Page 44 of Breathtaking

“Don’t bother, Lennon.” The air of arrogance constantly surrounding Monty is thick with condescension today. “How can you be this stupid? Honestly... use a condom. Take a Plan B. Two different sources confirmed your pregnancy before drinks were served last night. Perhaps if you’d used the king’s doctors, you’d have been able to keep it quiet longer, but I’ll bet you don’t want dear Grandpapa to know you’re a lying, cheating, dirty whore.”

I rock backward as if taking a physical hit, and tears fill my eyes.

Not with sadness.

With rage.

No one has ever spoken to me like this before.

“Get out,” I scream and point to the door. “I refuse to speak to you right now.”

But instead of leaving, he gets in my face and grabs my arms, scaring me.

We’ve disliked each other for years, but he’s never touched me in anger before.

We barely touch unless it’s in public, and even then, I attempt to avoid it as much as possible. But this... this isn’t us putting on a show for the public.

I try to pull away, but he yanks me closer, bruising my skin and my pride. “Listen to me, princess.” The word reeks of loathing. The kind of revulsion envy never fails to become. And envy is a Hasting’s family trait because Monty’s family has all the political pull they could ever want, but what they don’t have is royal blood. That’s what they’ll get by marrying their prized pig to a princess. He becomes a prince, and our children become heirs to two thrones.

He hates me for that, almost as badly as he hates how much he needs me to get it even more. Monty might be a duke, but that’s only because money can buy you just about anything in this world, fancy titles included. But money can’t buy you class or love or a royal bloodline. Not unless you sell your soul, which is what we’ve done. “You are not going to humiliate me or my family like this.”

For the briefest of moments, I think maybe he’s calling off the wedding, and my fury turns to joy before my blood turns to ice with his next sneer.

“I’ll call my mother tonight and tell her to move the wedding date up. We’ll tell the world we were so blissfully in love we couldn’t wait another minute. By the time the bastard comes, they’ll be so feral for a royal baby, they won’t even care that it was conceived before we were married. The world will never know what a filthy whore you really are, and when the kid is old enough, we’ll ship it off to boarding school. Hopefully, it’ll be a girl because no dirty little bastard is getting my title.”

With hatred clouding my vision, I yank my arm free. “They won’t need it. My children will always outrank you. Be careful who you’re calling a whore, Montgomery. Only one of us has slept with the entire court, and it’s not me.” I yell back as fury and fear fight for control. “Oh, and don’t worry, I hear they make a pill for that little...problemof yours. I’ve heard a few women talking about it.”

A pain explodes in my cheek so quickly, I fall to the floor, shocked.

My hand flies to my face as tears fill my eyes, and my cheek throbs in time with my pulse while pain ricochets in my skull.

Monty stands over me, red-faced and furious. “You had one job, Lennon. Look pretty and shut up. That’s it. That’s all you needed to do. But you just had to go and spread your skinny fucking legs for some commoner. Now I’m going to have to raise a mutt as my own.”

I sit up, trying to catch my breath, praying Maria will choose now to let herself in but refusing to placate this miserable shit. “Fuck you, Monty,” I spit back. “He was more of a man than you could ever be.”

I don’t see the kick coming.

I underestimated his cruelty.

That’s my mistakeis the last thought I have as my head hits the corner of the coffee table, and the world around me goes black.

* * *

Maddox

Rome and I are sparring at Crucible Saturday morning when my phone starts ringing from the edge of the mat, where it’s tucked inside my hat.

“What the fuck? I told you to keep your shit in the locker room.”

“Funny.” I duck as he throws a jab. “I don’t remember caring.”

We circle each other as Lucky yells, “Less talking. More hitting.”

“Fuck you,” we yell back at him in sync.

The ringing stops and immediately starts up again. “Unless it’s Mom, you better fucking ignore that shit,” Rome threatens like he scares me. Dumbass.

Lucky leans over and looks. “Not Mom.”

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