From Chex: I've currently got a lot of ideas for new stories, but since this is the only one that doesn't include Bell, (and therefore require me to finish "Trust Me" first) I'm starting this idea before it fades. All about Princess. I hope you enjoy.
"Did you want something, Daddy?" The red-headed heiress asked loudly, clearly irritated. Her voice echoed off the walls ornated with gold-framed portraits. The heels of her solid gold pumps Click-clacked as she descended the spiral staircase. A seemingly endless line of servants bowed as she past. Maids on the left. Butlers on the right. All lining the lengthy corridor that led to the parlor.
Cornelius Morbucks sat in his high-backed cushioned bergere chair facing the fireplace. His arms folded patiently in front of him, he tapped his large ringed finger against his wrist. His face completely devoid of any emotion. Behind him he could hear his daughter enter the room, speaking as if he had heard every word she had said since she was upstairs. Like she was finishing some previous conversation they'd had.
"...and if this is about the Lamborghini than that totally wasn't my fault! What kind of idiot puts a fire hydrant in the middle of the sidewalk anyway?!"
He decided to let her get out whatever it was she was ranting about. She had been called down several minutes prior to this. He hadn't specified what he needed to speak to her about. That conversation was better done face-to-face. It was rare that Princess was home on a Saturday like this and he had put off telling her long enough. If there was ever a time to tell her what he had to tell her, it was now.
"So what did you want, Daddy? I'm busy, ya know. I don't have all day. And I want to go to Diamonique, like, now. So can I have some money?"
The last question was predictable, but also convenient. If there was ever a way to introduce the subject, it would be with something his daughter was familiar with. Money.
Cornelius looked at his daughter. She stood clutching a small gold purse. She had on a purple sequined halter top and a skirt that put the mini in miniskirt. She was decorated with various gold bracelets, rings, earrings. Anywhere that jewelry was designed to go, it was displayed on her. Her hand was held out toward him expectantly. He looked at it and sighed. In all the years he'd known her, she had never changed. Although she hadn't always dressed so trashy. She had always had a love, even as a toddler, for flashy expensive things. The more expensive the better. Diamonds had always been her favorite gemstone, gold her favorite element. Money was always her top priority. He could imagine where she got that from.
Until only six weeks ago, he had been the same way. Living for the finer things. Loving nothing, including his own daughter, more than his money. But that had all changed when he met Angeline Foyler. After Princess's mother passed away, he had given up any hope of ever loving a woman again. He had redirected his love for his wife onto Princess. But in the wrong way. He had spoiled her, thus ruining her. She was and had always been a selfish, bratty child. She had never appreciated what she had. Never thanked anyone for anything. For some reason, despite the fact that she'd done nothing to earn it, she seemed to feel like she was entitled to the life she had. Maybe if her mother had been there things would've been different. But there was nothing he could do about that. The damage was done. At this point he was convinced there was nothing he could do that would change his daughter's ways. And he was sure that if his dear, sweet Diane had lived she would be every bit as disappointed in their daughter as he was now.
But Angeline...she was a dream come true. The moment he had seen her walking down mainstreet from the town car, the old flame of love rekindled itself in him. He could remember exactly what she looked like. Dressed in a simple pale pink dress and cream sweater, her lovely blonde hair pulled into a bun. A few stray strands dangled just below her ear. She held a large loaf of French bread in her arms, walking with a look of inner peace. For the second time in his life, he cared about something other than money. Someone. Angeline Foyler. At that exact moment, he had his driver stop in the middle of the road, he got out, and he approached her. It had all gone uphill from there.
She was the kindest, sweetest woman he'd ever met. Angeline, or Angel, as he liked to call her, worked in a nursing home on the south side of town. And when she wasn't aiding the elderly, she was volunteering at some shelter, or assisting in some fundraiser. Since he had met her, over $75,000 of what would normally be spent gambling or investing in stocks, went to charity. He found it astonishing that such a wonderful creature was unmarried. But that would soon change.
In fact, that's part of what he needed to tell his daughter.
"Perhaps you should have a seat." He snapped his fingers and a servant quickly placed a chair behind Princess. She fell into it with a loud, exasperated sigh and dismissed him. She tapped her foot impatiently against the Persian rug and scowled at him. It was rare that she was left alone in a room with her father. That usually meant he was reserving the time specifically for her. It made her slightly nervous, but she wouldn't let that show. She was far too good for that.
"What is it, Daddy?"
"You're well aware that I've been seeing Ms. Angeline Foyler."
"Duh. So what?"
He cleared his throat. "Well, I wanted to inform you that I proposed to her. And she said yes. We're getting married."
Princess stared at him stupefied. Her face was the picture of disbelief. She sat up straight and peered at him. "Are you kidding me? You're kidding, right? You've only been dating for a few weeks! I've never even met her!"
And, of course, there was a reason for that.
