The Prince by IsabelleB.
Another Gold Digging Life-Changing Stranger
Disclaimer: CI is not mine. I got the idea for this story, ironically, by reading The Burning Series. This story is, therefore, the spin from the beginning of that book mixed with the ideas of Machiavelli totalitarianism – weird, right? But I always thought of Sebastian in this princely manner, and I thought it'd be interesting to see Sebastian use those moral concepts from Machiavelli's book "The Prince" in trying to seduce Kathryn. You'll understand when you read the story. I don't own the Prince or the Burning Series.
AN: If this story looks familiar, it's because it is. Yes, this is BebeluvSpikey. I've come back from the land of dead fanfiction to give it one more try. I love Cruel Intentions and therefore I have this unresolved eagerness to tell this particular story and hopefully there are still members to read it. Enjoy and review. I've written about 8 chapters already.
Summary: He was always accustomed to getting everything he ever wanted. What he wants now isn't accustomed to giving in to anyone else's needs.
"He who is the cause of another becoming powerful is ruined." – Machiavelli
A pair of piercing blue eyes scanned through the endless sea of faces filling the club, and boredom was apparent on his face. Two weeks, maybe more. At this point his memory seemed to fail him. He couldn't remember how long he had been like this; when the days begin to melt together, he had lost track of time. Each night was the same thing. Meet a girl, seduce a girl, and leave her in her own misery. The truth was he was the only one miserable. The monotony of sex: the same thing he had treasured in his youth had become his ultimate downfall. The downfall he now called his life. To say he was bored was an understatement.
He was categorically miserable.
He had hoped a visit to Atlantic City would brighten his spirits but it hadn't. The flock of girls had just made him more pathetic. Now he paid girls for their company. There couldn't be anything worst than that. For the first time in his entire life he prayed.
His only request was an early death.
Something he was sure would happen soon with all the alcohol floating around his stomach. He was on his second bottle. Drowning in your misery took at least four.
"So how'd you meet her?"
Sebastian Valmont looked up at the question and frowned. He really wasn't in the mood for another round of honesty; especially since he had had a powerful round of truth a few hours ago. He found it kind of funny how his life had crumbled in the course of a day. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.
It was karma well served.
Taking a puff from his cigarette, he asked, "Meet who?"
The tall charismatic man finally took a seat beside him. "Well, you're obviously here because of a girl. Who is she and how'd you meet her?"
Sebastian scoffed. "I don't think telling a complete stranger my life story is on the top of my agenda right now."
"It might not be," The brunette said, gesturing the waitress over for a drink. "But you're in the middle of a strip club, looking utterly distressed. So something tells me maybe you should give it a try."
Sebastian looked away, giving his attention back to the stripper on stage. The only thing he wanted to try right now was the cute blonde on stage. "Fine then," the man said with a bright smile which quite frankly annoyed Sebastian beyond words. "I'll guess," he exclaimed rubbing his hands together as if this was some fun interactive game. "Your girlfriend, the one you're so heartbroken over, she's the marry them type."
The blue orbs of Sebastian's eyes clouded with confusion. The man chuckled. "I forget you don't know me. Let me explain myself a little more. There's two types of girls in life, buddy. The type you date and the type you marry. See that girl on the stage, the one with the fake breasts. She's the type you date. You don't take her home to your mother. And you don't plan a future with her. She's just an amusement; almost like a challenge or a conquest. But the marry them type of girl is different. She's little and few between. That's the girl you plan to have kids with. Your girlfriend was that type of girl. Am I right?"
Sebastian didn't answer but the answer was obvious.
"No, no," the man continued. "You were high school sweethearts, in fact. Am I right?"
When Sebastian didn't answer the man took it as a key to continue. "Let's see... And I'm going to go out on a whim here and say that you broke her heart." Before Sebastian had the chance to react, the brunette put his hands up in a defensive matter, and chuckled, "I know. I know. Its very cliché, the guy breaking the girls heart but I think I'm right on the money."
Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but closed it immediately. There was nothing to say. He had had the perfect life, it was true. He was rich, handsome, a senior in college with the most beautiful girlfriend imaginable and now what was he? Now -- he was nothing. He had ruined it all for a girl who wouldn't even speak to him. Starring at the man who had bought up all these vile memories, Sebastian's anger immediately surfaced again. "It wasn't like that," he finally voiced. "She knew what she was getting into."
The brunette smiled again and gleamed with sparkle in his brown eyes. "Good. We're finally getting somewhere."
"So how did such a good girl fall in love with a bad boy like you?" The man said jokingly as Sebastian stuffed wads of cash in the underwear of the girl who was currently giving him a lap dance.
He shook his head, and for the first time in months Sebastian laughed. It was real. "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea."
The man laughed as well and then silence followed. As Sebastian watched the blonde female called Candy head off to service her next customer, he passably sobered up. Why was he sharing his secret with this man. A stranger.
He had no idea who he was currently with, besides the fact that he was disgustingly nosy and enclothed in well woven Armani. He wondered why he hadn't dismissed the prying stranger in the first place. Then he remembered when he saw a stunning brunette walk on stage. She held a striking resemblance to his ex; a girl that no matter how hard he tried to forget, would always be apart of him. Kathryn Mertueil had ruined him. And now he didn't care. Nothing mattered now that he had ruined his chances with her. So if an arrogant prick wanted to spend time prying into his business who was he to stop him.
