Prince
Prince
Cambria Hebert
Contents
Prince
Once upon a time
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Epilogue
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ABOUT CAMBRIA HEBERT
Also by Cambria Hebert
PRINCE Copyright © 2021 CAMBRIA HEBERT
* * *
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
* * *
Published by Cambria Hebert
http://www.cambriahebert.com
* * *
Interior design and typesetting by Classic Interior Design
Cover design by Cover Me Darling
Edited by Cassie McCown
Copyright 2021 by Cambria Hebert
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A baby is born in privilege, blooming under the warmth of his parents’ love. Jealousy sprouts and brings with it malevolent intentions. A king and queen cursed with an empty kingdom. A child abandoned in revenge.
A misfit, the boy should turn hard and cold among the thorns he grows in. Despite lifelong attempts to destroy him, this child does not wither. Underneath his insecurity, he maintains a heart with the tenderest center.
A heart that plays the most beautiful music.
Not far from this misfit but in a whole different world, a dashing prince lives with a crown of expectations adorning his golden head.
A prince raised with honor and duty. A prince expected to marry.
Alas, during a simple walk in the forest, he is enchanted by a different song.
And so a fairy tale is woven, two worlds colliding, secrets revealed, love everlasting…
And a realization that not all fairy tales require a princess.
* * *
*Prince is a modern fairy tale forgoing heteronormativity to boldly state that fairy tales are for everyone, no matter who you love (or don’t).
For Amber B,
BL wouldn’t be the same without you
and neither would this book.
Once upon a time
Once upon a time…
A woman with stars in her eyes is scorned and hate blooms in her heart.
Her victims reach far and wide, but the most tragic of all… a baby.
Prologue
Many years ago…
Villain
* * *
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And this night, fury was not contained in hell but crept among the privileged down a long hallway padded with an expensive rug, the folds of a long cloak rustling silently in the shadows.
They thought their money would keep the evil at bay. Their arrogance overcame all common sense, giving way to opportunity in the form of revenge.
Misery loves company, and I wouldn’t be the only one to suffer. He would forever rue the day he made a mockery out of me.
Cursed are the hearts who dare to love, what once beat soft and steady, glowing pink and infused with the passion of red. More than an organ filled with youth and life, but the encasing of a soul, a soul who shriveled under rejection and plight, turning so cold and small the casing also began to decay. Veins of black spread like snakes, circling, squeezing until there was no more pink and no more passionate red. Armor-like vines took over. Wicked thick thorns with piercing points locked away what once loved, and a cold, howling wind echoed through the heart, beating only for a sole reason.
Retribution.
Though the word went unspoken, it whispered through the passages of the vast home, echoing through the quiet to stop at the door like a hunting dog who found its prey.
Reaching out from the concealment of my cloak with a steady hand, thickly veined fingers wrapped around the doorknob ornately designed with pewter. The monied, well-installed design only aided in the silent way I slipped into the room.
The room was dark except for the glow of a nightlight casting stars across the ceiling, which was painted blue and adorned with hand-painted white clouds.
The rug underfoot was plush, muffling my footsteps, and the gently swaying mobile over an ornately carved crib made jealousy swell my chest until I was fisting my hands.
This house.
This room.
The softly playing violin echoing through the air.
Gritting my teeth until I heard them grind, I moved forward, keeping my head down, not looking. Not yet.
With careful, unhurried movements, I lowered the hood, allowing the fabric to fold and settle against my nape. Dark strands of hair clung to the back of my neck, curling around my throat like the same vines that choked my heart.
A curl fell across my forehead, and I brushed it away. As I lifted my chin, taking in a deep breath, finally, my eyes gazed down upon the small wrapped bundle sleeping without a care in the world.
This baby.
It all was supposed to be mine.
Instead, I was tossed aside as if I hadn’t mattered at all, replaced easily enough with someone more fitting to the role I was already cast in.
The faintest of sound, a barely there sigh, snapped my attention to the slumbering babe. A tiny fist broke free of the blue he was swaddled in, waving wildly before finding its way into his mouth.
