Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,41

father died.

“Well, it had the desired effect.” I shrug, though he can’t see it. “Carmen is happy, and hopefully I won’t have to lower myself to more interviews anytime soon. Plus I will be in good stead for my next announcement.”

“That is true. What does Alexis think?”

I grimace. “She doesn’t know yet.”

Vito suppresses his laughter and it comes through as a nasally hum instead. “You haven’t told her that you just publicly declared your love for her on television?”

“I did no such thing,” I snap, nostrils flaring. “I only said that she was special to me. That’s all.”

“Right, sorry.” His tone lowers with deference. I feel a twinge of guilt as I know he was only trying to joke with me, but lately I have not been in the mood for it.

“I have to go,” I say. “I will speak to you in the morning.”

I hang up and run my hand over my face, massaging the aching muscles of my temples. I don’t know why I am so edge—if it’s just the residual unwelcome vulnerability from the interview, Vito’s words or the backlash from Alexis I know is to come.

14

Alexis

Gabriel’s face splits into a toothy grin, beaming sunshine into the camera lens. The only time I have ever seen him smile like that is when he plays with Harry, but even then it’s different. This smile is deliberate, organized somehow. As though each of his teeth is filed in a specific order and his cheeks have a quota for how wide they must stretch. To me it looks wrong, but to the interviewer he has just become the most charming person in the world.

“Oh, tell me more about this Alexis,” she says playfully. She has the kind of husky voice that is perfect for television.

“She’s a journalist,” Gabriel says, adding cheekily, “So as you can see, I don’t hate all journalists.”

The two share a laugh. My stomach turns. I force myself to keep watching, even as my face heats to a nuclear level. I don’t know whether it’s anger or embarrassment.

How dare he?

Gabriel never consulted me, never asked if it would be okay for him to flog our family dynamic to reingratiate himself with the public after the whole assembly of leeches fiasco. And I know that’s what he’s doing because there is not a chance in hell he would mention me for even a second if doing so wasn’t useful to him.

The thought just makes me feel used. He is smiling more on camera than he has smiled at me since I came back to the mansion, and a strange and ugly jealousy rears inside of me. But who am I jealous of? Certainly not of Polly, who is preening, but who I know Gabriel wouldn’t hesitate to snap at if the compulsion came upon him.

I’m jealous of my own relationship, I realize. Or, rather, the version of my relationship that Gabriel is painting for the viewers. Because Gabriel and I are not in a relationship anymore, not one built on trust, affection, and cooperation like a good one should be. We had that once. The reason we don’t anymore is because of Gabriel and his lies.

It’s not fair for Gabriel to pretend that we have this great love story. I wonder what Polly and the general public would think if Gabriel told them the real story. The manipulation. The intimidation. Not to mention the outright kidnapping.

“Momma, look,” Harry calls from the floor, where he has made a lopsided tower of blocks that looks like it’s going to fall over at any moment.

I sigh and stop the video, closing my laptop and sliding it onto the sofa cushion next to me. Leaning down, I paste on a grin and marvel at Harry’s achievement.

“Wow, buddy! That looks amazing.”

I move a couple of the blocks to stabilize the structure, mostly because Harry hasn’t cried all morning and I’m worried if it falls that might set him off. Unfortunately my hands are still a little unsteady from my wavering emotions and with one false move, I knock it clean over. Harry giggles and bounces on his heels.

I guess his father’s not the only one who takes pleasure in destruction.

Harry starts stacking blocks again and I scoot back up to the sofa, pulling my laptop over and going through my emails. At the top of my inbox is one from Debbie, which I haven’t replied to yet. She’s asking how the article is going, but the truth is I’ve been sorely neglecting it.

Sure,