Page 154 of My Dark Prince
I might have been more upset about it if I weren’t so laser focused on the fact that Oliver dumped me without a word. He hadn’t updated his social media since that airport post with Sebastian, but that didn’t stop me from obsessively checking a few times a day.
Jason’s embezzlement trial would begin in Argentina soon, so he and my mother flew there. They sold the summer house in Geneva, and when I’d begged for them to let me tag along, my mother had huffed, slapping her thigh.
“Briar Rose, you are eighteen. Way too old to hide behind your mother’s skirt. We can barely afford our own tickets. We’re flying economy, for goodness’ sake.”
They left me behind, without as much as an offhanded good luck. Left me broken, broke, and terrified. I was all alone in the world.
I spent the first couple days couch surfing at an old tutor’s house before renting out a studio apartment in Zurich. I figuredI could work there for a year, save up some money, and go to college in America.
Since real estate in Zurich was outrageously expensive, I managed to get a discount by taking a side-job cleaning the entire four-story building and penthouse basement once a week. On top of that, I got a job as a barista at a small café on Bahnhofstrasse and busted tables at a gentleman’s club over the weekend.
I worked, and I worked, and then I worked some more, trying to push away Ollie’s betrayal. But the more I thought about how we parted ways – without a breakup conversation, without a valid reason, without a proper goodbye – the more I started to resent him.
He knew my situation.
He took my virginity and bailed to America, leaving me without clothing to go home in.
The boy I gave my heart and soul to turned out to be nothing but a hedonistic bastard.
And yet, there was still a tiny, idiotic sliver of hope inside me that there was a good explanation for all of this. That Ollie wasn’t really the bad guy.
When I wasn’t working, I applied to scholarships and grants. Since I had good grades and plenty of recommendation letters, I managed to get a full ride at Baylor.
The first time I read the acceptance letter, I felt nothing but emptiness. I’d read it in my kitchenette, which was also my bedroom, bathroom, and closet. I sipped my weak tea – the filth I made with a reused teabag – and nodded to myself.
I’d come to terms with the fact that I would never be happy and fulfilled.
So, I settled for surviving.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Briar
Revenge was a dish best served cold.
Mine would be served on an ice cream platter.
When Oliver returned home with takeout he’d driven an hour for, he found me in the kitchen scooping homemade coconut and honey ice cream into a waffle cone I’d dipped inside white chocolate and coated with sprinkles.
I shoved it in his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All yours.”
The mere sight of him after four days of not seeing him left me wheezing. He was so gorgeous in his casual black V-neck and smart slacks. And those veins that zig-zagged up his forearms, and the hint of his six-pack through his shirt, andgod, those well-built limbs.
Okay. I was extremely sexually frustrated simply knowing this man existed in the same zip code as I did, let alone the same roof. But that didn’t mean I’d forgive him just for being hot.
Ollie’s eyes tapered. He flicked them down, studying the cone. “What’s the catch?”
I topped it with a cherry. “No catch.”
He folded his arms with a frown, which made his biceps pop even more. “Everything okay?”
“Fantastic.” I smiled from ear-to-ear. “Please, let me know what you think about my ice cream. It’s a special recipe.”
“A special recipe that includes arsenic trioxide and phosgene?” He scanned my face, looking for anger or annoyance.
I didn’t mention anything about theNew York Timesarticle to him, not that I’d seen him in days. The afternoon I’d found out about it, he’d dropped off my udon and fled before I could confront him.
“Come on.” I pouted. “Where is the trust?”