Like most kind, caring, self-less women, Angeline loved children. She had a soft spot for them. Whenever they happened to see a small child, which wasn't rare considering the places she liked to go, she would greet them with a smile with more tenderness then Cornelius imagined they got from their own mothers. Angeline's love for children was, surprisingly enough, one of the many things he loved about her.
Teenagers, however, were another matter. Princess was no small sweet child. She had no innocence. No blatant curiosity. None of the things Angeline loved about children. And the thought of introducing a saint like her to an obnoxious brat like his daughter...well, it embarrassed him to no end. If his wonderful Angeline were to find out he was responsible for raising someone so...so...shockingly atrocious...
Yes, Cornelius Morbucks was ashamed of his own daughter. So much so that he hadn't even mentioned her existence to his sweetheart. The woman he would soon wed. But Angeline had made him happier in the six weeks that they'd known each other than Princess had in her sixteen years of life on the planet.
So the matter remained unresolved. If he were to marry his Angeline, surely she would meet, speak with, or get a mere glance at his daughter. Or at least talk to enough people to figure out he had one. No, of course there was no way around it.
"Here." He handed her a suitcase that had been concealed at his side. Princess was used to dealing with cold hard cash. He doubted she even knew how to cash a check.
Princess immediately snatched it up. Opening it, she began flipping through the stacks of hundred dollar bills. It was alot more than she usually got but she wasn't about to say anything in case he wasn't aware that he had given her too much. "'Bout time. So what does she have to do with anything?"
"Do you know how much I gave you or what it's for?"
"Does it matter? It's more enough for Diamonique."
He sighed, running a hand through his graying black hair. "Princess, Anna," he started, calling her by her real first name.
"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "You know I hate that!"
He ignored her. "Look, I don't know how else to say this. There's $500,000 in that case. That's enough to take care of you for a while if you know what to do with it."
"Take care of me?"
"I'm marrying Angeline. I haven't told her about you and, frankly, I don't want to. You're an embarrassment. You're unworthy of the name Morbucks. Over the past couple of weeks I've spoken to my attorney and some legal advisers. I've gotten court consent to sever our ties. As of now, I'm not legally your father."
She gaped at him, her previously narrowed eyes widening perceptively. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I said I've--"
"You're disowning me?!"
"The legal term is 'emancipating'--"
Her green eyes flashed with rage and she shook her head wildly, her bright red curls whipping around her. Her face flushed in anger and her body shook with violent convulsions. Her knuckles whitened around the leather handle of the suitcase. For a moment, she was beyond words. What could anyone really say when their parents had just told them they were an embarrassment and were no longer of member of the family? How does anyone respond to that?
"Y-You can't do this to me! I'm only 16! You can't throw me out!"
"Actually, I can," her father stated calmly and professionally. "The law only requires that their be guardian and/or court consent, which there is, obviously. As well as you being able to support yourself financially. The money I gave you is--"
"KEEP IT!!" She threw the suitcase at him and he fumbled to catch it before it hit it's intended target. "You bastard! I HATE YOU!! I hate you and this stupid place! You can't treat me this way! All for that worthless bitch! I hope you'll be happy once she bleeds you dry!"
Her father sat silently through her rant, his face a mask of complete and utter indifference. He'd been expecting this, of course. It had been a while since Princess had reduced herself to a tantrum, but this put all others to shame. She cursed, spit, and began to tear the room apart. Hurling priceless vases and antiques everywhere. She sent anything she could manage to lift flying from one side of the room to the other. All the while screaming obscenities.
Cornelius Morbucks watched morbidly. Merely calculating the cost of the damages in his head while his daughter screamed her heart out.
Once she was satisfied with the utter mess she had made, she turned to him, looking slightly deranged; her hair and clothes disheveled, sweat trickling down her face and neck, her eyes wild with unrestricted fury.
"You heartless, idiotic, jackass! You never loved me! I never mattered! And now you're trying to get rid of me! Well, guess what! I don't need you! I don't need anyone! I'm Princess! I can do whatever I damn well please with my life and I don't need you or you lousy pocket change either!
Her father was as calm as ever. "I highly advise that you take the money. And I'm giving you two days to get your stuff together--"
"Don't bother! I'm leaving! NOW!"
With that final statement said she stormed her way out of the parlor and out of his life. Shoving a defenseless maid to the side and growling foul language and threats at the servants who were too near her being.
Cornelius sighed a tired sigh. That had gone about as well as expected. One of his favorite parlors was destroyed, and the servants were cowering and fearing for their lives now, but he had accomplished his task.
He looked at the suitcase in his hand that held half a million dollars. The suitcase his daughter had thrown back at him in her fit of maniacal rage. The suitcase she had refused.
The law only required that he give her enough to financially sustain herself, which he did. What she did with the money, whether she used it sparingly and wisely, or she returned it out of pure hatred, was none of his concern.
From Chex: I'm very...self-conscious about this chapter. I want this story to seem realistic and I'm not sure how well I played that. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.