Page 68 of Twisted Prince

His eyes scan hungrily down my body, reminding me of how little I’m wearing. My skin crawls at the crass appreciation, then a sneer twists his lips as he comes to a stand so he can look between me and Gleb.

“Why not? Do you have feelings for this man? Is he the reason you turned me down when I said I’d marry you?”

Gleb’s head snaps over his shoulder to look at me from where he kneels, his eyes teaming with emotion. Stomach sinking, I realize just how bad the situation is, how terribly I miscalculated Vincent Kelly.

He’s not just some sexual deviant looking for some easy pussy.

He’s crazy.

Because he actually meant it when he said he would marry me. And I was too stupid to realize that until right now.

When Gleb’s life is on the line.

And I can do next to nothing about it.

“Maybe I should kill him. Then nothing would stand between us,” Vinny says, his tone turning speculative as his cruel eyes focus on Gleb once more. “Besides, I can offer you far more than he ever could—wealth, comfort, luxury. What do you say, angel?”

Heart shattering, I turn up my charm as I rip my eyes from Gleb’s captivating green ones. “I’d say he’s just not worth the mess someone will have to clean up. He could never stand between us, and I definitely don’t have feelings for him. You’d be doing me a favor by kicking him out. But I see no point in killing him. He means nothing to me.”

I can feel the tension rolling off of Gleb, the way his gaze burns into my very soul.

But I can’t look at him.

If I do, I’ll cry.

“Prove it,” Vinny says, stalking closer to the glass. “Say you’ll marry me.”

It’s as if all the oxygen leaves my small cage at once.

My lungs burn, and the ground spins beneath my feet.

I plant my palms against the glass to keep me standing. And to save Gleb’s life, I utilize every ounce of my strength to keep my voice steady.

“I’ll marry you,” I breathe.

29

GLEB

I didn’t feel the blow Fedor landed to my gut during the fight, or the burning pain in my shoulders from the pressure my half-brothers applied to my arms behind my back. Or the humiliation of being brought to my knees—even if they outnumbered me four to one.

All I can feel is the sting of Mel’s words. The second she uttered them, all the air was sucked from my chest. And right now, I’m having a hard time believing it will ever come back. That I’ll ever be able to draw another breath.

Hearing that Mel doesn’t care for me, that she would rather marry a man who would throw his money at her than be with me, cuts me to the bone. It reinforces all the times she’s insisted she doesn’t want me, all the times she’s run from me, all the hesitancy she’s shown in accepting my help. How many times did she tell me, but I was too blind to see?

I’ve been deluding myself this whole time, thinking she wants me.

Every sliver of encouragement she fed me was probably fabricated to get me to lose interest and leave.

And all the while, she kept telling me.

But I kept pushing.

So, she used the best defense mechanism she has in her arsenal.

What else could I expect of a woman who’s been taught that her sexuality is the only thing men understand?

Anytime she felt desperate, she turned on her charms. She made me feel alive, so I would hear her. The connection I thought we had was a weapon she used against me, a defensive technique—it wasn’t love.

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