Page 27 of Royal Sin

“Answer me,” Paul snarled, moving close.

I swatted his hand away and pointed a finger at him.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Paul, or I swear I’ll kill you,” threatened and shot past him.

Mercifully, he let me go.

I stumbled to my car, tears streaming down my face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. I’d planned to tell Leonard everything myself, to explain that what had started as rebellion had become something real and precious. Now that chance was gone, destroyed by Paul's smug intervention and the weight of family histories I hadn't fully understood.

The drive home passed in a blur. I tried calling Leonard twice, but the calls went straight to voicemail. My text messagesremained unread, their blue bubbles lingering like accusations on my screen.

The drive home was a blur of tears and traffic lights. My phone remained silent, the screen mocking me each time I checked it. Leonard hadn't read my message. He was shutting me out completely, and the pain of it was physical—a hollow ache in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

When I pulled into my family's driveway, I sat in the car for several minutes, trying to compose myself. The pendant felt heavy against my skin, a reminder of what I'd lost. With trembling fingers, I traced its outline, the tiny golden book that had come to symbolize something I hadn't expected to find.

Someone whom I could see myself being with—for real.

Chapter 12

Isat cross-legged on my bed, staring at my phone. Three days had passed since the disaster at Navy Pier. Three days of unanswered calls and texts. Three days of my heart cracking a little more with each passing hour.

“He won't talk to me,” I whispered to the empty room.

My fingers found the golden book pendant, tracing its delicate edges. I hadn’t taken it off since Leonard had placed it around my neck. Now it felt like both a treasure and a taunt—a reminder of what I’d gained and lost so quickly.

The worst part was that Leonard had been right to walk away. I had approached him with ulterior motives. I had kept my identity a secret deliberately. The fact that my feelings had evolved into something real didn’t erase my initial deception.

My laptop sat open beside me, the battle scene from my novel frozen on the screen. The flow of words had come to a complete and utter stop. The next sentence eluded me. Conscious thought ceased, and only my stupid heart beat with blood, none of it diverting to the higher regions of my body.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number I doubted would be answered. When Serena’s voice came across the cellular void, surprise flashed through me, quickly replaced by relief.

“Hi!” I breathed. “Can we talk?”

The annoyed tone from her greeting dampened my spirits. “What happened?”

“This is more an emergency, in-person thing,” I hedged, pushing my luck.

Serena sighed. “That’s not such a good idea. My brother has company over.”

“It will only take a few minutes.” I didn’t dare ask if we could meet somewhere for coffee—or better yet, a drink. Serena didn’t have a fake ID, but there were a few places where my Benjamins guaranteed service to minors.

“Hurry up, then,” Serena urged.

“I’ll be there in fifteen!”

“Don’t speed!” she warned, but it was too late. The phone was off, and so was I. If my friend was offering an olive branch, I was going to take it.

I bolted from the bedroom and rushed to my car. Thankfully, my parents hadn’t taken my keys. Oh, there had been threats. The past few days had been filled with shouting, with disappointment, and finally, their decision had been made. My immediate future was sealed.

And this conversation with Serena would end in a long goodbye.

I made good time thanks to every light being green. When I pulled up to the Mancini’s mansion, there was a matte black bike out front. Both her brother and his friend Dante rode them, so I didn’t think anything of it as I hurried inside.

Serena stood on the stairs. When she saw me, her stern look softened.

“Ah, shit, Anna, it’s bad,” she observed.

I managed to nod, not trusting myself to speak until we were in her room. She didn’t hug me, which was expected. Her family didn’t display affection in that way. She led the way, shut her door, and folded herself elegantly onto one of her chairs, but I didn’t feel like sitting.

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