Page 91 of Filthy Hot Prince

It didn’t feel right. It felt forced. All her actions felt forced.

“I am trying to… to—”

I kissed her forehead, caressing her body through the dress. “You don’t have to try with me, sweet one. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

Valeria didn’t reply, her fists scrunching my shirt.

“Let’s watch a movie and cuddle, okay?” I asked, her chin dipping in a nod as I took her inside my room, settling her against the pillows.

We watched a Disney movie with audio descriptions, her head against my chest as she cried with the princess in the movie. I was content that Valeria was trying so hard, but I didn’t know what I could do to help her. It was tearing me apart as if I was watching something terrible happen to her from a sideline.

Valeria

I woke up with someone’s arm cinched around my waist. My entire body froze as I swallowed the urge to scream and touch the arm. I sighed when I felt the strong veins of Khalid’s arms, his tall body spooning me from behind.

I hated that I couldn’t recognize him every time he tried to touch me.

Standing up from the bed, I went to the bathroom, stripping out of the dress that I had worn the night before for the dinner date. Untangling my hair from the braid, I opened the cabinet of bath oils.

Biting my lip, I took a small glass bottle and opened it, taking a sniff. Nothing happened. I still couldn’t smell. In anger, I poured it all into the bath. Taking another bottle of oil, I took a sniff and when I couldn’t smell anything, I poured it into the bath.

No matter what happens, I am getting my sense of smell today.

I repeated my actions, taking a bottle, sniffing it and pouring it all in the bath. I was angry for not protecting myself. For getting into the accident, the people who adopted me dying, leaving me alone and blind. For trusting Mark with me, who used my body and died before I could get my justice. For not fighting back and getting hit on my face only to lose my sense of smell. The only thing that I felt was important to me about my body.

I emptied all the exotic oils in the bath, turning on the tap and searching for the perfume bottles I had placed in Khalid’s bathroom suite. I took the spray bottle and sprayed it in the air. A frustrating sound left my lips as I sprayed it again, all around me, waiting to smell the wooden or oriental notes.

Nothing happened.

“No,” I sobbed, my hands shaking as I struggled to open the perfume bottle, wanting to pour it on my skin so I could—

“Valeria!” I pulled away when Khalid tried to touch me. “Stop it. You will hurt yourself.”

“I can’t smell anything, Khalid. Not even those oils or the perfume that I gifted you. The one that I designed myself.”

I was crying, fat tears rolling down my face as I struggled to open the bottle.

“Valeria, it’s okay. Give me that bottle. You will hurt yourself.”

I hated the pity in his voice.

I threw the bottle against the floor, the sound of glass shattering ringing in my ears as I broke down. Khalid held me before I could fall on my knees, taking me in his arms as I sobbed.

“I hate that I can’t see or smell anything, Khalid,” I gasped, his hand raking through my hair as he hushed me. “I don’t know what to do. I hate it. I feel empty and useless.”

“You are not empty or useless—”

I felt the warm trickle on his face. I touched his cheek, hearing the small wince from his lips. My heart beat increased, my body freezing.

“Did the glass hurt your cheek?” I asked, my voice low and weak.

“Valeria, it’s not—”

“It did, didn’t it?” I shook my head. “I hurt you.”

“It’s okay, my sweet. It was a mistake. It’s a small scratch.”

I knew he was lying to me. I said nothing when he showered with me, washing my hair and drying my body with a towel before telling me to stay on his bed, wearing his clothes as he went to fetch our breakfast after cleaning the pieces of glass from the bathroom.

I couldn’t even help myself and I had managed to hurt the person I love. If I had my sight, I wouldn’t have thrown the bottle of perfume to the floor that hurt his cheek. If I had my sense of smell, none of it would have happened.

I called My Benjamin to book an airplane ticket for me.

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