, though? If this is all he’s capable of as a father, I’m glad I’m an only child.”

“What is wrong with you?” Tears glazed her eyeballs. She would never let them fall. Ruining her perfect makeup just for me was beneath her. “We paid your way through life until you turned eighteen.”

“You dropped me like a hot potato as soon as I celebrated my birthday,” I countered. “And not everything is about money. You literally left me in Switzerland and moved away.”

“It was a reputable school.”

“You never once called.”

“Yes, well, you did enough calling for both of us.”

I shook my head, exasperated. “You are not invited to the wedding.”

“Let’s not be hasty here.” She raised her hands up in surrender. “We made a mistake. But we’d like to reconnect. How can we do it?”

“You can’t.” As if I’d ever let them dip their toes into Oliver’s world – his wealth, his status, his parents. Everything that came with this fake wedding. “But it would be nice if you told me who Cooper is and where I can find him.”

Not that I would, necessarily. But I liked the idea of having the option.

Philomena rocked back on her heels, gnawing on her inner cheek. “This is not a conversation for right now.”

I threw my head back and laughed. It must’ve looked like we were sharing a lovely exchange. “You have no right to decide where and when I speak to you. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need to ask for permission to broach a subject. Either answer me and I’ll consider inviting you to my wedding, or don’t and bear the consequences.”

I was a woman of my word. Sure, I’d invite her if she fessed up. And place her at a table with Oliver’s accountants, far away from us. Worse still, I’d pair them with Dallas and Farrow, whom I knew would taunt them to oblivion and back.

Philomena opened her mouth, no doubt armed with a snarky response, but Oliver stuck his head from the dining room.

“Sweetheart?” He offered me his palm. “My father would like to make a toast, and frankly, I miss you too much to share you with the Wicked Witch of the West.”

Philomena gasped but didn’t confront him. He was way above her station. She needed to worm her way back into his good graces.

I beamed at my fake fiancé, accepting his hand. “Of course.”

For the first time in my life, I left my mother behind and not vice versa.