Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I smile.
Del gives me a sharp elbow in the stomach.
“What?”
“Did you have to terrify him?” she asks.
“I gave him a two hundred dollar tip; he’ll survive.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, a little fear always breeds a lot of loyalty.”
Her face falls. “You would think.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean—”
“We should get to our room.”
Our room.
The one we are going to have sex in.
The one we will share for a week.
I can’t find my voice, so I nod instead and go through the doors that are held open for us at The Goldmoor Inn, apparently one of the most romantic Bed and Breakfasts in the US.
I instantly start to get nervous when we’re greeted with champagne and privately escorted through the lobby.
Two men flank us. They’re wearing black suits and have the ever-present earpiece dangling from their ears. I’m used to it by now and suddenly breathe a sigh of relief that my dad thought ahead.
The last thing the Families need is the heir to the fucking Kingdom dying on his wedding night or getting hit.
I’m used to it though, I am.
I’m used to looking over my shoulder on a minute-by-minute basis. I’m used to assuming everyone’s out to get me.
I’m used to being used or people attempting it.
I wish I wasn’t.
I wish that this was a normal wedding night.
I wish my life was normal too, but that fades into black every time I try to imagine what it would even look like to not have retired secret service following me around to the point that I can’t even get a drink without them sitting, watching, waiting.
“You are never safe,” Dad said. “Ever. Don’t assume people are your friends; they aren’t. Don’t assume they care; they don’t. Don’t assume you’re loved; you aren’t. Use the world around you in a way that wields power. You trust your mom. You trust me. You always trust family, but even then, son, even then… people can betray you, so at the end of the day… you only trust yourself.”
I was five.
I went to bed and cried myself to sleep that night, then was so scared one of my cousins was going to choke me, despite how close we were, that I hid in the closet with a knife pressed against my chest, waiting for someone to hurt me, to betray me.
When kids are little, they’re afraid something’s under their bed, a boogeyman of sorts, a monster.
I was scared of my own family.
I remember when Maksim found me, my adopted brother. I remember the look on his face like he was afraid too.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, holding out his hand. “You can sleep now.”
“I can?” I asked, afraid to trust my best friend, my brother.
His smile was sad. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Promise?” My hands shook as I held out the knife to him, afraid to trust but needing to sleep.
He nodded. “I’ll die for you.”
“I don’t want you to die.”
“But that doesn’t matter,” he said. “Because it’s true. I’ll die for you, even if the only reason for my death is your sleep.”
He was always so eloquent, even at a young age.
I took his hand, and I never looked back.
I took my brother’s hand, and I swore I’d do everything to be better for this family, to create a world where our kids didn’t have to sleep in closets for fear of being betrayed.
Money. Power. They kill even the purest of souls, and I’ve been trying ever since to make sure that we do it even better than our parents did.
I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly so tired it hurt to walk.
We get in the elevator.
Del must notice that I am exhausted even though I look alert as hell. She reaches her hand into mine and squeezes.
I’m afraid to look down at our joined hands the entire walk to our suite. I’m afraid, just like I was afraid when I was five.
I’m afraid that I’ll be back in that closet, not because she’ll betray me but for something far worse.
For the stark reality that I’m facing of her loving someone else, and that brings me back, back to that place of not knowing what to do, clenching that knife in my hand, ready for attack.
But this time, I have no foe except my own stupid heart and its inability to stop beating for her over and over again.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“Are you okay?” she asks once we walk inside the gorgeous suite with its fireplace lit and champagne waiting on the table, chilled along with an array of food.
“I’m fine.” I lie. It’s what I do now. I lie. I tell people I’m not bleeding out when I can’t stop the blood from flowing. And I look the woman I love in the eyes and tell her it’s going to be okay.
While bleeding out.
The future is not what I dreamed of.