Page 53 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée (French Conquests 1)

And Sienna had been her rock, listening to Jacyn pour out her story, hugging her while she wept, and punctuating her narrative with the occasional curse: “That sonofabitch!” or “If I ever see him, I’m gonna kick his ass!” After all, that’s what besties were for.

Jacyn was also going full steam ahead with planning her launch for Napturally Beautiful, using a lot of the tips and advice that Alex had given her.

But she felt deep in her heart that she needed to see her family. If only to clear the air so that she could rest easy.

So as she walked in through the front door of her father’s house, she straightened her back and used every calming technique she could think of to give her strength. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. Delia met her at the door, way overdressed as usual, with her bone-straight weave flowing to her waist, and gave her loud peck on her cheek.

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns! So nice of you to grace us with your presence!” She gestured as she talked, making her engagement ring very visible. The ring Gregg had given her.

Immediately, Teresa arrived behind her daughter, squinting at Jacyn. “Well, you look different. Got a little sun while sipping other men’s champagne on the Riviera, did you? At least you upgraded your wardrobe.” She pointed dismissively at Jacyn’s outfit, which was one of the designer suits she’d brought back with her.

Jacyn had contemplated leaving behind everything Alex had bought her, a symbol of her break with him. But then she reminded herself she was a businesswoman now, and she had had several meetings with potential supplies and buyers since her return. She’d known she would need to dress the part.

So she ignored Teresa’s comment and gave her a brief hug, and followed her into the dining room where Gregg and her father sat in deep conversation. They rose politely as she entered, and, to her relieved surprise, her father pulled her against his chest for a moment. But his eyes never held hers.

They all sat as Teresa began to bring out the meal, but the tension in the air was palpable. Jacyn felt it in her bones that nobody really wanted her here. Gregg and her father were engrossed in awkward conversation about sport. Delia rolled her eyes as if this was a frequent, tiresome occurrence.

Like a bored cat finding a mouse to torment, she pounced on Jacyn. “Well? Haven’t you got anything to tell us? Like where you’ve been all this time? And why you never bothered to say anything about this man of yours? Who the hell gets engaged and disappears like that?”

“A man who was very rude to me, let me tell you,” Teresa cut in in aggrieved tones.

With good cause,Jacyn thought.You were being vicious.

“He’s not really acount, is he?” Delia demanded.

“No. He is not.”

“I knew you were making that up!” she asserted triumphantly.

“But his brother is.”

“Then I bet count-hoods or whatever you call them are a dime a dozen in France.” Teresa was clearly still smarting about the earful she’d gotten from Alex the last time she’d called. “Because nobody who talks to anyone like that could be descended from royalty.”

“Will your children be royals too?” Delia asked, glaring at her like a positive answer to that would ruin her day.

Before Jacyn could even respond—and, in fact, she had no idea about how these things worked—Delia gasped. “Where’s your engagement ring? You know, the one you’ve been flashing all over social media? And it’s not a real pearl, is it? Because surely they don’t grow that big.”

She’d left her beautiful ring on the table for Alex, but that was none of their business. She remained silent.

Teresa scoffed. “Oh, I suppose she didn’t want to wear it around her poor relations. What, did you worry we’d try to hock your precious ring?”

That was so ridiculous that Jacyn couldn’t even answer politely. “If you must know, the engagement is over. I will not be marrying Alex—”

Delia squealed with laughter. “I knew it! That guy was just bamboozled for a moment. He just came down with a dose of exoticism, yeah? Was he only into you because you were different from his usual Frenchies? Then he came to his senses, recognized you don’t have the class to fit in, and booted you out?”

Teresa joined in. “I’m not surprised. A man of his standing–if what you claimed about him was true, which I doubt–needs a better class of wife. Someone pretty enough to show off. Somebody classy enough like D–”

Jacyn had the uncomfortable sensation of being backed up against the ropes and getting pummeled. She threw a frantic look at her father, a look that said,Help me, Dad.But while the two men were no longer talking about baseball, they were sitting there silently, listening but not saying anything. Too afraid of their women to stick their necks out for her.

She felt her face crumple. She wanted to cry, but wouldn’t. Not in front of these people. Instead, she was going to say something; it was time to stand up for herself.

She got to her feet, feeling the power of her tailored suit, her killer heels, her freshly twisted and colored hair, seep through to her bones, giving her strength. She heard Sienna’s spirit as surely as if her best friend was standing over her shoulder, cheering her on:Yes! Give it to ‘em!

First, she spoke to her father. “Look at you,Dad!You’re hearing them coming at me, hearing what they’re saying, but not doing anything. I’m yourdaughter. Have you forgotten that? When I was a girl, you told me I was beautiful, over and over. And yet now you do nothing while your wife calls me ugly? Once again, you aren’t standing up for me. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Not one single time since you married her have you intervened on my behalf. Notoncehave you told her to stop ridiculing me, to leave your daughter alone. You’ve taken her side every single time—”

“That’s because what he gets from me, he can never get from you,” Teresa intervened smugly.

How vulgar, Jacyn thought. How completely out of line and yet, so much like Teresa. She was a woman who believed a woman’s sexuality was the only currency she had. Jacyn wanted to retch. The smell of the roast chicken made her physically sick. She pushed her plate away.

---