The Fall of a Proud Princess

Chapter 2- Honeymoon or Sour-moon

DANIELLAH

As expected, the airport is crowded with a lot of people and reporters when we arrive.

I’m still in Conrad’s jacket when we exit the car but I am also a little tipsy.

Drinking a whole champagne bottle will do that.

I’ve been drunk in public without anyone noticing, so I still look normal as we make it through hand in hand surrounded by bodyguards.

Once in the private waiting area, Conrad walks to me with a bottle of water.

“You need to hydrate, you barely ate at the reception. Your head is going to hate you in the morning.” He fights a smile that oddly annoys me.

“I’m good thanks,” I down my glass of champagne.

I like how it makes me feel.

“Take the water, Daniellah.” He places it in my hand but I let it drop.

I know I’m being difficult, but I’m hungry, annoyed and I can’t keep anything down because I can’t get over the idea that I’m someone’s wife at 20 years old.

“I’m not asking again,” he picks up the bottle and I rise to my feet to face him.

“Good, which means I won’t have to repeat myself.” I pour myself another glass but he takes the glass from my hand making it spill a little.

I give him a look and he returns it, so I connect the champagne bottle to my lips.

Conrad clearly underestimates how stubborn I can be.

“Stop,” he pulls the bottle from lips making it drip down my mouth.

To annoy him further, I stick my tongue out and lick my lower lip which makes him look away.

“Listen, Hugh is it?” I snatch the bottle from his hand. “Three months ago I didn’t know you, three days ago I was forced to uplift my life to adjust to yours and 3 hours ago I stood in front of the world and said I do to a stranger.”

I take a long swig.

“So I have two choices here. Either I ball my eyes out or drink and I prefer the latter, so back off.” I lift the bottle in cheers.

“I’m not holding your hair when you throw up the two bites you ate tonight.” He walks away and I mimic him before dropping back down to my seat.

He fidgets on the couch opposite to mine as I continue drinking.

I don’t even notice him stand up or walk to me till he grabs the bottle from my hand and tosses it in the bin. I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter when it hits the bottom.

“Enough!” he barks, “you’re a princess for fuckssake.”

I don’t know how but the way he just said it triggers flashbacks of my father and his narcissistic controlling behavior. He sounded exactly like him for a second there.

“If you ever take that tone with me ever again,” I rise from my seat making him step back. “Not only will I f*****g hurt you, but I will make sure you regret saying I do.”

“I just thin—”

“Again, I got sold to your family for a hotel at 20. People my age are out, having fun while I have a husband I didn't even know yesterday. So will you for the love of God just cut me some slack?!” I grit through my teeth.

We're alone in the room but there are body guards outside the door.

“If cutting you some slack involves letting you damage your liver, then forget it.” He shakes his head.

“It actually involves letting me do whatever the hell I want."

"Try again," he clicks his tongue.

"All my life I’ve had people tell me how to speak, dress and act. All my life I’ve had eyes on me, judgement on everything I do and say. My only saving grace was love. That was the only thing I hoped they wouldn’t take away but they did and it feels like hell on a loop.”

My eyes pool with tears but I don't let them drop. I’ve never cried in public and I won’t start now.

“And the worst part is I feel it all. Every single thing so if I want to drink, I will freaking drink and can only hope I stop feeling altogether or better yet. Till it kills me.”

I bump his shoulder on my way to the table filled with alcohol and snacks.

Conrad doesn’t give me a response or tries to stop me from drinking after that. We board the plane in silence and I end up passing out on our flight to France.

CONRAD

Dani spends the entire day in bed.

We are in Cannes for the film festival, so instead of staying in a hotel we are renting a yacht since my sisters are using the family one.

She didn’t throw up like I expected but she does look like she is in pain when she wakes up.

Feeling bad, I get her water, painkillers, and a croissant to soak up the alcohol in her body.

I woke up mid-day due to jet lag but after breakfast I used the time to finally finish the Google research on my wife.

When I saw a picture of her online 3 months ago, I was in awe.

I didn’t believe that someone could actually look like that in real life. She looked so perfect and beautiful.

She was captured walking from her former campus in Oxford. She had on black jeans that covered her long narrow legs and a white cardigan that covered her upper frame matching the clothes with black ankle boots and a scarf that matched her book bag.

Her hair was shorter than it is now, sort of a bob and I thought her eyes were hazel but after a second look the emerald just shined through.

She didn’t have any make-up on and it was obvious because the thick field of her long eyelashes made her look doe-eyed. Her lips were pouty and her smile was infectious and exposed her sharp shaped premolars that made her look like she had vampire teeth.

