The Billionaire Prince’s Fake Girlfriend by Leslie North
18
Ben took the Lexus he’d hired to Jess’s flat in Manchester, one that the GPS assured him was his half-sister’s residence. His emotions were all over the place: excited, nervous. Even after all his vitriol, he wished, absurdly, that Jane was with him. Despite her betrayal, they’d gotten so close in the past month or so, he found himself relying on her. He hadn’t realized how close they’d grown until it was too late. She supported him emotionally when he was frustrated and exhausted by the search; her boundless enthusiasm, impish humor, and creative intelligence buoyed him.
But when she’d made the ultimate unexpected breakthrough, she’d kept the truth from him, he reminded himself as he parked the car. The one thing he’d asked her not to do, the one thing she’d promised not to do... and she’d lied to him, essentially. Between his father’s initial betrayal, his mother’s subsequent cover-up, and then Jane’s lie of omission, he just felt... bruised. Beyond angry.
But despite all these setbacks, he was finally on the cusp of righting the wrongs of his father’s infidelity. He was going to finally reveal the truth, and neither his family nor Jane were going to stop him.
He took a deep breath as he headed up the stairs to the front door of the flat. It was a nice place—maybe not up to royal standards, but at least she wasn’t in squalor. His parents’ hush money helped with that, at least, he thought bitterly. He knocked, feeling his heart rate race as he waited.
A woman opened the door. “Yes?”
His jaw dropped a little. The similarities between her face and his were staggering—same dark curls, same dark brown eyes. His sister was shorter than he was, but she had the same strong jaw, same coloring.
“Jess?” he croaked, then cleared his throat.
Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “Yes?” she repeated, more cautiously this time.
“I’m Ben Georges Moreau,” he said, then took a deep breath. “The Crown Prince of Reinia.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, sounding bewildered. “But... won’t you come in?”
He followed her inside. He’d planned what he’d say on the drive here, but now in the face of actually confronting her, he found himself at a loss. He glanced around her flat. It was comfortable, homey, he noticed, with pictures of her and a very attractive older woman. They were obviously close, from the way they grinned and hugged each other. There was a picture of a university graduation, and the older woman grinned at Jess with unreserved pride. It had to be Jess’s mother—the woman his father had cheated with. It had to be.
“Can I offer you anything?” Jess said, her voice shaking slightly. “Cup of tea?”
“Not right now,” Ben said immediately. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I am here.”
“I am curious,” Jess said, with a wry grin that immediately reminded him of Jane.
He cleared his throat, determined to press forward. “Is it all right if I sit?”
“Please.”
He sat on her sofa, which was just as comfortable as it looked. “It might be best if you sit, as well,” he said, knowing that what he’d say would come as a shock.
She still looked puzzled, but sat in an armchair opposite, waiting patiently.
He sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it,” he blurted out. “Your mother and my father had an affair, years ago. When they were both married to other people,” he clarified. “That resulted in a child, one that was kept secret all these years. That child was you.”
Jess studied him carefully, but said nothing. He wondered if she was in shock.
“I only discovered this recently,” he said, his tone turning apologetic, if somewhat strident. “If I had known, there’s no way I would have let it stand.”
She blinked. “But...”
“There is no excuse for it,” Ben said passionately. “They lied, first to their spouses, to their families... to the rest of the world. You were denied your birth right because they wanted to keep a scandal a secret. I don’t care what it means for my position in the monarchy, or what kind of fallout results. It’s not fair, and it’s not right, and I am not going to allow it.”
“What, exactly, do you mean?” Jess asked warily.
“I plan on holding a press conference,” he said. “I think we’ll probably let the royal ministers know first, since this might affect things like the line of succession, and it will no doubt create a media frenzy for my parents. But you need to be recognized. Whether they’re all right with it or not, I am ensuring that your heritage is released.”
Her jaw dropped. “You what?”
“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I know, it will probably be overwhelming at first. But you deserve to have all the benefits of being royal, because you are royal. It is a crime that you’ve been hidden away, like some kind of dark secret. I promise you, I am righting this wrong now.”
Jess stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Like hell you are!”
Now it was his turn to be shocked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know my real parentage, thank you very much,” she said, her voice tart as citric acid. “I’ve known for years.”
He goggled. “So why didn’t you come forward?” he asked, baffled. “I saw that my family paid you regularly. Were those bribes? Were you being coerced?” His blood went cold at the implications. “Threatened?”
“God, no.” Her expression was disgusted. “You don’t know anything about your father, or for that matter my mother, do you?”
He stiffened. “I know that they had an adulterous affair.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, they did,” she replied. “My mother had married in London around the same time your parents did, to a man she loved very much. The man she told me was my father. The thing is, he died in a car accident soon after that. She was wild with grief, and fled to Reinia in an attempt to escape everything. She was still friends with your—our—father, and he comforted her, but seeing him, when she had all those other emotions roiling through her… they let things go too far.”
Ben gritted his teeth. “And that’s an excuse?”
She tilted her head, studying him with a sharp wryness. “It must be nice,” she mused. “Being perfect and all.”
