Page 24 of The Unlikely Heir
I type my reply quickly.
Who is dead to you? Is this some kind of random murder mystery game where we’re supposed to work out the identity of the victim instead of the murderer?
Scott’s reply is almost instantaneous.
You haven’t seen the interview?
What interview??
He sends me a link to a TV clip.
My fingers numb, I click play.
It’s Cliff. Cliff sits looking relaxed in a chair as he faces Zander Charles, the legendary news presenter who is almost as well-known for his slick white hair and beard as he is for the celebrity interviews he conducts. He looks like a professional Santa Claus moonlighting as a talk show host.
“How long have you been friends with Callum Prescott?” Zander asks Cliff.
“About seven years. Since our freshman year of college.”
“And you know him well?”
“Oh, definitely.”
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I stare at the familiar smirk on Cliff’s handsome face.
“So, tell us about the Callum that you know,” Zander’s smooth tone invites confidence.
“Well, to be honest, he’s always been something of a joke in our group.”
I stagger back, my legs hitting the edge of my bed as I sink onto it, unable to tear my gaze away from the screen where Cliff, my supposed friend, talks to Zander Charles about me.
“Why has he been the joke?”
Cliff snorts. “He’s just a really weird guy. He gets obsessed with random things and won’t talk about anything else, boring everyone to death about a particular topic, and then the next time you talk to him, he’ll be obsessed with something else.”
Nausea has set up camp in my stomach. It might have even pitched a tent and lit a fire in there. And the marshmallows being roasted taste a lot like betrayal.
“How do you think he’ll do as the Prince of Wales?” Zander asks.
Cliff laughs derisively. “Callum has the attention span of a gnat. He changed majors five times in college. He never sticks at anything.”
“So you don’t think he’ll last long in the role?”
“No, I don’t. I hope his brother is ready. Something will come along to distract Callum, and he’ll chase that instead.”
I swallow. Hard.
“Did you know he’s the son of Prince Michael?” Zander asks.
“Yes. He used to brag about his family all the time. He’d use the fact he’s in the succession line for the royal family to gain attention.”
A flash of anger bolts through me to mix with my hurt. That’s unfair. I did not do that.
“Have you talked to him since he learned he’s now heir to the throne?”
Cliff’s smirk grows bigger. “I talked to him yesterday. He said the British were like an alien race.”
I let out a groan that sounds like a noise a squirrel would make if you stepped on it and drop my phone into my lap. I place my hands on my head, trying to take some deep breaths.
