20. Lorde
Lorde
T he next morning is so calm that it lulls me into a false sense of security. You know the type. You know there’s a reason to be worried, but you can’t remember why. All it takes is fully waking up to remember, and you refuse.
Except I do fully wake up – and the calm remains.
Daisy sleeps beside me, her body tangled in silk sheets, her mouth half-open in the silliest way.
A true fly-catching moment. Her skin is speckled with marks I don't regret leaving. She's mine. I don't care if it’s possessive or juvenile or way too much after two months. If she wanted gentle and temporary, she shouldn’t have looked at me like that in New York. She shouldn’t have kissed me like she was already mine.
But here she is.
And here I am, watching her sleep like a creep, wondering when all this is going to get ripped out from under us.
I don’t believe in peace. Not really. I believe in pauses between storms, most of which I’ve instigated. I believe in the way Daisy curls closer when I slightly move. In her body responding to mine like we were forged from the same clay before we were even born. But peace ?
Her phone buzzes somewhere in the room, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of bed quietly, pulling on a robe that smells like something floral. I walk across the room, find her phone, and check the screen even though I shouldn’t.
Seven missed calls from Marcello DeMonte.
Three from her mother.
One from Cristiano.
I don’t open any of the messages. I think I know what this is about.
I’m halfway to putting the phone down when it pings again with a fresh text. This one’s a preview I can’t avoid reading.
“We need to talk before this goes public. Call me. Please, Principessa.” It’s her father.
I open her messages. Yeah, I know. Bad girlfriend behavior. Bad fiancé behavior, if I let myself hope. But I need to know what I’m dealing with. For the love of God, her numerical password is her birthday. I get in on one try.
“We can spin this. But we need to be smart. Take a step back from Sheen. Let things cool off before Cristiano’s father pulls the plug.”
The air feels colder. I look back at Daisy, still sleeping like she doesn’t know she’s about to be asked to choose between her family’s empire and the woman she just screamed herself hoarse for.
I know what this is. I’ve lived through this script before. Fame doesn’t shield you from it. Money definitely doesn’t. When the world decides you’re inconvenient, when your love becomes an obstacle, they start sharpening the knives.
I make coffee.
I drink it on her balcony in one of her oversized sweaters that fits me naturally, my bare legs freezing.
I stare out at the street, the calm of it this early in the morning so complete it’s making me more jittery than this coffee.
I want thunder. Fights on the sidewalk. Fuck it, I’ll take paps lining up to catch a snap of my mug on Daisy DeMonte’s balcony, wearing her clothes and with bedhead.
When Daisy finally stirs and steps out to find me, her hair is also a mess.
“Hey,” she says softly, shivering in the early morning breeze. “Why are you up?”
“You got some messages.”
That gets her attention. “From whom?”
“Your family. Cristiano.”
Her spine straightens and her lips dry. The calm breaks.
“I haven’t looked yet.”
“I did.” Might as well not lie about it. “By the way, your birthday? Really? With all these paps about? You need a better access code.”
Daisy flinches, but only for a second. “What did they say?”
“That some deal’s falling apart. They’re panicking. You need to break up with me to buy them some time.”
She doesn’t say anything. She merely walks to the balcony railing and stares at the street the same way I did.
After a long silence, she whispers, “It’s because you’re a woman, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer right away. Then, “No. It’s because I’m not useful to them. If I were a billionaire heir with a dick, they’d have put a ring on me themselves.” Instead, I’ve got two tits and a womb. Really, what were they thinking? Yesterday already feels like several months ago.
Daisy turns, red in the face and still dry in the lips. “You are rich. You are more powerful than half the weirdos they fawn over.”
“Yeah, but I’m not theirs .”
It lands. Her face crumples for half a second before she catches herself.
“They can’t make me leave you,” she says. “I don’t care what they say.”
“They’re not trying to make you leave. They’re trying to make me walk.
” I touch her cheek. “They know you’re stubborn and that I’m a liability.
This isn’t a business move. It’s personal.
