Page 77 of Wicked Prince

I see the opportunity to leave and make up something about wanting to check on our food. Kayleigh just gives me an absent nod. I'm not sure if she's latched onto Stefan so eagerly because she's trying to make me jealous, or because she's jealous of him paying attention to Amelia.

Probably both, but in either case, it's certainly benefiting me for the moment.

When I do make it to the bathroom hallway, I'm about to just go in when another woman walks through the doors. I decide I'd rather not get screamed at and have the manager called on me, drawing attention to what I'm doing. Instead, I wait in the hall until Amelia comes out, but when I notice how pale she looks, I think twice of launching into the subject I originally planned to broach.

"Are you all right?" I ask, taking a step toward her.

She jolts visibly, but her startled expression immediately turns to spite when she turns to face me. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You left so suddenly, I thought something was wrong. And it looks like I was right."

"I'm not talking about here," she hisses, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone is watching before she stalks the rest of the way over to me. "Why are youhere, at the restaurant? At our fucking table?"

"The restaurant was a coincidence," I say, and when I can see her incredulous look, I add, "Believe it or don't. It's the truth. As for the table, that was Kayleigh's idea, not mine."

"You certainly didn't try to deter her," she says.

She's not wrong, so I decide a change of subject is in order. I don't have long to convince her that she's in way over her head. "What the hell areyoudoing with Stefan Romero?"

Her eyes narrow venomously. They're never more verdant than when she looks at me like that. Furious. Beautiful. Like some goddess of wrath come down to earth to punish me for my sins by defying me at every turn. By making me want her, all the more so because I can’t have her.

"It's none of your business who I'm with, or why."

"The hell it isn't," I snort. "Do you have any idea who that guy is? He plays with girls like you for fun. Like a fucking cat playing with mice."

She gives a bitter laugh. "Really?You, of all people, are going to lecture me about someone being a player?"

"Takes one to know one," I say with a shrug.

"And what exactly is 'girls like me' supposed to mean?" she challenges.

"Young. Pretty. Innocent," I say pointedly.

She rolls her eyes and starts to walk past me, but I grab her by the arm. She looks like she's going to claw my eyes out and hisses, "Get your hand off me."

I reluctantly pull my hand away, frowning. "I'm serious, Amelia. You hate me, fine. But Stefan is not the kind of guy you want to fuck around with."

"And why is that, Lorenzo?" she challenges, folding her arms.

The sound of my name on her lips is too appealing, especially given the circumstances. "For one thing, you're right. He is a player. More like a serial womanizer who makes me look like a priest in comparison."

She scoffs. "I have a hard time believinganyoneis more of a manwhore than you."

I clench my jaw. "In any case, there are other reasons you should be wary of him. Of anyone from that family."

"What? Don't tell me they're mobsters or something," she says in that deadpan smartass tone I usually find charming. Except when she's dealing with shit that could get her killed.

"Funny," I say. "But people have a way of disappearing when they get too involved with the Romero family. Nice girls included."

She frowns as if she doesn't believe me, but I can tell my words have gotten to her, at least a little.

"You're just trying to spook me."

"Ask around if you don't believe me," I say with a shrug.

She squints. I can tell she's trying to decide whether I'm lying or not. "Even if that's true, it doesn't matter. My dad just asked me to give him a tour. It’s not like I'm going away to his private island."

So her father is the one who arranged this little set up. I should've known. It comes as a relief and enrages me at the same time.

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