Chapter Eleven

JAMIESON AND REBECCA are now officially a couple, and they've just announced they're having a baby. So much for him still being in love with me, but honestly?

I don't mind at all.

Because Zahir was right.

Jamieson and I should never have been a couple in the first place, and while I genuinely wish him and Rebecca happiness—-it's just so hard to make myself forget the look on her face when they were having sex.

In any case, people have been extra nice to me since our, um, uncoupling, and while it's true that my heart remains in pieces, this has nothing to do with Jamieson at all...and everything to do with the man who now seems to have vanished without a trace.

I've begged Hotel Aehrenthal for any information about Zahir, but they've cited privacy laws when rejecting my every request. The Kivran embassy is even worse; not only have they blocked my number, but they've also flagged my email address as spam.

There are times when I find myself wondering if it's possible that I've completely lost my mind, and Zahir doesn't actually exist. There are times when my memories of him are so vivid, but there are times when all I can do is cry.

Please, God.

I only leave my room when I have classes. Otherwise, I just want to be alone, either to cry or pray.

Please help me.

Please.

I don't know who else to turn to.

And that's when He finally answers me.

I'm seated next to my bedroom window, watching the foot traffic outside my dorm, and I'm writing in my journal when I catch sight of a crowd outside one of the university gates. It almost seems like a group of fans waiting for a celebrity to step out of the limousine, and... oh.

How could I have forgotten about her?

PROFESSOR MAIRI TANNER -Leventis gives me a surprised smile when I walk inside her office. She's a dark-eyed brunette in her thirties, and while just about every student in Christopoulos University adores her...

Internet trolls also love to bash her as the world's most notorious gold-digger.

But I digress.

She looks at me expectantly as I take a seat. "What I can do for you?"

"I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time..."

"Not at all."

"It's just I really need your help—-"

"Of course—-"

"—-as a billionaire's wife?"

"Not."

" Please, professor."

"Are you in debt?" the professor asks soberly.

I quickly shake my head. "It's not that."

"Oh, then..."

"There's someone you might know. Or someone who's a friend of a friend."

Her brows furrow. "Aren't you dating the reality star—-"

"We broke up."

The confusion in her eyes instantly into sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Alysse." Her genuine concern catches me off guard, and it's only when she hands me a box of tissues that I realize I've already started crying.

"I'm s-so sorry..."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Her gentle tone destroys whatever self-control I have left, and everything comes tumbling out.

"It's a-all just a mess, P-Professor...and it's a-all m-my f-fault..."

It's as if a heavy burden has been lifted off my shoulders by the time I leave her office, and with the professor playing my fairy godmother, she's also arranged for her own chauffeur-driven limousine to take me to where my heart is.

And that's Paradijs.

It's one of those hush-hush playgrounds exclusively built for the world's rich and famous, and I feel out of place as soon as I step inside. Everyone looks so incredibly posh, and even the club employees look like millionaires themselves.

I'm all ready to be judged and found wanting when I find the courage to approach the front desk, but the man behind the counter simply smiles.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Duvall. Welcome to Paradijs. Mrs. Leventis has already informed us of your needs. It will be our utmost pleasure to be of service to you."

"Oh, um—-"

A woman in her late twenties suddenly pops by my side. "Hello, Ms. Duvall. I'm Shirley, and I'll be your personal assistant for today. Shall we?"

"We...shall?"

And so off we go to...a salon?

I turn to her in surprise. "I don't think—-"

"Mrs. Leventis provided very specific instructions, Ms. Duvall."

"But—-"

"Very, very specific," she emphasizes, "and it is Paradijs' strict policy to meet our members' every request." Shirley smiles at me again and gestures to one of the vacant seats in the salon. "Shall we?"

I smile back weakly, knowing when I'm defeated. "We shall."

And that's how I end up having my hair and makeup done and my sweats swapped for a sparkly ballgown with a pair of honest-to-goodness glass slippers.

Oh, professor!

Shirley beams in delight. "You look absolutely gorgeous, Ms. Duvall."

I study my reflection in the mirror. The gown Professor Leventis has selected is a lot more daring than I'd ever choose to wear, but...

"Are you sure I look...okay?" I ask worriedly.

"You look more than okay, Ms. Duvall," Shirley assures me. "But we should get going if you don't want to be late for the party."

Did she just say... party?