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Her phone vibrated in her clutch and, as if ready for any possible excuse to break the hold he had on her, she reached in to check her screen. It was a reply to her request to begin her new role as soon as possible. Quickly putting in her code, she read the email, knowing that even if her request had been denied she’d be leaving first thing in the morning. Because, no matter what, she wasn’t a masochist. She’d needed to see this, to feel it as real and know it as truth, but...
Her thoughts trailed off as she reread the email.
No.
She read it again, fury painting her cheeks with a flush.
Your email couldn’t have been more fortuitous—if you can start at the beginning of next week it would be greatly welcome. We’re so pleased that HRH recommended you and he was right, you really are a godsend!
Her knuckles turned white around the phone. She had, until now, believed that she had been headhunted because of her reputation, because of her skill. She’d thought it had been fortuitous. A sign that she should reach for more while connecting to her mother, even. But all this time it had been Aleksander. He’d kept that from her. Lied to her. Manipulated her into thinking that leaving was her choice, when he’d arranged the entire charade.
She looked up, the full horror of it dawning on her. He’d taken the first opportunity he could to remove her from the Palace. Once his sisters were settled and they no longer needed her, she was nothing to him but a distraction. Expendable and removable. In the way. Just like she had always been.
For the first time that night, his eyes found hers, the bitter chocolate a harsh taste to swallow. Turning from the room, blind to the guests, she picked up her skirts and ran, tears clouding her vision and pain tearing her heart apart.
Aleksander felt a knife pierce his chest when he saw the expression on Henna’s face. He knew it wasn’t because he was dancing with Tuva, he knew it was something else, something more. She’d been holding her phone and... He didn’t even realise he’d left Tuva and was halfway across the ballroom floor, following hot on Henna’s heels before it was too late. He heard the gasps and whispers around him as he pursued her out of the door and down a corridor.
His pulse pounded wildly in his veins, fear and hurt coagulating, making his blood thick and hard to push around his body. Everything in him told him it was fruitless. Everything in him told him to let her go, but he couldn’t. For all his determination to keep her at arm’s length, to push her away even, now, when it came down to it, he couldn’t let her go.
Leaving the sounds of the ballroom behind him, he entered the staff wing of the Palace, following the clip of Henna’s heels ahead of him. He spun blindly round another corner in the maze of corridors, following the way she led until they were deep in the heart of the Palace. He quickened his pace, no longer able to hold himself back, but she had too. Was she running from him?
The thought spurred him on, until he rounded a corner and came to a sudden stop, seeing her standing there, braced to confront him, fury and accusation shining in her eyes. He wavered, needing to close the distance between them.
‘Henna—’
‘How could you? How could you do that to me?’
He shook his head. ‘Henna, you knew that—’
‘I’m not talking about Tuva!’ she yelled.
Force of habit had him quickly scanning the corridor for staff or guests, not even half as relieved as he should be to find it empty. They couldn’t stay out here. He shoved at a door to the side, opening into an empty office. Satisfied, he grasped her hand and guided her away from ruination for them both. He kicked the door closed behind them and stared at Henna, her chest heaving with her ragged breaths, fury riding hard in her eyes.
‘What happened?’ he demanded.
‘Do you not know already, Your Highness?’
He clenched his jaw, the lashing bitterness in her tone painful because he was sure he had put it there.
‘After all, you pride yourself on ensuring that you know every move a person will make before they make it, do you not?’
Realisation crept into his thoughts. She knew. She knew he had engineered the job offer.
As if she saw the train of his thoughts, she nodded. ‘How could you do that? Of all the things that you have planned and manipulated, this was particularly cruel.’
He flinched, unable to deny her accusation.
‘You move people around a chessboard so that they cannot hurt you, but do you ever think how much hurt you cause?’ Henna demanded.
‘All the time,’ he growled, the confession wrenched from the deepest part of him. ‘It is all Ieverthink about.’
She shook her head, clearly disbelieving his words, her eyes full of a pain that swarmed around her like a tornado. ‘Was italla lie?’
‘I haveneverlied to you.’
‘You told me that I would always have a home here!’ she cried, her hurt stabbing daggers into his soul. ‘That was a lie!’
‘Henna—’