They’re using you to punish me. If I love you, I’m supposed to back down.
Let you go so your family stays afloat.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not fair.”
“Since when is any of this fair?”
“Lorde…”
“I won’t do it,” I say. “If they think they can scare me into giving you up, they’ve forgotten who the fuck I am.
” I sniff. “Camilla Sheen had a kid out of wedlock at the height of her career and didn’t let it stop her from being one of the highest-paid and most sought-after actresses in Hollywood.
You think this is gonna stop me from doing what I want? ”
Daisy crashes into me and kisses me hard, messy, like she doesn’t know what else to do with the panic crashing down on us both. I kiss her back, swallowing her silent noise and grounding her.
When she pulls away, her eyes are glassy.
“They’ll go after everything,” she says. “The press. Your reputation. They’ll leak something if they have to. Try to twist it into a scandal and pressure me into breaking up with you just for that.”
“Then let them,” I say. “I’ve survived worse. You have too.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“I’d rather get hurt than give you up.”
She exhales, trembling. “What do we do?”
I brush my thumb across her cheek, and she softens her face and looks at me like she’s never been so in love before. God almighty. What have I gotten myself into?
“Okay,” I say, “so, obviously your family is a disaster. We knew that. I simply didn’t expect them to be so on-brand about it.”
Daisy gives me a faint, frazzled laugh. “This isn’t funny.”
“It is a little funny. They’re trying to break us up so they can sell you off to a mediocre man named Cristiano. If this were a telenovela, I’d be the seductive lounge singer they underestimated.”
She rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch. Progress.
“Listen,” I take her hand, “I’ll go to them.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll go to the house. I’ll look them in their cold, money-soaked eyes and explain, very slowly, that I’m not going anywhere.
That I love you. And that if they want to save their precious deal, they’re going to have to accept the terrifying reality that their daughter is dating someone way hotter and richer than Cristiano will ever be. ”
Daisy blinks. “You think that’s going to help?”
“Absolutely not! But I’ll also be polite. I’ll wear a blouse. One with buttons and everything. Nice step up from yesterday. Yesterday, I wanted them to think I could compete with men. Today, they’ll know that, no, a woman was given your hand in marriage!”
“Oh, my God.”
“I might even brush my hair.”
Daisy chokes on a laugh. “Stop.”
“I’m serious.” I bring her knuckles to my lips. “Let me go to them. I’ll be good. You know me. I’m irresistible when I turn the charm up to full blast.”
“Lorde, they’re not fans. They’re not journalists or party people or half-drunk heiresses. They’re my family.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’ve handled worse. I followed my mom’s press tour with three exes in the same hotel once. Compared to that, your father is a walk in the park.”
She bites her lip like she doesn’t want to smile, but it happens anyway.
“I don’t want you to get shredded by them,” she says. “They’ll pick apart everything. They’ll say you’re after my money, that you’re manipulating me. You’re just bored.”
“I am bored. With everyone who isn’t you.”
Her cheeks flush. God, she’s pretty when she blushes. All that sharpness whittled down to something smooth.
“I’m not going to hide,” I tell her. “Not from them, not from the media, not from anything. But I’ll play the game.
I’ll show up and smile and prove I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to their dynasty.
Who knew that queering up the DeMontes was exactly what they needed to come into the 21 st century? Sales will be up!”
Daisy tilts her head. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“Then I’ll bribe them.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
“I’ll slide your dad a check and say, ‘Let’s call it even.’”
She laughs again. “Lorde Sheen,” she says, wiping her face, “you’re insane.”
“Insanely devoted.” I steal another kiss. “Don’t worry, Daze. I’ve got this.”
Daisy sighs. “Fine. But you are not bribing my father.”
“We’ll see how the meeting goes.”
She buries her face in my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, and for a second, I feel that calm again.
Underneath all the snark, I know my truth – I’d fight anyone for her. Her family. The press! I’ve played my whole life like love was optional. But this? Daisy?
She’s my endgame.