Page 33 of The Prince's Green Card Scheme

No one except me, anyway.

“You’ve come back for the inheritance, haven’t you?” spits Miguel.

“No,” I lie. “I came back because this is my home. I wanted to see my family — and nobody told me my grandfather had died.”And,I think,I do want my inheritance.

“Well, unfortunately,” continues Miguel, “despite what we all tried to tell him, Grandfather didn’t write you out of the will. You always were his favorite.”

“Can’t see why,” chips in Luca, examining his manicure like a disinterested villain. “It’s not like you do anything but give us all a bad name.”

“Thanks,” I say, letting their words flow over me. This is mild compared to their usual digs. “Anyway, where the hell have youtwo been? I’ve been home for two months now. I haven’t seen either of you at all.”

“Some people actually havejobsto do,” says Luca, fixing me with a withering look that, if I were less wise to his tricks, would disintegrate me at once. “We’ve both been in Spain for the last six months. You know — diplomatic relations, keeping alliances, that kind of thing.”

I can’t help myself and say, “Oh, yeah? Trying out every tavern in a twenty-mile radius of the hotel? Having every girl you set your eyes on?”

Miguel slams his fist on the table, his eyes blazing with irritation. “This is why we got rid of you. You’re a good-for-nothing, arrogant little brat. We were better off without you here.”

I roll my eyes. When I was younger, these sorts of comments used to hurt me, but ever since I realized that Miguel was lashing out at me to cover for his own insecurity, not a single word he has said has bothered me.

“This is boring,” I say, making a point of yawning theatrically. “Can I go now?”

“No,” says Luca. “The thing is, Paolo, we don’t think you have the right to come back here and demand inheritance. We don’t think you should get anything at all.”

“Surely that was Grandpa’s choice to make,” I say. “You can’t exactly stop it if it’s written in law. That’s how these things work.”

Luca scoffs. “How these things work is, if you’re a good little boy who doesn’t go and get himself exiled and acts like a real prince the way he’s meant to, then you can get whatever you want.”

Miguel gives Luca a hard look, presumably to shut him up, then takes over the conversation. “You are the first person to have been banished in over three hundred years. You can’t just saunter back in here full of lies, hauling your fake wife behind you and pretending that everything’s going to be okay. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

I lean back in my seat, shrugging. I think they’re probably bluffing about their ability to cut me out of the family. I have no way of knowing for certain, though, so I probably shouldn’t piss them off, just in case theydohave some sorts of power to take Grandfather’s money away from me.

But even if they do, if Mother and Father let me stay, then frankly I don’t need the inheritance anyway. If I’m allowed to stay, there’s nothing Miguel and Luca can do to stop me being here.

“My wife isn’t fake,” I say, deciding that is the easiest argument to make. “She’s actually very real. She’s upstairs right now.”

The best argument, maybe, but possibly not the best thing to say, because a glint enters both of their eyes. It’s a wicked kind of sparkle I remember well from childhood. That is a look of imminent bullying. That’s something I cannot — Iwillnot— allow to happen to Chloe.

They can say what they like tome, but they will not hurt her.

“We look forward to meeting her,” says Luca with a crude grin. “I bet Mom and Dad are, too.”

“Actually, they told me that, because I’m responsible now, because I have a wife who they are going to meet and like, that means I’m going to be able to stay in this country forever again. Which means I’m just as entitled to the inheritance as you are.”

“So thisisabout the inheritance!” snaps Miguel like he’s won. Then he launches into a long spiel about how horrible I am and how I don’t deserve any money or the family name or blah-blah-blah.

I’m just relieved that they’re back to attacking me rather than Chloe. They’re both kind of scary when they’re mean, and they’re mean a lot. The last thing I want is for Chloe to get embroiled with them.

I know I shouldn’t tune out from what Miguel is saying, but I can’t help it. He’s boring me to tears, and all I can think about is Chloe upstairs in a room all by herself.

All alone in a foreign country, cursing my name because of all the lies I’ve told her.

She must be just as crazy as I am to have stayed here.

There’s no way she can forgive me after everything I’ve done. Somehow, the idea of her cutting me out forever freezes my heart like a block of ice.

I guess I was stupid to have thought she would still want me.

I guess I screwed it all up when I never messaged her again after I got home.

---