Princess of Hollywood (The Glitterati Files Book 2)

by Maggie Dallen

  Jack was nothing like my father, though. He might be angry, but he would never let rage win. He would never raise a hand to someone he loved.

  And he loves me.

  The thought was a soothing balm on the searing pain in my chest.

  Tess wasn’t my sister. My father wasn’t my father.

  So, who was?

  “Of course she doesn’t know,” my father said. “And she’ll never find out because the two of you will keep your mouths shut.”

  Tess didn’t argue.

  Jack. I closed my eyes. No more secrets, Jack.

  “Why would I do that?” Jack asked.

  My head fell back against the wall in relief.

  “She deserves to know.”

  “You think she’d be happier knowing that her only parent is that lush who never took care of her a day in her life? Fine. Go on and tell her. I wouldn’t mind having one less payment a month, and I’m sure a little PR spin will help smooth over any embarrassment.”

  “That’s why you kept it a secret,” Tess finally spoke, and her voice was quiet. “You didn’t want to be humiliated when the world found out that your wife cheated on you.”

  “Of course,” he said. “It’s not exactly something I wished to be made public knowledge. By the time I figured out that she’d been cheating on me, I’d already been raising Lila as my own for years—”

  “Who is her father?” Tess asked.

  “Ah, you couldn’t figure that out, and it’s killing you, isn’t it? Just like your old man, you always want to be in the know.”

  He sounded proud.

  The meager contents of my stomach churned at that pride in his voice. The taunting edge had been replaced with pride. Because she was his daughter, and all her conniving and her spying and her traitorous secrets… it made her just like him.

  But he hadn’t answered. Did he know who my real father was?

  Did I care?

  Did I want a father who either didn’t know I existed or had left me to be raised by a cruel, powerful monster?

  My chin dipped down to my chest as I waited.

  “Don’t fret, my little Tess. I never found out, and I never planned to. Her mother had a string of lovers, I doubt even she knows who the real father is.”

  Tears stung the back of my eyes.

  My life. Daddy’s little princess. A Devereaux. The daughter of Hollywood’s king.

  My entire life was a fraud.

  “She deserves to know,” Jack said. “You and your secrets. You think you can control her, control everyone, but I’m willing to bet she’ll be happy to learn she doesn’t share your genes—”

  “Jack.” Tess’s tone held a warning that he ignored.

  “You think I don’t know how you destroyed Brandon’s life? How you pushed his father to the edge and left him and his mother alone? You think I don’t know about your affairs?”

  My father laughed as Jack’s voice grew louder, and I squeezed my eyes shut, torn between wanting to go in there and save Jack and staying exactly where I was to revel in the fact that for once, someone was standing up to my father.

  For me.

  Because he loves me.

  Right now, that was my lifeline. It was all that mattered.

  “My affairs,” Daddy repeated. “I suppose you think you’re in the know because you caught wind of the fact that Brandon’s mother and I had a fling ages ago.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter at the mention of Brandon. At the way his voice was filled with amusement.

  A cat toying with a mouse.

  “What do you think, Tess? Should we fill Jack in on the missing pieces?”

  She kept silent, and I clenched my fists in preparation.

  What had he done? What had she helped him to do?

  “Your father’s business is on its last legs, isn’t it, Jack?”

  No. No, no, no. Not his father. Jack’s father was the kindest man I’d ever met. If he got dragged into this—

  “The real estate market in your little town really is quite fascinating. Did you know that, Jack? Why, with Tess’s help, I managed to buy up quite a bit of real estate. Under different shell companies, of course.”

  “No—” he started, but Tess spoke over him, her voice louder. Stronger.

  “That’s not true.” Finally, Tess was coming back to her senses. “You didn’t buy anything,” Tess said, acid clear in her voice. “Vivien bought it all.”

  “I see you’ve done your homework. But same difference, my sweet. And thanks to you and Amber, I have a hit show on my hands with America’s favorite cowboy’s son,” Daddy said, disdain in his voice. “As for Vivien and her fortune… well, I’m sure you’re aware of how this whole marriage thing works. What’s hers is mine.”

  Not for long. Tess held her tongue, but I knew she was thinking it.

  She was too smart to reveal too much. Daddy was already too cautious about the prenup. He didn’t need to know that Vivien was working against him.

  She was our last hope. I flinched at the thought of the blonde with the vacant stare and the Minnie Mouse voice.

  She was our last hope to get out from under Daddy’s thumb? How pathetic was that?

  But no, that wasn’t quite right.

  Something inside me shifted with a jolt as the information I’d been hearing filtered through, registering more fully. Past the shock and the sadness and the throbbing pain, my brain was starting to work.

  Vivien was Tess’s last hope. Not mine.

  I opened my eyes and stared at the wood beneath my feet.

  I was out. I was free.

  Daddy’s voice cut off my lightbulb moment “Come now, Jack, you didn’t honestly think I would let some lowly farmhand come to my town and join my cast without making sure I was the one who pulled his strings, now did you?”

