Majesty (American Royals, #2)(99)

“But aren’t you afraid of what will happen once everyone finds out?” Daphne made a clucking, concerned sound. “Nina, for a girl who claims to hate the spotlight, you somehow keep finding it over and over again. America isn’t going to be very kind to you, once they learn you’ve left Jefferson for his best friend.”

Nina itched to slap her smug, perfect face. How did Daphne always seem to zero in on her greatest fears?

“I’m not stupid. I know it won’t be easy,” she replied, with more bravado than she felt. “But Ethan is worth it. We have something real.”

Daphne gave a sharp laugh. “You fool. I’m the one who told Ethan to go out with you.”

Silence scraped at Nina’s eardrums. She couldn’t hear anything anymore: not the muffled sounds of footsteps, not the security guards speaking into walkie-talkies. It had all receded behind a wall of shock.

“Ethan only ever started dating you because of me.” Each of Daphne’s words was like the sting of a lash, like a knife digging into Nina’s side. “You see, I was worried that Jefferson still cared about you. I realized that I would never get him back if you were still an option. So I asked Ethan if he would keep tabs on you.”

“You’re lying.” Nina’s reply was automatic.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “I orchestrated the entire thing. I told Ethan everything I’d learned about you, from your weird M&M obsession to the fact that you love Venice. I wanted him to flirt with you a little, and he did exactly what I said.”

Nina’s heart lurched with a sick sense of betrayal as she recalled the pleasant glow of surprise she’d felt when Ethan had noticed those things. She’d thought he was so observant, that they were compatible.

She’d never really questioned why, after they’d lived on the same campus for months without seeing each other, he’d suddenly shown up in her journalism class and asked to be partners. Had he been following Daphne’s orders the entire time?

At the hurt look on Nina’s face, Daphne smiled. “Well. It’s nice to know he made use of all my intel.”

Some stubborn part of Nina refused to back down. “Ethan wouldn’t do that to me. He’s nothing like you.”

“You have no idea what Ethan is really like.”

Nina’s stomach plummeted as she remembered what Ethan had said, just this morning: My reasons for hanging out with you, earlier this year, were totally messed up. And that night at the twins’ party: You shouldn’t want to be with me….If you only knew.

Daphne cast her a withering glance. “Don’t you see, Nina? Ethan loves me, not you. He dated you when I told him to, because he loves me. He’s kept secrets so dark you couldn’t begin to imagine them—covered up things that would make your blood run cold—because he loves me.” Daphne spoke with a terrifying calm. “Whatever you think of me, that I use people and manipulate the tabloids, then you have to think the same about Ethan. He and I are cut from the same cloth.”

Manipulate the tabloids. Nina drew in a breath. “You told that reporter about me and Ethan, didn’t you? The one who called Jeff?”

“Of course,” Daphne said, smirking. “Don’t you get it by now? I’m behind everything.”

What a fool Nina had been, thinking she could escape. No matter how much Daphne took from her, no matter that Nina had broken up with Jeff, it would never be enough. Daphne had meant what she’d said at Beatrice’s engagement party: she would always be one step ahead of Nina, making her life a living hell.

But why did Daphne even care what she did anymore? She wasn’t a threat; she was with Ethan now.

Nina sucked in a breath as comprehension dawned. “Oh my god. You’re in love with Ethan, aren’t you?”

Daphne gritted her teeth but didn’t answer, which was how Nina knew it was true.

“You’ve always loved him,” she went on, threading the pieces together. “But you wouldn’t date him, because you wanted to be a princess more than anything else. Even more than you wanted Ethan.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” the other girl spat. “You don’t know me at all.”

Nina took in Daphne, the absolute desperation of her ambition, and again felt that disgusted, hollow sort of pity.

“I feel sorry for you,” she declared. How could anyone give up a person they actually loved, to mold their entire life around someone they didn’t?

“You feel sorry for me? Who do you think you are?”

“Who do I think I am?” The sheer condescension of Daphne’s question made Nina stand up straighter. “I don’t have to think about it at all, because I know who I am! Unlike you, I am proud of where I came from, of the brilliant, hardworking parents who raised me. They may not have a title, which clearly means everything to you, but you know what? We don’t care.”

Nina took a step forward to underscore her point, and felt a grim satisfaction when Daphne flinched.

“We don’t fixate on how long our ceremonial capes are, or how high we fall in the list of the peerage,” she went on fiercely. “We care about the things that matter—integrity, honesty, kindness. We don’t look at other people and automatically think of them as our competition; we think of them as our friends.”