Page 11 of The Grosvenor's Ghost

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“What, like, the future king banging his mistress?” He smiles, in a way that he hopes I will smile back.

But I don’t.

I shake my head instead, too lost for words.

“What about your dad banging his?” I spit back.

He pulls a face, cheeks red. “That was like, five years ago.”

“Recent enough for The Sun to be still talking about it, though.”

Now he goes silent and I get out of the car, leaving him to battle the sea of paparazzi on his own.

They’re rife at the minute, of course they are. I mean, have you seen the papers? It’s not even just the papers, it’s everything, everywhere. This is world breaking news.

Sebastian and Mia.

Broke the world.

Hope they’re fucking happy, twats.

I ignore their shouts and questions and rush straight into the restaurant where I’m instantly met with George’s chest.

“Woah,” he puts his hands on my shoulders. “Slow down.”

“Sorry,” I swallow.

He tips my chin up. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s his car!” I wail. “I fucking hate it!”

George pulls me into his chest, chin resting on top of my head.

“Who’s? Digby Beaufort II’s car?”

I smile. Not one of them has ever called Digby just Digby—no, it’s always his full name, ‘Dicky’, ‘Eaton Prick’ or ‘That Thing.’

Secretly love them for it.

“Yes,” I continue to sob. “I want his car to cease to exist!”

“I mean,” George tuts. “It is a fucking ugly motor but Jesus, you really do hate it, don’t you?”

“I do,” I sniff, pulling back.

“Alright,” he smiles down at me. “Go on, go to the table, Athena’s there.”

I walk off just as the door behind me opens and Digby walks in. Athena sits at the table, chin in her hand wearing quite the eye sore…a monogram Gucci playsuit.

“Did you get dressed in the dark again?” I ask.

She smiles sweetly. “Why? Does it clash with your high tea attire?”

Stare down at myself and then back at her and I know it’s such a cliche—hated her in school but now we’re best friends. It was that night in Ibiza almost three years ago that changed everything.

I sit down across from her, look around at the lack of people.

“Where is everyone?”

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