“What?” he said, scowling at her. “I’m hardly perfect!”
“And yet you’re judging like you are,” she said, her voice cold. “Should they have done it? No. I believe in marriage and being faithful. But I also believe in forgiveness and know that people make mistakes.”
Ben kept his mouth shut.
“The thing is, my mother was horribly depressed and completely directionless when my… when her husband died,” Jess explained. “When she found out she was pregnant with me, she had a new reason to get herself together. She had something to live for, or so she tells me.” Jess’s smile was small, a little sad. “She’s been a wonderful mother. And your father—your parents—wanted to give her the opportunity to spend time with me, rather than try to juggle a job and childcare. Your parents still help her, and me, financially, even though we don’t really need it, and they’ve made it clear that if we need anything, we’re to contact them at any time. We’ve had an amazing life, my mum and I, and I’m grateful for it.”
This was so at odds with what Ben thought that he had trouble processing. “Why didn’t your mother go public?” Ben finally asked. “Did my father force her not to? Are the payments hush money, then?”
“My grandparents, my mother’s parents, would have been horrified and disowned her. Her late husband’s parents, although they’ve passed away already, would have been traumatized to find out I wasn’t their beloved’s son’s child. And my mother knew that she’d be under the microscope of public opinion if it ever came out—something that would spill over to me. She didn’t want that for either of us.”
Ben felt a headache burning behind his eyes. “So… my parents didn’t hide you? Didn’t force you to keep the truth hidden?”
Jess looked at him like he was crazy. “I have absolutely no interest in being part of the royal family. The limelight holds no interest for me. And if the scandal is unearthed, there will be all sorts of judgmental hit pieces in the media. My mother and I would be hounded by the press for the rest of our lives. Why in the world would I want that? Why would you want to do that to me?”
Spiked tendrils of guilt and dismay threaded their way through him. “I... I just thought...” He paused, trying to regather his thoughts. “I thought that the truth is what’s best.”
“It was good to find out the truth,” she agreed. “But truth can be just as cold and brutish as a lie if misused. Truth without empathy, without compassion, is a form of punishment. And taking someone’s truth—a truth that isn’t yours to tell—and exposing it?” She shook her head. “That’s naive at best, cruel at worst. You have no right to expose me this way.”
He pulled back, appalled. “I don’t mean to.”
“Then you need to leave this alone,” Jess said, her voice firm. “Give me your word: you won’t go to anyone, and you won’t reveal this to anyone.”
He swallowed, as he realized that Jane knew the truth. “I won’t tell anyone else.”
She caught the specificity. “You’ve told someone already?”
“Just one woman,” he said. “The woman who helped me track you down, anyway.”
Jess went pale—well, paler, since her complexion was already a clear cream. “Can you guarantee her secrecy?”
“Don’t worry. She’s a kind woman,” he reassured her. “She gave me her word.”
“But do you trust her?”
Emotion flooded over him in a rush. Had this all shaken out differently, had she even asked an hour ago, he might have answered differently—lashed out bitterly about her “betrayal.” Now, seeing how badly he’d botched his interpretation of the truth, he saw Jane in a different light as well.
And saw, clearly, just how badly he’d maligned her.
“I trust Jane implicitly,” he said, as he realized he did. He knew that she wouldn’t publish the article without his permission. And she’d been more cautious, more sympathetic, than he’d been.
He’d screwed this up, so very, very badly.
“I’m so sorry, Jess,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t understand.”
Jess smiled. “You know now,” she said. “Your parents have been so supportive. I wouldn’t mind meeting them sometime. Maybe a dinner or something. But I don’t want to go any further than that. And if you ever want to meet my mum…”
Ben winced. He’d need quite a bit more time to think about that. “Perhaps one day, but in the meantime, we could get to know each other better.” He paused. “I always wanted a sibling.”
She stared at him, then gave him a lopsided smile, her eyes misty with tears. “I did, too,” she said. “Better late than never, eh?”
He chuckled, feeling emotion clog his throat. “I think,” he said, “I’ll take you up on that cup of tea.”
She went to the kitchen to get the kettle on. As she puttered away, he found himself drowning under the implications of what he’d almost done. What he had done. He’d been so up his own arse with self-righteousness, so intent on “righting wrongs,” that he’d lashed out at his family without listening to their side, and almost outed Jess into a torturous position that would have made her life hell. Not to mention how he’d hurt Jane.
All because he’d thought he was absolutely right, and that the “truth” was worth it.
Truth without empathy, without compassion, is a form of punishment.
If he was so intent on making things right, he thought, he needed to apologize. He’d already started with Jess. He needed to apologize to his mother, after their terrible row and his unfair accusations. He even needed to apologize to his father, for judging him without talking to him—or more importantly, without listening to him and finding out more. But Jane was the one person he really needed to make it up to. She’d only tried to help him, and he’d repaid her with accusations and anger. He needed to apologize to her most of all. No. He needed to grovel. He needed to make up for what he’d done.
And if he was extraordinarily lucky... maybe she’d forgive him.
And maybe… there could be more.
