Page 209 of My Dark Prince
“Why now?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, tipping his head down as he mumbled something.
“Come again?”
More mumbles.
“I can’t hear you, Seb.”
He finally stared up at me, his face tight and his usual armor of sarcasm slipping just for a moment. “I miss her, too.”
You little shit.
A giant smile consumed my face. I couldn’t help it. Cuddlebug was so damn lovable. The wildest part was that she never believed me when I told her. How could she not? Even the grouchiest motherfucker on the continent wanted her around.
“Me, too, bro.” I hopped onto the cushion beside Sebastian, patting his shoulder. “Me, too.”
“You should get her back before some Hollywood hot shot with a bank account fatter than yours wins her over.”
“First – no one west of the Mississippi has a bank account fatter than mine.” I rubbed my jaw, forcing myself not to entertain Seb’s goading. “And second – I don’t need to get herback.She’s still mine.”
“She might not want you anymore,” he pointed out. “A lot can happen in twenty-eight days.”
I snorted. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe. You’re drunk, so I figured it’s worth a shot.”
“You’re a terrible therapist, Seb.”
“From all the terrible therapy you forced on me. It’s called osmosis.”
But I accepted his therapy for what it was. A fragile bridge. A rare offering from a man who could barely see past his own tragedy, let alone someone else’s.
I turned to face him, leaning against the back rest. “You know what this means, right? That I’ll be in Los Angeles most days.”
My mind raced with all the logistics. The Grand Regent headquarters belonged here. I didn’t know how I’d shift my work schedule around, but I’d find a way to stay by Briar’s side. Especially if Dad could help me out, assuming he managed to stay functional this time around.
“Just …” Sebastian’s breathing slowed. Each inhale seemed to drag out of him. “Come back forDays of Our Lives.I meant it when I said I’m not giving you a recap, asshole.”
Chapter Ninety-Six
Oliver
Trial Day Twenty-Nine.
I woke up with a vengeance, determined to make it to the West Coast before my girlfriend returned from her work trip tomorrow. The plane awaited me on the tarmac, all fueled up and ready to go.
Then, it all went sideways.
The second I stepped out of my door, with every intention of hopping on my jet and chasing down the love of my life, a pair of hands grabbed me from behind. They jerked me back, knocking my phone out of my hand. It skidded across the motor court.
Before I could react, a scratchy black hood swooped over my head.
I stumbled as my vision went dark. “What the hell?” My bag hit the ground with a dull thud as I struggled against the hold. “Romeo? Zach? This reeks of you shitheads.”
I’d long since turned off my phone, thanks to their constant harassment. In the past month, they’d taken to calling me like a pair of telemarketers who couldn’t catch a hint, leaving messages about the joys of marriage, my yacht, and other nonsense.
Another set of hands circled my wrists and bound them together with what could only be zip ties.
