Hollywood Princess (Hollywood Royalty #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hollywood Royalty Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“Did Rachel get anything back from the flowers?” I ask Hunter when I get into the truck, and he just shakes his head. I pull the truck out of the airport and make my way over to the penthouse I borrowed for the week. “I’m taking time off after the tour,” I tell him, and he looks up from his phone. “I don’t know for how long, and I’m sorry to leave you on the spot, but I can’t.” I don’t finish my sentence.

He smiles and then continues typing on his phone. “We kind of figured that out when you almost put me through a wall after I led you away from her.” I look at him from the side. “You’re lucky I didn’t stab you in your sleep.”

I laugh. “Like you can sneak up on me,” I tell him. “You wish.”

“It’s hard to sneak up on someone who hasn’t slept in a week,” he points out. “Dante says they just got to her apartment, and the whole place is full of flowers.”

The hair stands up on my neck, and he sees that I’m gripping the steering wheel harder than I should, turning my fingers white. “Relax, they are all from her friends and record label, congratulating her on a good tour.”

He turns his phone, and I see that flowers are scattered throughout her whole apartment. “Those are all from her friends? Are they female friends?” I ask, and he laughs softly, but then looks back at me, and his smiles goes away.

“Do you want me to ask?” He looks at me, not sure what to do, and I just shake my head. “I don’t know why I suddenly feel like I’m in high school again and I have to pass a note to the girl that says do you like him yes or no?” he says, and then both our phones go off. I look down and see it’s from Dante.

My eyes are focused on the road. “What does it say?” I ask him, and he looks at me.

“Apparently, your girl has an itch and needs to go shopping. He says you owe him, and he’s cashing it in next week.” I laugh as I zigzag through traffic and then pull up to the penthouse where the doorman comes out and greets me.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Brian,” he says, and I smile at him. I’ve known him since I was about seven. “Last time I saw you, you had just enlisted.” I nod at him. “Thank you for your service. I take it your father forgave you.”

“You can say that,” I tell him, smiling. “He gave me the okay to be here, so”—I toss him the keys—“thank you.”

We walk into the marble lobby, getting into the special elevator that takes you all the way to the three-floor penthouse. I grab my phone and text Cori.

Me: How is she today?

She answers right away.

Cori: She’s the same, ignoring it. She isn’t sleeping even if she pretends she is.

Me: I’m in New York.

Cori: I’m not surprised. We are going shopping, and she has dinner with Tommy tonight.

Me: Keep me posted.

Cori: I will.

“So where do I stay?” Hunter asks from the living room. “I can see all of Central Park,” he says, and I look up.

“The guest floor is through that hallway and down six steps,” I tell him. “I need to get things set up for tomorrow night.”

“So you really think it’s going to be a good idea to get on the plane with her when she takes off?” My plan is to ambush her while in the air.

I shrug my shoulders. “She can’t jump out of the plane,” I tell him.

Turning and walking out, I stop when he says, “But she can throw you out of one.” I have no doubt she probably will, but I’m not letting her go without the biggest fight of her life.

“I’ve got an errand to run,” I tell him, and he just nods.

I walk to the store I’m looking for and ring the bell. The door buzzes to let me in. An hour later, I’m walking out of the store with a black box.

I get back to the penthouse and send Hunter a message that I’m back, and he comes up to meet me. “Rachel is sending over the tape from the hotel. She said she doesn’t see anything, but maybe we will.”

“This guy is slick, I will give him that. He’s been a ghost this whole time,” I tell him, and he just nods at me.

He leans into me and whispers, looking around. “You know there is a woman who came to my room and offered me fresh towels.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking at the email. “There is also a butler who hangs around here somewhere.” I flip through the internet with her name, and she was right. I was very much forgotten the next day. Pedro, the butler, comes in and goes to work organizing our dinner. When I finally get to my room, I collapse on my bed.


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