Chapter 22

Vivienne

There’s a pit in my stomach from the moment I wake up.

A part of me doesn’t want to have to do this but… David has forced my hand. I’m Vivienne Fucking Taylor, and no man is allowed to make an ass out of me like that. Even if he’s a King.

I continue to go over the details, trying to figure out what went wrong as I start to get ready. It all started when I thought that I could change him. I’m the best of the fucking best...but David?

Not even Mother Theresa would be able to make David bend the knee and fall in line.

After dealing with David, even the Pope would risk eternal damnation just for the chance to strangle him.

I deserve a fucking raise.

Just you wait, as soon as I get back to New York, I’m demanding a raise, and I’m going to spend that money on booze so that I can drown out every memory of him.

As I get dressed for the morning and psyche myself up for this day ahead, it almost feels as though I’m getting ready for yet another battle. I’ll need to pick out my best armor and find something that’s going to protect me better than before.

Not that David will even be there—his schedule is fully booked for today.

But when he watches the security footage to catch one last glimpse of me, I want him to see me at my best.

So that he truly knows what exactly he’s given up on.

In the end, I decide to wear black. It’s fitting in more ways than one. The pencil skirt hugs my ass, and I know he’ll remember my lace panties. My white blouse is purposely unbuttoned and slightly translucent to show off my black lacy bra.

And after all, no outfit is complete without a pair of Louboutins, right?

With my letter in my handbag, I head to David’s manor. As the crest comes into sight, I see the remnants of last night’s party being ushered out by Charles. Blondes in bikinis and barely-there cover-ups spill out into taxis, like rats jumping from a sinking ship.

But I know they’ll be back again tonight.

After all, this is David we’re talking about.

I push past a pair of men as they collapse into an Uber and knock on the door. I look up into the security camera, giving the whole house my best ‘Fuck you’ glare.

But as the door swings open, it’s like I’ve been slapped in the face.

Have you ever been completely caught off guard? Because right now, I might as well have been back in that coat closet, with the King’s tongue circling my clit.

“What are you doing here?”

David swings the door open with reckless abandon, revealing his shirtless torso and untamed bed head. He rubs sleep from the corner of his eyes before he slowly begins to realize who I am.

“Vivienne…”

He whispers my name as I stare at him in shock and horror. But I quickly regain my composure, tensing my jaw and pushing past him into the foyer.

“You’re supposed to be out.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like it.”

“Why not?” I snap. “Too hungover?”

“Perhaps there were some things that I didn’t feel like facing alone.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sure one of those blondes I saw on the drive way would have been happy to stick around.”

“Vivienne, I…”

There’s no point in dragging this out any longer. I didn’t come here to have witty banter with David and for him to lure me back in again. That’s how he got me the first time.

I should have been more professional then, but at least I can be professional now. I pull out the letter from my handbag and hold it out to him.

“Take it.”

“What is it?”

“Take it.”

David takes the letter out of my hand and unceremoniously tears it open, tossing the envelope to the ground as he reads my resignation.

My heart is beating in my throat. I move to make sure the door is behind me. Once he reads it and accepts it, I can be on my way.

“Vivienne, what is this?”

“Exactly what it says it is.”

“You want to resign?”

“No, I am resigning. It’s right there in black and white.”

I almost feel sorry for David. But he should’ve thought about how I felt when he pulled that girl into his lap and put on a big smile for the cameras.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” David drops the letter to the floor and looks up to me. “I said no.”

“You can’t make me stay.”

“You haven’t even heard my side of the story.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. “Your side of the story? The whole world has seen your side of the story, David. It’s on the front page of every fucking tabloid!”

“Okay! So I fucked up!” David’s voice raises, but I’m not going to back down that easily.

He might be King and used to getting his own way, but his frustration doesn’t frighten me.

“Understatement of the century.”

“I fucked up, and I’m fucking sorry, okay, Viv? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, that’s not what I want to hear.”

“Why not?”

“Because I shouldn’t need to hear it in the first place!”

David runs a hand through his hair and sighs. I shake my head at him and feel myself begin to tremble with anger. After all this, he still thinks that one little apology is going to make everyone feel better and make this whole shit storm blow over?

“I thought I could rely on you, David. You tricked me into believing that you were capable of being so much more. Then, at the first opportunity you get, you go back to who you were.”

“That’s not who I am.”

“You sure about that?” I look around the chaos from last night’s party and raise an eyebrow.

“Isn’t it?”

“Vivienne, I’m changing. Look, you’ve changed me.”

“Don’t try and pin this on me.” I go to turn away, but David snatches my wrist, holding me in place.

He pulls me back to look at him. I wrench myself free.

“I’m sorry I let you down, Viv.”

“That’s what you think this is about?” I laugh in disbelief. “You think this is because you failed at my program to reform your image? I’m pissed at you because you fucking humiliated me!”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“No, of course you didn’t. You just weren’t thinking. But in one blurry, low quality soft-porn-picture of you and some girl, you’ve made me look like some weak victim to be pitied and to be felt sorry for.”

“But you’re not like that—”

“No! I’m not like that! I’m Vivienne Taylor! Then, to make it worse, when you come home pissed out of your head, you don’t even care how much you’ve hurt me. When I try to tell you how I feel, you throw it all back in my face.”

As I verbally tear into him, David almost looks like a guilty school boy. I think I can see genuine remorse in his eyes, but it’s too late now.

“You told me to basically go fuck myself. So, tell me, Your Highness, why would I want to stay around after that?”

I can tell that my yelling is taking him off guard. He’s grasping at straws, saying anything that he thinks will work in convincing me to stay.

“Because I fucking love you! I fucking love you so much, is that what you want to hear?”

His words—his declaration—hits me like a slap in the face.

My heart leaps into my mouth and pounds rapidly. For a moment, I feel light headed.

“No…that’s not what I wanted to hear. Not anymore.”

I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s too quiet, too soft. Like I’m the victim the tabloids have been painting me as.

I watch David’s heart break through his eyes. He stares at me in sadness and shock. His voice is also small and quiet, in his dumbfounded state.

“Then what do you want from me, Viv?”

“I want you to let me go.”

I take a step away from him and shake my head. I can’t bear to look away from him, so our eyes remain locked. I feel like I’m watching a car crash, and I’m too slow to stop it.

So all I can do is wait for it to be over.

“Goodbye, David.”