Wicked Snow

Wicked Whitney's Warning

“Whitney,” I greeted coolly as she stopped in front of me and Sarah. She didn’t bother to mask the sneer on her face as she eyed me with disdain.

“Grimhilde, you look different from the last time I saw you,” Whitney said with a malicious smile.

“Grimhilde?” Sarah asked, the confusion clear in her tone.

“Oh, that was just the little nickname I came up with for Grace in high school,” Whitney explained. “She had these really thick old lady glasses, so I thought Grimhilde suited her better.” She chuckled as if she still thought it was hilarious– and knowing her, she probably did. The stupid thing was that my glasses were never even that thick, so I never understood why Whitney had singled me out the way she had.

I shared an irritated look with Sarah, the two of us not seeing the humor in the name.

“I see you finally got rid of the glasses though,” Whitney pointed out. “Good for you Grimhilde.”

Thanks to Whitney and her group of bitchy friends, I began wearing contacts when I started college, even thought they irritated my eyes. I never left the house with my glasses anymore because of the way they had made fun of me.

“And you haven’t changed at all,” I responded drily, making reference to the fact that she was still the same bitchy girl who had bullied me in school.

“I know,” she said with a conceited grin, not seeing the double meaning in my words.

‘Wow’, Sarah mouthed, and I had to bite my lip to contain my laughter. Whitney really was obnoxious.

“Anyway, I just wanted to come over and let you know that you shouldn’t get too comfortable,” Whitney explained with a smirk.

“Is that so?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m not about to let my mom be replaced by a slutty loser like you,” she said with narrowed eyes. “You better watch your back.”

“Listen Whitney, I don’t know what your dad told you, but I want this marriage about as much as you do,” I said, hoping she would just let it go. “I have no intention of trying to replace your mom.”

“You don’t think I know girls like you?” she sneered. “You all think you can worm your way into our lives, but here’s the thing,” she said, stepping toward me in an attempt to be intimidating. Unfortunately, she was a bit taller than me, so she got to look down at me while she ranted. “My dad might have fun with you, but he’ll never love you. You’re nothing more than a toy that he’ll throw out when he gets sick of you.”

“Whitney, I’m telling you that I don’t want this,” I said slowly and clearly. “I have no interest in worming my way into your lives.”

Her eyes were slits as she glared at me venomously. “I’ll have you out of the house within a month,” she promised, ignoring everything I had said. “You’ll regret ever setting your eyes on my father, Grimhilde,” she added threateningly.

“Trust me, I already do,” I muttered under my breath, too softly to be heard by her or Sarah.

“What did you just say?” she spat aggressively.

“Woah, back off,” Sarah cut in, putting her arm between the two of us, so Whitney couldn’t get any closer. “Just calm down,” she told Whitney.

Whitney’s lunge toward me had attracted the attention of a lot of people, including Kingsley, who looked extremely unimpressed at the scene. Only his glare wasn’t directed at Whitney, but at me. He must have walked off while speaking to the group of men around him, because he was too far away to have heard the confrontation between us.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Whitney whispered, before she burst into tears.

Sarah and I looked at each other in shock, unsure what the hell was going on. One minute she looked like she was ready to tackle me to the ground, and the next she was sobbing hysterically.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kingsley snapped angrily as he reached our small group.

I just stared at Whitney dumbfounded, not sure how to answer his question, but she used the question to her advantage.

“I’m so sorry, dad,” she cried through her sobs, which I was beginning to realize were fake based on the lack of any tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, but Grace…she…” Whitney looked down, seeming unwilling to finish her sentence.

“What did she do?” Kingsley bit out, glaring at me as if he had already decided on my guilt.

“She used to bully me in school,” Whitney said quietly, like she felt ashamed to say it. The girl was a bloody good actress. “She was calling me names and when I told her to stop, she… she said something bad about mom,” Whitney finished weaving her web of lies and putting the final nail in my coffin.

“She’s lying,” I said in outrage. “She was the one who used to bully me in school,” I explained to Kingsley, but the look on his face told me he wouldn’t believe a word I said.

“You know I wouldn’t do that, daddy. You believe me, right?” Whitney asked, looking up at her father innocently.

“Of course, sweetie,” he assure her, pulling her in for a hug. “Why don’t you wait over here, while I go talk to Grace?” he suggested, patting her on the back comfortingly. “I won’t be long.”

“Okay dad,” she said with a small smile, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. “I’m sorry if I ruined your wedding,” she added, which succeeded in making her look more innocent.

“No, honey. It wasn’t your fault,” Kingsley soothed her. “I’ll be back in a second okay?” he said, kissing the top of her head.

He turned his attention to me, and any softness that had been on his face while he spoke to his daughter, vanished. The look in his eyes was one that I had seen many times from my father. It was a look that promised pain, and that, more than anything else that had happened, made me nervous.

“I can explain,” I tried to reason with him, but he ignored my words as he grabbed me roughly by the arm.

He pulled me out of the ballroom, clearly wanting to confront me without anyone around to overhear.

“Your daughter is lying,” Sarah shouted from behind us, obviously having followed us from the room.

“And why the hell would I believe you?” Kingsley asked her rudely, continuing to pull me along until we reached a secluded hallway.

“Because I know Grace and unlike you, I heard every word your daughter said,” Sarah huffed out when we stopped.

