Page 233 of Bad Prince
Spain.
Mexico.
Cancún.
Miami.
Hotels.
Glass towers.
Money.
Power.
And him.
Older now.
Gray at the temples.
Sharp jaw.
Dark eyes.
Tall.
Even in photos, you can tell.
Six-three.
Maybe more.
My stomach twists.
Because I see it.
In the structure.
In the eyes.
In something I can’t explain.
Me.
My pulse spikes.
Everything inside me?—
the anger
the confusion
the loneliness
Tristan
Isa
