Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy 1)

Sloane

On Monday morning, I was rocked awake.

My younger brother had a death wish.

Bru had his toothbrush in his mouth, half his academy uniform on with his shirt open. We probably had at least an hour before we had to be at school, but he was always on top of his shit when it came to academics.

That’d really been all we had coming up, school and not much else. I supposed it’d been the one thing we could rely on since we moved so much.

Groaning, I tugged the comforter over my head. I’d just gotten to sleep. I’d stayed up studying the academy’s campus map after I ironed our uniforms, so I knew where the fuck I was going today. “Fuck off.”

I loved my brother, but I didn’t love him enough to lose sleep.

He ripped the comforter off my head, and I nearly decked his butt.

“What?” I growled, and he tugged me up. Really, I’d forgotten when he’d passed me in height and then some. He had the beefy exterior of a linebacker, not one of the complete nerd he was. He was at the top of his class at pretty much every school we’d attended.

“You gotta see this shit.” He drew back my curtains. He waggled his eyebrows. “We got a delivery outside.”

Clamping down on his toothbrush, he grinned, and I ambled over, sleep in my eyes.

I nearly croaked.

Downstairs were two dudes with one of those trucks that (where I came from) usually took away cars.

Not delivered luxury vehicles.

But that was what these two guys were doing, one lowering a lime-green Audi off the truck while the other waved it down.

“What the fuck?” I pulled a veil of dark hair out of my eyes, shoving Bru away to figure out what was up with this.

I padded down winding vertebrae stairs, and my brother stayed hot on my trail.

I threw open the door, then walked with bare feet all the way up to these dudes. “What’s this, and how did you guys get in here?”

I mean, we had a coded entry at the gate, and this wasn’t normal. Fuck if Bru cared considering the way he waltzed right up to this ride.

“Sloane, this shit is fucking awesome.” Jaw dropped, he pushed his fingers into his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Don’t get too attached,” I gritted, standing in front of the dude who was waving this shit down. Upon seeing me, he held up a clipboard.

“The order is for this residence,” he said, then flipped over a page. “To the Sloane children. Noa Sloane and Bruno Sloane.”

“It’s just Sloane and Bru,” I corrected, and Bru’s gaze shot over just the same.

“Dude can call me Nancy if we get to keep this.” He started to touch the car, but then hesitated. “This is seriously ours?”

“Sent from a Callum Montgomery,” the man said, smiling a little. “He gave us access to the gate.”

Well, hearing this my brother basically lost his mind. He laughed, manically like some crazed kid in a candy store.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.” He danced in front of the candied paint job, then even more when the guy who lowered the car gave him the keys. “Holy shit, Sloane.”

This was more than generous, too fucking much. Turning, I raised a hand to the guy. “There has to be a mistake.”

We had the Chevelle. We didn’t need this.

“No mistake, sweetheart,” he said, and I let him have that one because, well, he delivered a damn car, and I could get over the demeaningly submissive way he acknowledged me. He lowered his clipboard. “We were told to deliver this one by seven o’clock today.” He lifted a second set of keys to me. “Consider it delivered.”