Page 21 of Royal Sin

“You don’t have to say anything.” He settled into the chair across from me, his gaze drifting to my laptop screen. “What were you writing? You were so absorbed you didn’t hear me approach.”

“The battle scene,” I admitted, closing my laptop. “The shadow prince and his forces are fighting to protect the villagers.”

“And the mortal girl?”

“She's there, watching, her power building but unusable—they’re not speaking to each other after she sacrificed her humanity to become the thing she hated to save him.”

“She’s going to fucking destroy them.” There was a teasing light in his eyes.

“Maybe. I think she has to suffer too.”

“If you say so, little author.” He chucked under my chin and left.

I touched the pendant resting against my collarbone, emotion tightening my throat. No one had ever given me something so personal, so thoughtfully chosen. It wasn’t about the value—though I suspected it wasn’t inexpensive—but about the fact he’d seen it and thought of me.

I’m in over my head.The phrase was on repeat in my mind.

The truth of that thought settled into my bones with an uncomfortable weight. This hadn’t been the plan. I was supposed to use Leonard as a pawn in my rebellion against my parents. Instead, I found myself caring for him in ways I hadn’t anticipated—enjoying his company, craving his touch, valuing his insights about my writing.

My phone buzzed with a text from my mother: “Don’t forget the Carmichael Gala tomorrow night. Wear the blue Valentino. And be home soon so we can discuss the details before our guests arrive for dinner.”

Reality crashed back. The Carmichael Gala was one of the biggest social events of the season. Everyone who was anyone would be there—including Leonard, most likely. The thought of seeing him across a crowded ballroom, pretending not to know him while my parents paraded me in front of “suitable” young men, made my stomach twist.

I touched the pendant again, drawing strength from its presence. Something had to give. I couldn’t do this.

The Prestons, the Larsons, and the Astors gathered in my parents’ living room for cocktails and finger foods before dinner. Because I’d been determined to finish the battle scene, I’d been late coming home. There was no delaying the inevitable, and after some primping, I sailed into the crowd.

My mother waited by the door and the moment I was through, she snatched my wrist. “Where have you been?”

I met her stare and counted to ten in my head. “I’m sorry, Mother. I lost track of time.”

“What—” She plucked at my necklace.

I smacked at her hand, rearing back. “Don’t.”

Her eyes widened, but she kept back the explosion that otherwise would have rained down on my head. “That looks cheap and tacky. Take it off.”

I decided right then and there that I never would. It didn’t matter what happened, I was keeping it. “I’m going to say hello to the guests.”

My parents never understood me. I didn’t know why I expected them to.

But this thing with Leonard…it was becoming real. I shivered before flashing a fake smile at the matrons of the three families. What would he do when he finds out? That is the flaw in my plan; he might not accept me and this life.

I’ll have to make him understand.

The thought of losing Leonard made me physically ill. I touched the pendant again, drawing comfort from its weight against my skin. Across the room, my father caught my eye and gestured impatiently for me to join him.

“There she is,” he announced as I approached. “Gentlemen, you remember my daughter.”

Five middle-aged men in expensive suits nodded politely. I recognized them as board members from competing media companies—potential allies in my father’s latest business strategy, no doubt. Mercifully, Paul Preston the Third was not standing beside his father. He was away with the boys for the weekend, according to what his mother was telling another woman as I came into the room.

“We were just discussing the Baldwin situation,” one of them said, his eyes calculating. “Your father tells us you’re studying business. What’s your take on these aggressive acquisition tactics?”

My mouth went dry. “I—"

“Annaliese hasn’t been following that particular matter,” my father interjected smoothly. “She’s been focused on her studies.”

I felt a flash of anger at being dismissed.

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