Lucas and Daniel had followed us as well, but they stayed a respectful distance away, looking extremely uncomfortable and uncertain.

“I’m not going to trust some stranger over my daughter,” Kingsley replied, his jaw clenched in anger.

“I swear we’re telling the truth,” I pleaded with him.

“Why would I trust you after everything you’ve done, Grace?” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve tried your best to get out of this marriage, and you’ve made a mockery of me in front of the press. This sounds exactly like something you would do.”

I gaped at him, unsure how to defend myself. He was right that I hadn’t made it easy for him, but that didn’t mean I was some bully.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Sarah spat out. “Did you think you could just force Grace into marrying you, and she would just happily accept it?” she snapped. “Of course she’s going to give you trouble, but she didn’t do what Whitney said she did.”

“I’d like some privacy to speak with Grace,” Kingsley said impatiently. “Lucas, please escort this woman back to the reception,” he ordered the bodyguard, gesturing to Sarah.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sarah replied indignantly, making Lucas freeze awkwardly as he looked to his boss for instruction.

“I need a minute to talk to my wife,” Kingsley said through clenched teeth. “Is that a crime?” he asked Sarah drily.

My friend looked at me for direction, looking torn about what she should do.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a minute.” It would be better to just get this fight over with, so Kingsley’s anger didn’t get the chance to fester.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming back here to look for you,” she said, directing the words at Kingsley more so than me.

“Thanks Sarah,” I said with a grateful smile, loving that I had a friend who was willing to stick up for me.

She left to go back to the ballroom and Lucas followed behind her on Kingsley’s orders. Daniel stayed behind, but he retreated further away to give us more privacy.

“I am going to give you one warning Grace,” Kingsley said in a low, threatening voice. “If you ever do something like this again, you will pay. My daughter is off limits.”

“But I swear, I didn’t–“ I started to argue, but he cut me off.

“I don’t want to hear any more,” he shouted angrily. “I’ve had enough of your childish antics.”

“You’re not listening to me,” I tried again, just wanting him to at least hear my side of the story before he condemned me.

“Just shut up, Grace,” he snapped, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me roughly. “Just shut the f**k up!”

The violence of his actions and the loudness of his voice scared me into silence. Before that moment, I hadn’t truly considered the terrible possibility that he could be like my father. That he might raise his hand against me. However, the rage in his eyes and the aggression in his body language made me rethink that. If I had felt horror at having to marry someone I didn’t love, it was nothing compared to what I felt at the possibility that I had married someone abusive.

“I won’t warn you again,” he repeated before shoving me backwards and walking away.

I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall hard. I allowed myself to slide down to the floor, not ready to return to the party that was supposed to be in honor of my happy marriage. That was how Sarah found me, sitting on the floor and glumly staring into space.

“What am I going to do?” I asked her as she joined me on the floor.

“I don’t know, Grace. Did he hurt you?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, but he scared me,” I replied softly.

“If he ever lays a hand on you, you need to leave,” she insisted. “Please just promise me that you’ll call me if that ever happens, and I’ll help you.”

“I promise,” I responded. If it ever got to that point, there was no way I would stay, no matter what the cost.

“Good. Now let’s march into that ballroom with our heads held high, and show that b***h Whitney that this isn’t high school anymore and she can’t bully us,” she said with determination.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the world of the elite did function like high school, which became obvious when we walked into the room. The story of my role as the evil stepmother must have made its rounds through the room, because women I had never even met were glaring at me like I had killed Bambi. It seemed that gossip was a powerful tool that Whitney was still using to her advantage.

Sarah and I just stuck to ourselves for the rest of the reception, except for when Kingsley and I had to suffer through our first dance. We hadn’t rehearsed and we were both extremely tense, so it wasn’t the world’s most beautiful first dance, nor was it romantic. All in all, my wedding day was spectacularly awful.

Unfortunately, when it was time for me and Kingsley to leave, I had to say goodbye to Sarah and the comfort she brought with her. I promised to call her as soon as I landed in Paris the next morning and thanked her for helping me through the wedding. She gave me a huge hug before I got in the limo to go to the airport and told me to try and enjoy Paris even if I was going under bad circumstances.

“Send me lots of pics,” she ordered before I got in the limo.

“I will,” I promised, waving goodbye at her.

The tension in the car could have been cut with a knife, and Kingsley was clearly still furious with me. The drive to the private airport where Kingsley kept his private jet took about half an hour, but not a single word was spoken on the way there. I still couldn’t believe that we were flying to France on a private jet, but Kingsley Hall probably wouldn’t be caught dead flying commercial. When we got there, another car was idling next to the small plane and I eyed it curiously as we exited the limo.

“I hired you a bodyguard,” Kingsley informed me, gesturing to a man who had stepped out of the other car. “He’ll be joining us on the trip and will continue as your bodyguard when we get back to New York.”

“Umm… I don’t think I really need a bodyguard,” I said in confusion.

“I have bodyguards, which means my wife needs bodyguards,” he explained impatiently, as if that were reason enough.

I sighed in irritation, not knowing what the hell I would do with a bodyguard, because having someone follow me around all day didn’t sound like my idea of a good time. In a huff, I followed Kingsley to the other car to meet my new shadow. When the man turned to greet us though, I drew in a surprised breath. I recognized him. He was the guy I had met on the train– Hunter.