Taking a quick sip of his imported beer Sebastian grumbled, "We were in high school together. Her name was Annette Hardgrove. She was my first real girlfriend. I thought I could never love anyone like I loved her. She was... perfect."
"Then what went wrong?"
Sebastian sighed. "Everything."
Silence lingered once again.
"Not to be impatient," The man sighed, taking off his pricey coat in an effort to make himself at home. "But are you going to tell me the story or am I going to have to guess all night? Because I think I kind of figured it out already. I just need you to confirm the axiom that you call life."
Taking one last inhale of the cigarette Sebastian narrowed his eyes and sneered, "I'll tell you my story. Just wipe that goddamn smirk off your face."
Deception, in general terms, had never been a hard concept for a man like Sebastian Valmont. He loved it (and what wasn't there to love about a superb lie), he embraced it and, in all honesty, he thrived on it. Having mastered the art of deception since the age of twelve, he had used his techniques on every person he had encountered. Everything he needed was given to him, everything he wanted was handed to him and any women he desired fell at his feet. And those who didn't comply, those very few, weren't around to talk about it. All who had laid eyes on Sebastian Valmont had fallen victim to his predatory ways.
At the age of fourteen, Sebastian had wanted a Jaguar. His father, thinking it was a joke, teasingly bought him a Hot Wheels car instead. Sebastian's father no longer found it funny when Sebastian threatened to tell his mother about the older Valmont's secret meetings with his Brazilian secretary. The next day, there was 1956 Roadster for the underage adolescent sitting in his driveway.
On his fifteenth birthday, Sebastian was convinced that his grandfather's six hundred million dollar empire belonged to him. Unfortunately, he had three uncles, two aunts, and his father to share with. Sebastian didn't like sharing. With a little alcohol and the help of his brazen stripper friend, his grandfather's will had been drawn up that same night. By the time his parents had found out about it, the old geezer had croaked, leaving to Sebastian all of his fortune.
Sebastian stopped in front of the steel gate that stretched the length of the sprawling white mansion. Through the enormous front window he could see the partygoers in fancy dress. It was brighter than day inside the ballroom. Limousines waited in line by the entrance to let off their passengers. A row of servants in uniform stood ready to assist them.
These were the wealthiest people in New York City. Taking a deep breath, Sebastian straightened his Armani tux, strode up to the gate, his eyes on the entrance. He began to walk toward the house. From inside the open double doors he could hear laughter, the click of glasses, and the soft music of Dido. These sounds were being repeated all over the town. It was New Years, and all of New York was celebrating with gigantic balls, debutante parties, and wild, noisy street parades.
His piercing blue eyes scanned through the endless sea of faces filling the room, and he was already bored. He had hoped moving to New York would brighten his spirits but it hadn't. The flock of girls here were just as dull as they had been in Europe. The blondes were airheads, the brunettes were boring and the redheads were too willing; everyone was too predictable.
Still, this was a new city for him and he was confident that his boredom would end. His smile remained confident as he handed his coat to the servant and moved into the ballroom.
He studied the young women, such beautiful women, with their straighten hair framing the sides of their glowing faces. Their beautiful dresses swept across the shiny floor. Their voices chimed brightly. Their laughter tinkled like the clink of champagne glasses. As Sebastian started to make his way toward the center of the room, a servant lowered a silver tray in front of him. "Champagne, sir?"
"No, thank you." Sebastian stepped past the servant, his eyes on two young women in silk dresses against the wall. I have more somber business here than drinking. Turning on his most charming smile, he made his way to introduce himself to the two young women.
"Nice dress."
And that's all it took before the two girls were practically fighting each other to stick their numbers down his shirt. He sighed. It would be the same paper he would use to wipe his nose later on.
Subsequently, he made his way across the crowded, noisy room toward the central hall – and then stopped short in the doorway. A wide stairway, its banister festooned with yellow and white daisies, stretched up to his right. And standing on the bottom step, facing him as she leaned over the flowers, was the most beautiful girl Sebastian had ever seen.
She had brown hair, lustrous in the light from the chandelier above her head. Sebastian could see her flashing green eyes, catlike eyes above a perfect, slender nose, dark full lips, high, aristocratic cheekbones, and the creamy white skin of her shoulders revealed above the lace-edged top of her tight-fitting red dress.
A crimson red dress. Most of the other young women had selected pink and white and yellow. This one stood out boldly in her red. Sebastian moved closer, staring intently at this striking vision. Suddenly he realized that his mouth was dry, his knees weak. He wasn't sure if he had the words to approach her. It was a feeling Sebastian had never experienced. The young woman was still leaning against the banister, talking to another young woman, tall and frail looking in a pink satin dress. The two kept talking, seemingly unaware of Sebastian's existence.
"What is her name?" He was so smitten, so stunned by the feeling sweeping over him, that Sebastian hadn't realize he had spoken the question aloud.
"That is Ms. Merteuil," an elderly man with a white mustache replied, eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. "You've been invited to the best party in town and you don't know who the Merteuil family is?"
"Merteuil," Sebastian muttered, ignoring the man's question. "Thank you."
Since the time he was born, Sebastian Valmont been treated like a Prince. He had grown up in a big house on a hill, attended the nation's finest schools, been pampered by his devoted parents and rummaged through some of the world's finest women. He had always gotten exactly what he wanted. And at this moment – there was nothing he wanted more than Kathryn Merteuil.
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