  Silence followed. I winced at the idea of what Jack’s face must look like now. At the horror in his eyes when he fully realized that my father had been playing him all along, just like he’d played the rest of us.

  I couldn’t bear to think of Jack’s agony when he realized that his father’s future was on the line and his own independence was at stake… because of me.

  This was my fault. Oh, I might not have done the dirty work this time, but I’d drawn Jack into this world. Into my world. I should have known Daddy would be two steps ahead. I should have known that if I’d had any taste of happiness, he would crush it.

  Jack was under his thumb now, and that I would have to fix.

  I closed my eyes, listening to my breath, to the painful silence as my father no doubt gloated over once again having the upper hand.

  “So, you see, while I admire your little Scooby Doo investigation into my finances, I’m afraid you’ve gone to a lot of trouble for nothing.” He set down his glass, and I tensed.

  He couldn’t find me out here eavesdropping or there would be hell to pay.

  I struggled to my feet and headed back toward my room, but then thought better of it.

  I didn’t want to see Jack—I had no idea what to say to him. And if he kept this from me—if he pretended that everything was all right…

  The thought alone felt like betrayal.

  But could I really expect him to choose me over his father?

  No.

  Of course not.

  And Tess.

  I shut my eyes as I hovered in front of my bedroom door.

  Tess had known. She’d known. I didn’t have to imagine betrayal, I felt it like a stab in the gut. I should have known she’d still have her secrets. How long she’d been sitting on this, I didn’t know, but no matter how long it was, it was too long.

  I heard their voices behind me and moved quickly, heading toward a side entrance and ducking behind some hedges to keep from being seen.

  Pulling out my phone, I deleted the text I’d started to Jack. I couldn’t see him right now. Jack knew, and he was going to keep it from me. I just knew it. I shut my eyes tight. Not that I could blame h
im. His father’s livelihood was hanging in the balance. His whole life was in danger and all because he’d met me.

  I stared down at my phone trying to figure out what to do next. Who I could trust.

  Brandon. I texted him quickly and told him where to meet me with his car—at the bottom of the hill by Tess’s private entrance.

  She and Jack were likely searching my room and the party if they wanted to find me. But I couldn’t see them. I needed answers, and right now, I wasn’t sure I could trust either one of them.

  I didn’t move from my spot until I heard Brandon’s ride pull up, and then I dove into his car like I was on the run from the law.

  “Hey, are you all right? What’s with the SOS?” Brandon asked as I clicked in the seatbelt.

  “Could you give me a ride to my mom’s house?”

  He was staring at me, and that was when I realized there was enough light coming from a light post along the driveway that he could see me face. Definitely the puffy eyes. Maybe a bruise.

  “Lila, are you okay? What happened?”

  “Please, Brandon.” I didn’t even try to have dignity as I pleaded with him. “I just need a ride. I’d have to cut through the house to get to my car, and I don’t really want to drive right now and—”

  “Yeah. Of course.” He was already putting the car in drive and turning his attention to the road. “Whatever you need, Lila. You know that.”

  “Thanks.” It came out as a whisper, and I was horrified to find more tears welling before I turned to look out the window.

  Brandon, thankfully, stopped with the questions. Though I knew he was probably dying to ask more, he drove the entire way in silence, letting me stew in my thoughts as I tried and failed to figure out what to do next.

  My mother had seemed like the best start. I needed answers, and clearly, she was the only one who could provide them.

  I could also probably crash there for the night, although the thought of it wasn’t exactly appealing. If her boyfriend was still away, then she’d be hammered, and if he was there, I’d be forced to deal with his prissy attitude and his snide comments.

  When we pulled up to the bungalow, most of the lights were off and her boyfriend’s car was nowhere to be seen.

  Still away then, thank God. I so did not need to deal with his outbursts during this conversation. I drew in a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh as I reached for the door handle.

  “Do you want me to come in?” Brandon asked.

  I turned back to see his eyes filled with concern and fixed on my neck. There’d be finger marks there, no doubt. Any other time I might have cared.

  “Stay here,” I said. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to spend any more time than necessary with my mother, especially after this conversation. Then, I belatedly added, “Please.”

  He gave me a small smile and a nod. “Whatever you need.”

  My mother barely lifted her head from the couch when I walked into the living room. A true-crime show was playing in the background, but her head was tipped back. For a second, I thought maybe she was sleeping, but then I saw the glass of wine dangling from one of her hands. A step closer and I saw the mask on her face which gave her a creepy vibe as she said, “Oh look. A surprise visit from my daughter.”

  She didn’t sound pleased. Which was fine. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be here. “I need to ask you a question.”

  My mother waved her hand as if to say ‘get on with it,’ and red wine sloshed over the rim of the glass, leaving a dark red stain on the white carpet. Her boyfriend would freak when he got home and saw that.

  One thing I could say about my mother, she definitely had a type.

  “Who’s my real father?” I asked.

  The silence that followed was filled with suspenseful music that only added to my tension as I waited.

  And waited.

  Finally, I moved closer so I could see her eyes and the rest of her frozen face.

  She glared up at me. “Who told?”

  “Does it matter?” I shot back.

