Page 286 of Bad Prince

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“She is not your concern.”

Clean.

Precise.

Final.

Then—Emmanuel steps just slightly closer.

Not aggressive.

But enough.

“She is mine.”

The words don’t echo.

They don’t need to.

They land.

Heavy.

Absolute.

Tristan’s jaw tightens.

Tics.

Fire flashes in his eyes.

And I feel it.

All of it.

The pull.

The pressure.

The power.

Two men.

Both used to leading.

Both used to claiming space.

And me—standing between them.

My breath catches.

Because this isn’t just attention.

This isn’t just tension.

This is—something bigger.

And for the first time—I don’t feel small inside it.

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