Page 61 of Stolen Princess

“How about another drink?” he offers, keeping way too fucking close to her.

“I’m tired.”

I catch the side of his smile as he drags an aw-shucks hand through his hair. “Women don’t typically say no to me.”

“Seems to be a common theme with men I’ve met lately.”

I smile to myself at that. My feisty girl.

“Come on. One drink. We’ll talk. Nothing more.”

She quickens her steps, and I move in closer, no longer giving a fuck if either of them spots me. He’s making her uncomfortable. Probably scaring her.

This time, she doesn’t answer.

“Did I do something wrong?” he presses, playing another angle. He’s not as good at this game as I am. Not as charming. Way too aggressive. We’ve done two jobs together in the last six months, and I’ve been the one who’s gone in and done the social interactions with both of them. Sven is the computer guy and completely antisocial. Despite the fact that they’re twins, Lars is the muscle. The ruthless one.

The killer.

It’s why he’s here, and Sven is out looking for the sister. Lars is also as dumb as a brick and usually high as hell on weed, which I’m hoping he is now because it’ll make his reactions slower.

My plan was to watch her from a distance. Then fucking Lars had to show up, and there’s no way she won’t see me if he makes his move and I have to step in with her there. Except the more I see her, the longer I watch her, I want her to see me. I want her to yell at me for being an asshole because that means I upset her, and she feels something. Something real.

She’s seen me and wanted me anyway. I’ve never had that before. Not with anyone, and I fucked it up. Genevieve and I are going to have to have a serious conversation after this. She has no reason to trust me. And I’ve never trusted anyone before. Not ever.

But my princess is different. Everything about her is to me.

“Come on. Tell me. What did I do wrong?”

“Not listen when I told you I wasn’t interested. Now scram.”

“Sorry, honey. I can’t do that.” One hand dives into his pocket while his other grabs her arm. She yelps and tries to jerk away, but he hauls her in against him and jabs something from within his pocket into her side.

He leans in and whispers something in her ear, and alarm spreads across her face like a Shakespearean tragedy.

Her head swivels left and right, noting the street and the people and trying to calculate how to get away from him. Somehow she doesn’t look over her shoulder, and because of that, she misses me completely. He must realize she’s about to scream or do something, and he tugs sharply on her arm, making her whimper. I glance behind me and across the street. No one’s behind me, and the people across the street aren’t looking this way.

I slip my knife and gun out, holding the gun down at my side. I quicken my steps, and my heart picks up speed while the back of my neck prickles with adrenaline. She tries to pull away from him, glancing about in a panic, and that’s when our eyes meet. I get a funny look for a flicker of a second before recognition takes over, and she realizes who I am.

Her lips part, and I shake my head. Except it’s too late.

Lars glances over his shoulder, and our gazes collide. He grabs her arm and jerks her in tighter against him, and I move in fast, the knife in my hand but held behind me.

“I’ll kill her,” he warns. The gun in his pocket stabs into her side, making her chirp out a squeal, but he’s distracted and unaware of his surroundings because he was surprised I was here. He genuinely thought I was gone. This is why he let me toss him the tiara and run off.

He’s sloppy.

Careless.

Arrogant.

And it’s about to cost him.

In a flash, I grab the back of his hair and wrench it to arch his neck.

His hand releases her arm and flies back for mine, gripping my wrist, and I shore up my hold, pulling tighter on the roots of his hair.

“Fuck! Let go of me or she’s dead,” he barks. “You’re fucking dead for this. You know that? You will die, and there will be no talking yourself out of it.”