In real life, she looked even better.

Daniellah Rose Le-Chasseur was a beautiful lady full of life, far from the woman I met yesterday on the altar.

Far from the woman I’m looking at now.

She is still incredibly beautiful, but it seems life has been drained from her.

For one, she is smaller.

She’s almost rail thin now and her heart-shaped face is narrow and more diamond-like. I've even noticed her ring is a little big too, even though I was told it fit perfectly before.

Two, her smiles don’t reach her eyes and her skin looks like it has never seen the sun.

She is the shell of the girl I was told about 3 months ago, the girl I saw.

Now, she's the person that hasn't genuinely smiled since we met.

“Aren’t you going to say you told me so?” Dani drops two pills in her mouth and takes the water.

Despite drinking 3 bottles of champagne alone, she was not a sloppy or showy drunk.

She was even sober enough to wipe the make-up off and wash her face before climbing next to me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

I thought she’d want her own room but she admitted that she hated sleeping alone and let me stay.

“Nope. You didn’t throw up, so we’re good." I pour her a second glass of water. "I can handle anything but puking.”

“Okay." She butters her croissant. "How long do I have to get ready?”

“90minutes but we can skip it, I’m not in the mood to be photographed.” The paps have been scooping around since we landed.

I even saw a few in a helicopter and some boats while I was sunbathing earlier.

“I have to go, it’s my duty” she chews. “What’s that?” She points at an envelope on the dressing table.

“Nothing.”

“Hugh,” She pushes her tray away and sighs. “If this is going to work, we need to be honest with each other. What is that?”

“I was on a call with the family lawyer this morning, apparently what you said about your dad trading—”

“—me for a hotel? Yeah, I wasn’t kidding.” She shrugs so nonchalant that I don’t know how to take it.

It’s like she’s given up on everything.

“I didn’t know. My family didn’t tell me.” When our lawyer confirmed there was an arrangement between our families, I was livid but also glad she already knew about it.

“I know.” She sighs. “But why were you talking to the family lawyer? Drawing up annulment papers already? Is that what those are?”

“No, he called me and actually had those delivered. It's a prenup.” Dani literally freezes. “They haven’t filed our marriage license yet so they wanted to be sure I still didn’t want one.”

“What did you say?” She resumes eating.

Is she serious?

“The truth, which is that you are a princess with more money and assets than me so if you didn’t ask me for one, then I won’t either.” I stand up, pick the envelope up and rip it in half. “You’re my wife, what’s mine is yours.”

I toss it in the metal bin and light it up with a match.

Daniellah's family is not only old money, but she’s royalty. A prenup doesn’t make sense for either of us if we're really going to do this.

“Till death do us apart,” she stands and walks to the bathroom with her croissant.

I’m having a glass of whiskey on the deck when she walks down in a navy strapless gown with a high slit and a sweetheart neckline covered in lace. Suede ankle strap heels in her hand and a champagne glass in another.

Her light make-up highlights her face perfectly and her messy low bun exposes the diamond studs on her ears that compliment the massive rock on her finger.

It even catches the light and almost blinds me when she puts her glass down.

I wonder how she feels about it? I sort of think it’s ridiculous but I also chose it so that’s stupid to think.

I just wanted something fit for a princess.

“You look—”

“Let’s get this over with.” Dani downs her glass and replaces it with her purse.

As if this honeymoon isn’t already taking the wrong turn to hell, my wife is now in a mood.

Of course, I’m the only one who gets to see it because every time a camera is clicking or someone who’s not security is in earshot, she’s smiling and holding my hand.

I was confused when we walked the red carpet to have her hands wrap around me and actually see her smile. I looked into her eyes to find the manic and empty look she wears with every smile.

She’s clearly good at this pretending thing because our wedding photos look like she’s really in love with me.

Keyword: look.

“Can you get me another drink?” I don’t realize my wife is talking to me till she fiddles with her ring and it nearly blinds me again.

Another thing that tipped me off that Dani is in a mood, she has had a drink in her hand since the moment we said I do.

Which is odd because I was told she barely drank before.

“Don’t you want to slow down?” I whisper.

“Please,” she cuffs my hand only to dig her nails in. “I’m really flushed and your sisters want to grab dinner after this.”

I read between the lines and signal one of the waiters.

It’s best to choose my battles.

“How’s married life little bro?” Barron asks, once my sisters take my wife away.

“It’s interesting.” I down my glass getting a scoff from him.

“That bad huh?” He laughs.

“Well Barron, Mrs Hilton the 3rd is not a challenge but—”

“An absolute sweetheart.” Nicky adds before I can finish. “She is working every person that we have thrown at her and they adore the crap out of her.”

