Page 100 of Breathtaking

God, I fucking love this woman.

“Transcontinental, poppet,” Atticus teases as an attendant dressed in a formal royal-blue uniform lets himself in the room.

“Sir, Mr. Hastings is outside.”

“Please escort Mr. Hastings in.” Rhys looks at us and nods as I take Lennon’s hand and pull her against me.

I take her other hand in mine and brush my lips over her ear. “I love you, and this needed to happen.”

“If I’d have known I’d have to see him today, I’d have brought his stupid ugly ring to throw at his stupid ugly face.”

“Very mature, sister. Would you like to call him a doody head too?” Atticus jokes, and Lennon, like the proper princess she is, flips him off.

Rhys sits down on the couch while the rest of us quiet down and wait.

LENNON

The true opposite of love isn’t hate.

It’s complete indifference.

You no longer matter to me.

—Lennon’s Secret Thoughts

Ibrace myself for the hatred I expect to seep into my bones when I see Monty for the first time since he assaulted me, but it never comes. My former fiancé is escorted into the sitting room, and the rage that rolls off my husband and brothers is strong enough to feel, and yet I no longer care.

I wouldn’t wish what he did to me on anyone, but I’ve moved past it without even noticing. This man no longer holds any power over my life. His presence here is insignificant at best, and that brings a smile to my lips.

Watching him bow to Rhys doesn’t hurt either, in reality.

Maddox pulls me against his side, blocking Monty’s direct view of me.

Ever my protective dark prince.

“Have a seat, Montgomery. I believe we have some things to discuss.” Rhys pulls a folder from the end table and throws it down between him and Monty.

My former fiancé’s cold eyes leer at me, seething, and I simply smile in return.

I definitely got the better end of the fallout from our engagement, and I’m not even a little bit sorry.

“What is this?” he asks as he picks up the folder before Atticus clears his throat.

“Your highness,” Atticus warns. “What is this,your highness?”

Okay... well if we’re being technical...

“Actually, it’syour gracenow,” I add with a bit of satisfaction I hadn’t expected to feel at the chance to correct this douchey duke.

Okay, maybe I don’thatehim, but antagonizing him isn’t so bad.

Monty bites his tongue as his nostrils flare, and he finally begins to flip through the folder, his ruddy red cheeks darkening with each new page that he skims. Once he gets to the end, the folder is slammed back on the table, and he stands, blustering, “It’s nonsense. None of that is real. I never—we never. My family business isn’t a criminal empire. Elections haven’t been tampered with.”

He takes a step forward, and Rhys clears his throat the tiniest bit, causing one of his protection officers to make a matching step forward, and Monty blanches and sits back down. After a moment, he gathers his composure and attempts to defend himself. “My family has never bought an election. This has all been fabricated. We can prove it.”

“Can you though?” Atticus asks, and I’m fairly certain it’s the first time Monty has ever been forced to realize he has no control over what’s happening around him.

“This would ruin my father... my family.”

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