  Her sigh said no, and then she finally moved, sitting up and splashing even more red liquid. “Does your father know that you know?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Don’t tell him. He’ll stop the payments.”

  Of course that was her first concern. If she noticed the red eyes or the bruises on my cheek and neck, she didn’t mention them.

  All the better, really. I wasn’t in a chatty mood. “I won’t tell.”

  She nodded, finally setting down the wine glass and then looking up at me with arched brows that cracked the mold of her mask. “What did you want to know? Who the real father is?”

  “Yes.”

  My mother eyed me oddly. “Doesn’t change anything. Your read dad didn’t know any more than Grayson did.”

  I stared at her as my father’s voice came back to me. She likely doesn’t even know herself. “But you know.”

  My mother smirked. “Of course I know. Even fancied myself in love for a little while there.”

  “But you were married to Daddy.” She arched a mocking brow, and I cursed under my breath as I caught my mistake. “You were married to Grayson.”

  “Mmm, but Grayson was a bastard. Maybe even more so back then. All about work and money and ambition and the next hit show. Your real father… he was a class act. He was married too, you know, but at least he had the decency to feel guilty for sneaking out on his wife. He even offered to leave her for me.”

  “Who was he?”

  My mother leaned back and eyed me. She was having fun with this.

  The witch.

  “He doesn’t know about me?” I asked. This felt like the most crucial part of all. If there was a man out there who knew he was my father and never cared enough to claim me…

  But then again, if he never knew, maybe I could find him. Maybe he’d be happy to meet me.

  She looked away. “I thought about telling him, but he beat me to it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He came to me one day and said he had to end it. His wife was pregnant. So…” She waved a hand. “I let him go.”

  Rage filled me so fast I had to clench my fists to keep from striking out. She let him go. For both of us. As if that was her right. She’d stuck me with a monster and let me believe that he was my real father, and all so she could get an extra payday.

  “Who is he?” I asked again.

  Her gaze shot up to mine, and she laughed. “Oh, honey, haven’t you guessed?” She reached for her wine glass, still cackling. “You really are your mother’s daughter.”

  Fourteen

  Brandon

  I couldn’t take much more of this. Lila hadn’t been in there for long, but the wait was excruciating, especially because Jack was blowing up my phone the entire time asking if I’d seen Lila and where I’d gone off to.

  Eventually, I’d caved. I had no idea what had gone down back at Casa Devereaux, but I knew those bruises weren’t Jack’s doing, and I had no doubt he was going out of his mind with worry.

  Heck, I was going out of my mind with worry and she wasn’t the love of my life.

  But she was one of my best friends. One of my only friends.

  “Lila, you need to talk to me,” I said as I pulled up in front of my house. More than an hour we’d been in the car together, and she hadn’t said a word.

  I could respect that. I understood the need to process, the need for some silence. But someone had manhandled her. Someone had made her cry.

  And while I knew Lila wasn’t as cold and tough as she pretended to be… she wasn’t the type to cry either. Not over just anything, and not enough to look like this. Like her world had been ripped apart.

  I leaned over to undo her seatbelt when she didn’t move. The gesture seemed to wake her from her daze. “What did you say?”

  Her voice was like sandpaper.

  I reached out and tucked a strand of pale blonde hair out of her face. “Talk to me. Please.”
<
br />   She looked at me for a long while, but it took a few moments before she actually saw me. When she did, she blinked once and then nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go inside.”

  I’d be the first to admit it. My place was a bachelor pad. A fact neither me nor Jack typically had a problem with… until right this minute. “Um, do you need some… water or… water?”

  She stared up at me from her spot on my couch. The place had been sparsely furnished when they’d handed it over to me, and I hadn’t bothered to add anything new, so it was just the couch in this room.

  Well, the couch and a big-screen TV. I wasn’t a total heathen.

  “Water would be nice,” she said.

  I nodded and went off to get it. When I returned, I gave her a full report of her other options. “We have some leftover pizza, a half a bag of chips, or a—”

  “I’m good,” she interrupted.

  The fact that she didn’t mock or tease me right now was more alarming than anything I’d seen or heard all night.

  “Lila,” I said, sinking into the sofa beside her. “You gotta tell me what’s up.”

  She blinked up at me, and my lungs hitched at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

  She nodded. “I just don’t know where to start.”

  “Try from the beginning,” I said.

  She sniffed, and then she started in on a sordid tale about her terrible father and how she and her sister were trying to get dirt on him, and then how he’d hit her tonight, and how she’d overheard him tell Jack and Tess that she wasn’t his biological daughter.

  “So that’s why you went to your mom’s?” I asked. “To find out who your real father is?”

  She bit her lip and nodded, and the mix of emotions in her eyes was overwhelming to see.

  “And?” I prompted.

  She let out a long breath. “I have no idea how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”

  I nodded.

  “She told me that your dad, Frank MacMillan… that he was my dad too.”

  I stared at her as the world shifted around me. As the earth seemed to flip in one direction and then another, all while her gaze held me fixed in place, like her eyes were my very own axis.