As he suckled, his eyes locked on mine. The color of honey… just like the one who’d betrayed me.
Somewhere in the house, a dull sound echoed, and I remembered why I was here.
Reaching into the crib, I lifted the child, settling him against my bosom. I expected him to cry and wail, to be pierced by the barbs caging my soul.
Lifting my hand, I readied to shove it against his face to muffle any sounds he was sure to release… but he didn’t cry.
The baby smiled.
That shriveled, lifeless speck of my soul lying listlessly inside me jerked, and when it did, the rest of me did too.
Anger so hot and swift burned my skin, making the cape stick to my body and my clothes d
ampen with sweat.
How dare this child! How dare he try to manipulate me?
Just. Like. His. Father.
And just like that, our fates were sealed. I disappeared into the dark of night with the child who should have been mine, cursing us all to a miserable fate.
A child denied its right by birth by a woman denied her right by love.
And them?
A king and a queen left behind, cursed forever with an empty kingdom.
1
Ethan
* * *
The double doors leading into my office burst open, distracting me from the mountain of paperwork piled on my desk. Shoulder blades coming together with instant annoyance, I glanced up, ready to scold whoever the hell dared to just barge right in.
The reprimand died on my lips as the glossy, light-stained wood parted, revealing a figure I was very familiar with. Moving past him, my gaze landed on Bree, who hovered nervously at the threshold, apology plain on her face.
I couldn’t be mad at her. Even my assistant was no match for him.
Delivering her a small smile and a nod, I motioned that all was okay, and she nearly deflated in relief, scurrying forward to pull the doors closed behind him.
She wasn’t relieved I wasn’t angry. No, she was relieved she wasn’t the one having to deal with Adrian Abbott.
That was my job. A job assigned to me at birth.
“Father,” I greeted, leaning back in my chair as he went to the minibar across the room to help himself.
“We need to talk.”
“In the middle of a business day?” I asked, surprised he would interrupt me because, frankly, he was a giant workaholic and thought everyone else should be as well.
“This is about business.” He confirmed, turning with a crystal glass in his broad hand and about a finger length of dark liquid in the bottom.
“You heard back on the UK deal?” I questioned as he came to sit on the other side of my desk, his red tie the only color to his basic attire of a black suit and white dress shirt.
“It’s time you got married.”
A strangled sound twisted in my throat, and I was pretty sure I choked on the spit I usually swallowed without thought.
“Married?” I asked, the word coming out hoarse.
“You had to know this was coming.” He spoke as if I wasn’t about to asphyxiate.
Clearing my throat, I gave a very neutral response. “I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”
“And whose fault is that?” The blame was punctuated by the sharp snap of his glass on the top of my desk. “You’re the one who let Ivory run off with some… street rat.”
“Dad,” I practically groaned.
“Do you know how embarrassing that was for your mother and me? Our own son, the most eligible bachelor in all of New York, bested by a no one.”
Even though it irked me, I didn’t bother to explain Neo was not a no one. My father was so old-school money and so deep with the Upper East Side elite he wouldn’t hear anything I said regardless. And on top of that… if I wanted Ivory, I would have had her. No one “bested” me unless I allowed it.
“I wasn’t in love with Ivory. I never was. And she didn’t love me either.”
“What’s love got to do with it?” he exclaimed. “This was a perfect business opportunity we had been working on since you both were born. And what did you do? Tossed it all aside.”
“I’m not getting married for business,” I retorted.
“Well, the rate you’re going, you aren’t going to get married for love either. Might as well make some money.”
A dull ache started at the base of my skull, shooting pain behind my eyes. “Can we argue about this another day?”
“I found someone.”
Lowering my thumb and index finger from the bridge of my nose, I gazed up. “Pardon?”
“I found you a wife.”
If I’d been drinking something, it would have been all over the surface of my desk and his serious face right now. Was he for real? “Did you and Mom go shopping at the wife boutique?”
“They have those?” he asked. “How distasteful.”
