Page 43 of Royal Crush

“We met up a few times in the canteen at the rehab center for shitty coffee and the one good thing they made there.”

“Marshmallow squares,” he said.

That had been in the book, though not in Hugo’s chapter. “He would always buy them for me like somehow I wasn’t a damn prince and he wasn’t a housekeeper on minimum wage.” My hands began to shake, and I dug my fingers into my thighs, desperate for more sensation just to distract myself from the pain behind my ribs. “I felt special. I felt like all the things I’d been afraid of were bullshit. We went on an official date about three weeks after we met. I wasn’t ready to tell my parents, but after our second date, I brought him home with me.”

“This is where you had your?—”

“My first time. Yeah.” Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it back. “He was attentive. He made me feel sexy. He paid attention to my legs and my dick, but nottoomuch attention. He was careful with the catheter. He kissed around it so I wasn’t at risk of an infection or anything.” My face bloomed hot. It felt strange telling Aleric all this—but it also felt cathartic. OnlyRoget knew these details. “He left before the changing of the guards, so no one else saw him.”

“Did your parents find out?”

I shook my head. “Not until—ah. Later. I was busy over the next month. A bunch of engagements and appointments. He always seemed to be nearby, which bothered me.” I tugged at the seam of my trousers. “But I told myself it was fate—it was romantic. We’d make eyes across the room, and he’d text me after. Nothing seemed odd, but also, everything seemed odd. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Aleric said.

He probably did. He’d probably had stalkers for years.

“He started getting a little irritated when I couldn’t make time for him, so I canceled this polo event with my brother, and we got takeout and went back to his place. He didn’t have an elevator, so I let him carry me up the stairs.”

“Shit,” Aleric breathed.

I almost laughed, but even after all these years, it still wasn’t funny. “He didn’t bring my chair up, but I told myself not to worry. I have a panic button on my phone and a GPS chip that won’t break even if the phone shatters. We were in his place for about half an hour, but he seemed…off. He kept touching my legs and my dick through my pants, and I was having an off day, so I didn’t like it, but the more I seemed to get irritated, the more it—ah…” God, why was this so hard?

“Turned him on?”

My stomach roiled, but that was the right answer. “He wanted to see me fight back—he wanted to see me struggle. It was athingfor him. He got me on the floor and pinned me. He didn’t last long, which was the better part, but when he was done, he yanked my catheter out and made me piss myself.”

Aleric’s eyes flew wide open. “What thefuck? Tell me he went to jail.”

“I was humiliated, and I didn’t want to tell anyone that the first guy who was interested in me was some sicko with a fetish,” I told him, my voice hard and defensive. Of course he didn’t get it. Of course he would judge me. I wrapped my arms tightly around my middle. “I told him he could get me downstairs, or I could hit the panic button and have a bunch of Royal Guard members storming his flat. He chose wisely.”

For a moment, I wasn’t even sure Aleric was present in the room with me. Then he let out a slow breath. “I get it.”

Unable to stop myself, I scoffed. “It’s fine if you don’t. No one does.”

He bowed his head, and I saw something in his face that I immediately recognized. Shit. He was telling the truth.

“I was assaulted on a casting couch,” Aleric said. “Literally. I was twelve. He was…I don’t know. Forty? Fifty? I felt…grown up at the time, you know? I was allowed to drink and smoke and do whatever I wanted. I was bolder than I had any right to be at that age.”

My stomach twisted hard. Twelve? When I was twelve, I was still in goddamn short pants. “Aleric.”

“I won’t get into details, but I understand the humiliation of what you went through. He told me my fear made me a little baby. He said I was too sensitive when I started crying and that sensitive boys didn’t make it in the world of film. I believed him. I didn’t tell anyone. I was so ashamed.” Aleric’s voice cracked, and I had a sudden urge to find this man—this fucking piece of shit producer—and make sure he was unrecognizable by the time I was done with him. “I didn’t tell anyone until years later when I had my first decent therapist. I’ve worked through so much of the pain, but sometimes I get angry at myself for being so embarrassed that I kept silent and let him get away with it.”

Bowing my head, I took a breath. He did get it, and I hated that he did. I was counting on me being the only one holdingthat kind of weight, and the thought of him knowing what all of that felt like created a rage for him that I had never felt for myself or my own circumstances.

But now, I could speak. I could go into details because he would understand all of it.

“Cillian knew something was wrong,” I finally told him. “He knew I’d never willingly leave my chair in some random lobby. To this day, I think he’s still a little resentful that I haven’t confided in him.”

“He would have killed that man, wouldn’t he?” Aleric asked with the smallest smile.

“Yeah. He would have. Without a second thought.” I had a feeling there had been no one in Aleric’s life to notice that something was wrong. At least no one who would have stood by him, and that made my rage worse. “So, this producer?—”

“No,” Aleric said sharply. “I’m sorry, Your Highness?—”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Not right now.”

He met my gaze and held it. “Camillo.” Fuck, I loved the way my name sounded on his lips. “It’s not worth it, and there’s no point. He died about ten years ago. My therapist thinks if I speak out, other former kid actors that he hurt might come forward too, but I just—I don’t want to be the poster child for all this. That probably makes me a selfish bastard, and I get that. I can accept not being the best person in the world if it means protecting what little peace I’ve managed to create for myself.”

---