Page 33 of Shameless Royalty

“Sure you do,” he says with a laugh. Then his tone softens again. “Come visit us for Christmas, Connor. It’s been too long since you were here.”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says firmly. “Come here and spend the holidays with me and Maddy. Marina’s here, too, and doing better. We’ll get Gio and Chiara here, and you can even bring Cat along; I’m sure she needs her friends. It’s quiet on the estate. You both need this.”

I open my mouth to decline, but the words catch in my throat. My first instinct is to stay—Malachi’s been consuming too much of my headspace lately, and leaving might just give him more room to take over. But… Mihai’s right. I need a break.

I rub the back of my neck, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t know, Mihai. Leavin’ Malachi with Da doesn’t feel right.”

“Declan can handle it,” Mihai says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you clearly need to get out of your own head. When was the last time you stopped to breathe, Connor?”

“Does it count if I held my breath underwater to see how long I’d last?” I joke, though the edge in my voice betrays me.

“Connor,” he says, and just my name in that steady, unflinching tone is enough to make me exhale.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s a shitshow here. Every time I turn around, Malachi’s doin’ somethin’ to get under my skin.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Mihai says, his voice lighter now. “You’ve got nothing else to think about except him.”

“I wish Icouldstop thinkin’ about him,” I mutter, though the words come out more honest than I intended.

Mihai doesn’t comment on that,thank fuck.Instead, he says, “Come to Romania. We’ve got plenty of snow and good food, and Maddy’s been asking about you.”

That makes me pause. Maddy. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, longer since I’ve seen her. Back when she couldn’t speak, we’d bonded in our own way—me trying to get her to smile, her offering quiet company when I needed it most.

“She really asked about me?” I ask, my voice softening.

“Yeah,” Mihai says, and I can hear the faint smile in his voice. “She misses you, Connor. So do I.”

The words hit me square in the chest. I’ve always been close to Mihai—closer to him than to anyone else—but hearing him say it outright is different.

“Fine,” I say, exhaling slowly. “I’ll come. But if your old man makes me drink that godawful ?uica again, we’re gonna have words.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Deal. I’ll make sure the good stuff’s waiting for you,” he says, relief clear in his tone. “You won’t regret it.”

“I already regret it,” I mutter, but there’s no heat in the words. “Just don’t expect me to wear one of those stupid Christmas jumpers.”

“No promises,” Mihai says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice before his voice softens. “Should I… if everyone is going to be here, should I—”

“Invite Nikolai. It wouldn’t be a proper Crowns Christmas without him there, too,” I say, surprising myself with how lightthat makes me feel. Nikolai has made his move, it would be unfair of me to cut him out of this.

I hear Mihai breathe out a sigh. “See you soon, Connor.”

“Aye,” I say quietly. “See you.”

I set the phone down and lean back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. Going to Romania and spending time with my boys might just be what I need. Mihai’s always been my anchor, the one person who knows everything—my preferences, my secrets, the parts of me no one else gets to see.

Deep down, I know the real reason I agreed. I need Mihai. I need my best friend. Because right now, I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water, and if there’s anyone who can pull me out of this mess, it’s him.

Chapter 20

Malachi

Therainpeltsagainstthe window, blurring the view of the estate below. The gray sky is heavy, stretching down to meet the equally gray ground, and everything in between looks washed out, lifeless.

It’s cold, the kind of damp chill that seeps through the glass and bites at your skin no matter how high the heat is turned up. Winter’s shaping up to be a miserable one, but that’s nothing new.

I press my forehead against the glass, watching with blurry eyes as the trees sway in the wind, their bare branches clawing at the sky. This feeling has gradually grown—feeling sluggish, like I’m carrying around a weight I can’t shake off. And I know exactly why.

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