Page 21 of The Prince of Power

Hunter smirks. “I think a man who claims to be Godly and yet vanishes on unexplained trips is worth looking into. Whatever he’s hiding, it’ll be…interesting.”

Especially interesting with regards to Ava. Does she have daddy issues? She would have to with a father who’s gone all the time.

Maybe she needs a daddy to step in and give her what she’s always wanted. Comfort. Stability.

Affection.

Miles closes the folder and stands, waiting for dismissal. Hunter waves him off, and he leaves as quietly as he came.

I tap my fingers against the armrest. “What do you think she wants most?” I ask myself more than Hunter.

His expression doesn’t change. “Why does it matter?”

“Because,” I say, “I want to break her down completely. When I know what she wants most in the world, I’ll become it.”

8

Damian

She’ll be here soon, and my pulse has kicked up only slightly.

I’ve gotten a grip on my preoccupation with her these past few days. I no longer think of her constantly.

Her sweet defiance will lose its sparkle soon. I might as well accept it now. My fingers tap against my forearm out of impatience, not anticipation.

I ordered the decor of this ballroom to please her, and I never involve myself with event planning, but this time I told the staff to make the vibe feel like something out of a fairy tale. The kind of thing that would appeal to a bookish girl like her. And then there’s the gift I have for her. It’s in the conservatory.

It’s strange that I’ve done all these things. It’s too soon to be lavishing her with gifts, but then again, she won’t know they belong to her yet.

No, that will come later.

Tonight, I’ll make her fear me.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when a little brown head appears at the entrance of the ballroom. Is that her? As if pulledby an invisible force, I find myself walking down the staircase and into the crowd.

I fix my gaze on the entrance as I get closer, and there she is.

My little doll.

Ava weaves through the crowd. Rhett appears beside her a moment later, his hand possessively settling on her shoulder. My jaw clenches.

He knows his place, and yet he can’t seem to help himself when it comes to her. His proprietary posture is unacceptable.

Rhett smiles stiffly when I approach. “Lord Prior.”

I lean in close to him. “Hands off,” I whisper.

His spine goes rigid, but he promptly removes his hand from Ava’s shoulder and sets it at his side. She looks too distracted with the ballroom to notice.

Ava turns from the crowd toward me, and for a moment, her nervousness is obvious—her doe eyes wide and cautious. But then her jaw clenches. Those eyes spark like they did two days ago.

My stomach fills with heat.

That’s my doll. You’re scared of me, but you refuse to show it.

That’ll change soon.

“Would you like some wine, Ava?” I keep my voice gentle, gesturing toward the table behind us. “I won’t offer you my good wine. You already said it’s an abuse of power.”

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