When Fangirls Cry by Marian Tee Page A

didn’t wait for him to ask what she was talking about. She said painfully, “You know who Vania Coolidge is in my life, don’t you?”
    There was the smallest flicker of pain in Saffi’s eyes, but Staffan hardened himself against it. Whatever he fucking did would be nothing in comparison to the damage she had wrought in his life. He had fallen for her like a fucking idiot, had begged her to come back like a fool, and all that time she had probably been laughing at him behind his back.
    Nineteen-fucking-years-old and she had easily wound a man in his thirties around her privileged little finger.
    The memories stung, and it forced Staffan to clench and unclench the fist he had under the table to release his anger. When he was certain he had himself back in control, he told Saffi, “You know what they say.”
    Her head cocked to the side – such a fucking innocent gesture that used to turn him on, but now all it did was turn his stomach, reminding Staffan of the times she had so easily seduced him into believing she loved him.
    The barely concealed contempt in Staffan’s hazel eyes made Saffi swallow, but she still insisted on asking, “What do you mean?”
    “About the enemies of our enemies being our friends,” he taunted softly.
    He expected her to get mad, to look hurt---to want to get even. But Saffi only gave him what looked like a pained nod, as if it took everything in her to do that one small thing.
    “I understand.” It killed her to say the words, but she told herself she owed it to Staffan. She looked up to say more, but the words died in her throat as she saw Staffan’s gaze drifting past her and settling on one of the garden exits of the restaurant, where Vania stood chatting with a small circle of friends.
    As if sensing Staffan’s regard, Saffi watched Vania turn to them.
    Her dark green eyes flashed with malicious triumph before she smiled at Staffan, wetting her ruby-red lips once more. The carnal invitation there was already blatant, but it was obviously not enough for Vania, who mouthed to Staffan, Join us .
    Every second that played out was like a scene straight from her worst nightmare – one she couldn’t wake up from. It just continued, like an unstoppable wave that was only meant to torment Saffi.
    Ah, this really…hurt. It so freaking hurt, more than the time she had caught Staffan pleasuring another girl. This time, the hurt was made more unbearable by the knowledge that maybe – maybe she had it in her power to prevent all this. But Saffi had turned her back on that chance because she had been too much of a coward.
    Staffan hadn’t mouthed an answer back. She should be glad of that, but that was pretty much impossible too, seeing how Staffan smiled at Vania. His air of assurance, the raw sexuality of his presence, combined with his beautiful seductive smile – all of it was more than answer enough, making the other woman swallow.
                When Staffan returned his gaze to Saffi, not having to feign his reluctance because there was nothing he disliked more now than spending even a moment’s time with the little bitch, he uneasily discovered several changes in her appearance.
                In just a few days’ time, it was as if she had lost a ton of weight. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, making her appear wan. She looked like she had been fucking shoved down one time too many, and the realization didn’t sit well with him.
                It fucking pained him to look at Saffi now. He wanted to shout at her, wanted to demand how the hell could she want the prince over him when he was obviously not treating her right?
    “You should eat more,” Staffan said, even though he was unable to keep his tone from being snide. “Royal babies can’t be fucking starved---”
                Saffi interrupted with quiet conviction, “Jeremy is not the father of my baby.”
                His fist crashed against the table, which