Page 33 of Knot your Princess
When I’m ready to leave, Quinn helps me, letting me lean on him as I hobble out.
“Wait!” One of the nurses at the station calls out. “You can’t leave. You need to talk to the police…”
We both ignore her and keep walking. She can try to keep me here, but it’s not happening.
“I hate to ask this, but will he hurt Sophia?”
“Nah,” Quinn replies gruffly. “She means everything to him. He wants Cesca so he can kill her and claim the Calabrese family, and then he will come after me. It’s a trap that has been nicely laid out. I’m pissed because everything I’ve done to Sophia, keeping her locked away, was so that Enzo couldn’t get hold of her. Getting Trent’s predecessor to run him out of England and back to Italy was only a band-aid. I knew this day would come. I just didn’t know it would be so soon. Our intel had him still holed up in Siena. This is what I mean about him being a ghost. Not even Cesca will find him, but you can. Take what you know about your step-nephew and use it.”
I sigh inwardly.
Step-nephew.
My mother married Gino, Lorenzo and Francesca’s grandfather, when I was still little. They were ten years older than me, but Gino and my mother raised the twins until Gino got tired of her and let her go when I was about twelve. They were as close as if they had been stuck together with glue. But that all changed when Gino died twenty years ago and left everything to Francesca. His golden girl. Lorenzo was furious, and they have been in a bitter battle ever since.
I wasn’t even thought about except by Cesca, who took me in to guard Sophia when she was sixteen years old. I was thirty, fourteen years her senior, and I tried desperately not to fall in love with her, but it was impossible. I never once acted on my feelings for her. No one knew, no one suspected. It was my dirty secret that I had planned to take to my grave. But one day a few years ago, she practically pounced on me when the entire family was on holiday in the South of France. In her tiny black bikini, she was all woman by then, and I had no willpower, so was the depth of my feelings for her. I’m not a fool, though. I know she feels nothing for me. I’m an escape for her. If Aidan or Francesca ever find out, they will tie concrete to my feet and throw me in the lake.
“Nico.”
Quinn’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Find my baby girl.” There is absolutely nothing but darkness in his tone, and I know if I don’t come through, it’s the lake for me, regardless.
“On it,” I mutter as we reach the van, and he shoves me inside. I can only hope that it’s not too late when I do.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Sugar
Asoft knock at the bedroom door forces my eyes open. I’m snuggled up in my nest of pillows and blankets on the floor by the open window. I need the air because I still feel on the verge of an asthma attack. I reach for the inhaler, making sure it’s within sight, just in case. I think it’s been two days since my heat blew up, but I think it’s dying down again.
I don’t bother to answer because I’m still locked in, so whoever it is will open it anyway and come inside.
Unsurprisingly, it’s Trent. His sweet face pops around the door after he opens it a crack. “Can I come in?”
“You here for a bonk?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Not unless you’re up for one?”
“I think I'm okay right now.”
He has been the best alpha in the world, servicing me numerous times a day during my heat. My uncle has stayed well clear. I don’t know if he knows or suspects about Trent and me, but if he does, I wouldn’t know.
“You’re coming out of your heat already,” Trent says, closing the door behind him.
“I know. I don’t feel so knot-ravenous. I thought it would last longer, though.”
He shrugs. “Not an expert. My rut is fading. My body is reacting to yours, I think. Uhm, can we talk?”
Blinking slowly, I don’t answer right away. I’ve never been dumped before, mostly because I’ve never been in a proper relationship before, but I watch TV, and those words are never a good sign. He is here to tell me that the sex was great, but I’m not the omega for him.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
My primary emotion is embarrassment because I’m wearing his black t-shirt from the other day. I needed it on me to breathe in his scent, and now I feel like a fucking idiot. I shove my hair out of my face and sit up.
“Sure,” I murmur, eventually.
He strides over to stare out of the window, his hands behind his back. “I have to go away in a bit,” he states suddenly. “It will be for a week or so, depending. But there are some things I need clarity on before I go. We should’ve had this conversation before, but we got swept up, and then it was too late, but now I need to say the words. Are you worried you might be pregnant?”
