Page 10 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

I rest my arms on the counter and offer her a friendly smile, which softens her a bit. It’s something I’ve learned how to do over the years—charm people with my smiles and good looks. Finn is way better at it, though, and does it more frequently. But he can also act on his flirting. I can’t.

“There’s this girl back in one of those cells,” I say. “She’s probably around my age. She has dark hair, is tall, and really pretty.”

“Okay,” she replies. “What’s the question?”

I shift my weight. “I was just wondering if she made bail, and if not, I’d like to pay for hers.”

Her brows rise in surprise, but quickly even out. “Let me see if I can figure out who it is.” She rotates her chair toward the computer and clicks a few keys. “There’s only one young woman in the holding cell right now. The other two are much older.”

“That’s got to be her then.” I reach to retrieve my wallet out of my back pocket. “How much is her bail?”

“It’ll be about five hundred dollars.” She watches my reaction.

I don’t even blink as I take out my card. Money has never been a struggle for me. It’s the strings connected to it that have caused the issues.

She smiles as she grabs the card, but I detect the slightest bit of detesting envy in her eyes. This happens a lot, especially on northside.

“And can you keep this anonymous?” I ask, not wanting anyone to find out about this.

She nods and then swipes my card.

A few minutes later, I’m approaching Finn in the waiting room.

“What’s that look on your face for?” he questions, zipping up his jacket.

“What look?” I question, glancing at my watch.

It’s late and I’m hoping that’ll lower the risk of paparazzi loitering outside.

Finn lifts a brow at me. “Okay, play dumb then. But just an FYI, you’re not very good at it.” He throws me a grin as he backs toward the glass exit doors that lead outside. “I am, but you’re not bro.”

He’s right. Finn is great at fitting in wherever he is. Me? I stand out like a single cloud in a sunny sky. I’ve been deemed the brooding one, the intense one—the untouchable one.

“I’m not playing dumb,” I try to lie to him anyway as we push out the doors and step into the crisp night air?—

Flash.

Click.

Flash.

Blinding lights flicker across the darkness blanketing the outside.

“River, over here,” a guy holding a camera says.

I look the opposite way and find more cameras pointed at me.

The paparazzi have found out, which means our father will find out about our little outing tonight.

We’ve been caught and the consequences are going to be brutal.

Maddison

Music is booming through the house, the volume so deafening that the floors vibrate with the bass thumping. Usually, I like music, but the sound of laughter and the occasional shrieking, manic laughter has me on edge.

My parents are having a party, like they do every weekend. During these times, I’m instructed to lock myself in my room. Normally, I’m okay with that, but this particular party sounds like a bunch of lunatics have locked themselves in a padded room and are going insane. They’ve also been at it for over twelve hours, and I’m hungry, bored, and I have to pee.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. Standing up from my bed, I pad over to my bedroom door and unlock it. Then, sucking in a breath, I open the door. I immediately get overwhelmed by the stench of smoke and rotting food. But that’s pretty typical for my house, so I ignore it and step out into the hallway. A couple is making out just a ways down, but they’re too distracted to notice me, so I make a beeline into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

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