The girls join us and immediately Dani latches on to my arm with a smile I wish was real.

“Your sisters are overreacting, everyone was lovely.”

“And she’s modest too. Hugh if you mess this up, I’m coming for you.” Paris cracks the table up as my wife connects her 9th glass to her lips.

Dinner after that is pleasant. A factor I know is possible because of the amount of alcohol in my system.

My wife barely eats and oddly, it worries me a little but I shake it off with a shot because I learned my lesson at the airport.

I didn’t realize how much I needed to be around my family or how much I didn’t need to be alone with Dani till it actually happened, so we are back on the boat by 2am with me smiling from ear to ear.

Just like last night, Dani goes to the bathroom and returns barefaced only this time she is still in her evening gown as I pull on my pajama pants.

“Can you unzip me?” She lifts her hair to reveal her back and I pull the zip down and stop by her lower back but she shakes her head, “please do it all the way.”

I follow her instructions and the zip leads me over the curve of her ass and stop till her dress pools at her feet, exposing her bare back and black lace underwear.

Without turning around, Dani walks topless to the bathroom and returns in my Brown university t-shirt that goes down to the middle of her thighs.

She picks up her dress and places it on the hanger and surprises me by also hanging my suit and dress pants that I just threw over the hamper.

“Water?” I offer when she begins to remove the decorative pillows on the bed and tosses them into an empty drawer.

“Thank you,” she takes the glass and I finish removing the dozens of pillows on our bed.

We sleep on opposite sides of the huge bed so there's ample space between us. I wake up before her since she is kind of a deep sleeper when she has alcohol in her.

I take it upon myself after my shower to run some errands and when I notice her rings move as she changes sleeping positions, I take them off and drop them off at the jewelers to get them resized.

After having breakfast with my brother and completing my errands, I pick them up and head back to the boat around noon with lunch for my wife.

I walk into the Master's to find Dani moving things around in our now messy room.

"Dani?"

“I can’t find them,” I step back when she looks at me because she's crying.

“I think I lost them,” she opens her bedside drawer and empties it.

“Hey, hey, hey” I pull her to me to stop her from moving her around. "Calm down and tell me what you're talking about."

Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy as I push hair off her face.

She must have been crying for a long time to be like this and even though this is the first time she has shown a real emotion since we’ve met, I don’t like it because she is crying.

“My rings.” she shows me her empty left hand before moving away from my embrace. "I think I lost them."

Wait, this is about the rings.

“I have them, I have your rings.” I pull out the velvet box from my pocket.

“What?” Her doe eyes move to my hand.

“I went to get them re-sized.” I open the box to reveal the two rings.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She grabs the box and restores them on her ring finger.

I’m glad to see them fit perfectly.

“You were sleeping and I—”

“I don’t give a s**t!” She actually raises her voice, “this marriage might be a farce but these actually mean something to me.”

They do?

“I was trying to be nice.” Why is she so mad?

“I was a wreck all morning looking for them.” She tosses the velvet box on the bed, “I could have gotten them resized myself if you saw it necessary even though it was not.”

“Lord, you’re such a brat.” I sneer no longer seeing the woman I walked into.

How can someone switch so easily.

“Excuse you?” She folds her arms. “I'm a brat because I'm mad you took MY ring? It's been what? 2days and already you’re an infuriating little shit.”

“Excuse you?” I mimic her stance.

“Look I get it, a week ago you were a bachelor. I also get that we have all these eyes on us now and a bar we have to live up to which you are not used to.”

There better be a but coming.

“But I feel those frustrations too. Not only did I change schools for you, but I changed my life to adjust to yours and I have accepted the hand that was dealt but I draw the line at my ring.”

“They might be expensive but they are just rings. The fact that we are having a fight about this—”

“They are not just rings! The day I got these I signed my life away.” She interjects her eyes moving to her hand, “these are the only things helping me keep it together.”

“That’s sad.” I immediately regret saying the words aloud because she walks to the bathroom and slams the door without uttering another word.

Later that day she changes rooms and sends a deck crew member to inform me that she is ‘sick’ and won’t be attending the rest of the festival.

She goes on to avoid me the rest of the week and exits every room I enter.

I am tempted to cancel the honeymoon all together. I am so infuriated by the time the week is over.

When we leave the boat to catch our flight to Milan, she connects our hands as we enter the car and immediately disconnects them once inside.

“So this is our marriage, you barely looking or talking to me in private but the doting wife in public?” I scoff as she opens a bottle of champagne.

“One can only hope.” She downs the glass in one swig.