I made a sound in the back of my throat. “Much more distasteful than arranging a marriage for your son when he was just a child.”
“You and Ivory were well-matched. Upper East Side royalty,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “You liked her. And your mother is very worried, thinks you have a broken heart.”
I sighed heavily. This was my own fault. Ivory and I were the ones who went along with the betrothal, never speaking out against it and just sort of allowing everyone to assume our fate.
If I’d said no from the time we were old enough to really refuse, this wouldn’t be an issue right now.
But I hadn’t said no. For reasons I didn’t care to explain.
“I don’t have a broken heart, Father. I’m happy for Ivory. I like Neo.”
He gave me a blank look.
“The street rat.” I clarified.
He blanched. “How could you possibly like him?”
“Because he saved Ivory’s life more than once. Because he treats her well.” Because he’s man enough to step into this world and be who he is with no apologies.
“He’s from the Grimms, Ethan.”
“He’s also got an upcoming art exhibit in the prestigious gallery just up the street to showcase his work.”
“A showcase he wouldn’t have if not for Ivory’s name.” My father was very good at arguing, probably the reason Abbott Group was one of the top real estate and hotel conglomerates on the East Coast.
“Ah, yes. I forgot money also buys talent,” I rebuked coolly. I was good at arguing too. I was his son after all.
“Pope Enterprises,” he said, completely disregarding the conversation we were having. I went with the change because it was a conversation I didn’t want to have either.
“The real estate investment firm out on the West Coast?” I said, running the name through my mind to recall everything I knew about them. Admittedly, it wasn’t much.
“I talked to Stefan Pope on the phone this morning. I think a partnership between the biggest firms on the East and West Coasts would be very profitable.”
Pursing my lips, I thought aloud. “And who’s to say a partnership like that would even work in our favor?” We were always the biggest company in any deals we made. It was the reason we were so successful. He who holds the most power reaps the most reward.
“Which is exactly why I think a little assurance is necessary.”
Clearly, he already had something in mind. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be sitting here in the middle of the day. I said nothing. Instead, I waited for him to spit out whatever it was his conniving mind had worked up.
“I’ve invited his daughter, Sienna, to visit and be a special guest at our upcoming events. She’s always wanted to visit New York City, and I have assured Stefan that you would be a most accommodating tour guide.”
“You didn’t,” I deadpanned, an uncomfortable knot tying itself in my intestines.
“I did, and you will.” He spoke like we were in a board meeting and he was laying down the law to his employees. “She’s single, beautiful, and worthy of someone like you. A marriage between our families would make our businesses the most powerful in the entire country and, when this UK deal goes through, in all of Europe.” Getting up from his seat, he finished the liquor in his glass and turned to go.
“No.”
He turned back, lifting one eyebrow. “No?”
“I’m not interested in her.”
“You haven’t even met.”
“And yet you’re already planning the wedding.” A metallic taste filled my mouth, and the throbbing behind my eyes intensified. Great. I really didn’t have time for this.
“So you’re interested in someone else?” Father asked, looking at me expectantly.
He knew damn well I wasn’t, and I couldn’t lie and say I was because I’d alre
ady said earlier that I wasn’t seeing anyone. Bastard.
He nodded once, as if my silence somehow proved his point. “She’ll be here in less than two weeks. She’s staying with your mother and me. I expect you to be very accommodating.”
A protest opened my lips.
He held up his hand. “At least meet her. You might like her. She could be your one true love.”
He let himself out of my office just as easily as he’d let himself in.
Slumping back into my chair, I let out a harrowing sigh.
Moments later, Bree bustled in with a gleaming silver tray, presenting it before me. Glancing over, I saw the single glass filled with water and, beside it, an ornate napkin with our company logo and two pills in the center.
“You know me well,” I said, tossing back the pills and downing the water.
“I pushed back your next meeting. You have two hours until your next conference call.”
A pushed-back meeting meant I’d be working later, but I didn’t care. Two hours of freedom seemed like a gift at the moment.