Page 62 of Princessa
“Look, Grayson. I want to know why you won’t give me a chance? I mean, since our parents made an arrangement and all, don’t you think it only fair you get to know me? Give us a chance at being together before you make things final with…what’s her name? Oh, right.A-ra-bell-a?” God, I hated saying her knock-off Twilight name.
Dark eyes glared at me and, for a minute, I thought his head would explode. “Any chance of you and I being together got blown to fuck the minute you decided to ride my best friend’s cock.”
“I was drunk!”
“For three days? Bullshit. The only substance you were drunk on was greed and setting your sights on whatever throne you thought was within reach.”
“Well, he wasn’t your friend now, was he? Prince Drake of Monaco didn’t think twice about sleeping with me.”
“Oh, he thought about it alright.” He paced the floor. “Thought about getting an easy lay. Then, he properly dumped you.”
He advanced toward me, and the only place I could back into was the wall.
“And that’s when you took your relentless ass to Buckingham Palace.” There was bitterness in his voice as his eyes leveled on mine. “Only they could see your conniving ways, knew you were the type that wanted to sleep her way to the throne. Theysniffed out your washed-up cunt like a hound dog does drugs.”
“Fuck you, Grayson,” I hissed.
“It’sPrinceGrayson.” His lip curved up into a sardonic smirk. “And no, thanks. Tramps have never been my thing. And we all know your twat has seen more heads than a barbershop.”
He backed away, but I could still feel the cloud of indignation between us.
What he said was true. Every bit of it.
And I hated him for calling me out. I wanted to hurt him. Make his heart bleed. Slice his fucking pride the way his words sliced mine.
“Obviously you’re content with your precious,A-ra-bell-a. I’ll leave you to your happily-ever-after then.”
Tromping to the door, I spun around. “May I at least use your restroom before I go? I drank way too much coffee on the way here. Please?”
Raking his fingers through his hair, he gestured toward his bedroom. “It’s in there. Five minutes, Iris. Then I hope to never see your ass again.”
