Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy 1)

Dad stopped on a letter, eyeing me before studying the door. “Your mom saw this?”

I started to look at the letter, but Dad took it back.

He cursed and, without warning, threw the envelope into the fireplace.

Shocked, I took a step toward it, watching the light catch it. A name on the front highlighted in the rapid flames.

To: Mr. Dorian Riley Prinze.

“Dad?” I questioned. He placed a hand to my chest before I could save it, shaking his head. I frowned. “But—”

“Don’t, Dorian.” My father lounged against the fireplace, watching the letter curl and burn. “Some things are just better left in the fire.” His hand folded on his face. “I wish your mom hadn’t seen that. I try to take those out before she can see them. They upset her every time.”

I blinked, confused. There’d been more than one letter? To me?

But from whom?

I walked over to my dad, standing with him by the hearth.

A large sigh left him. “It’s your grandfather,” he stated, causing me to blink again. Dad nodded. “Grandfather Prinze. For some reason, my father thinks he has the right to speak to you.”

I twitched. Grandpa Prinze? I shook my head. “I thought he was dead.”

Or maybe I’d hoped he was. We never talked about him in this house.

Another secret.

For a long time, I hadn’t known the truth about my father’s father, and once told, I’d never heard the words again. The man had become a ghost, and I never pushed the issue after my parents finally did sit down and explain to me why I’d never ever in my life meet him.

My lips parted. “What does he want?” The letter had been to me, not my dad.

My father’s face hardened, then with his big hands he squeezed my shoulders. “My father is cancer,” he said, sighing. “And it doesn’t matter what he wants.”

He left me after that, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His office door clicked behind him, and I simply stared at the letter in the flame. The letter curled, off to the side, and for some reason, I grabbed the poker off the fireplace.

I pulled the thing out, half of it burnt to hell, but I blew the ash away.

I didn’t know what made me pocket it or take it out of my dad’s office, but I did note one thing.

This was the first time I’d ever really defied my father.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dorian - age 17

I really had no idea why I stole the letter, but I did read it that night. It talked about me, how my grandfather wanted to see me.

“I think the boy has a right to know who his grandfather is, son,” the letter said. “Maybe you should let him decide whether or not he wants me in his life.”

The man was a rat fucking bastard if he thought he had any rights to me, not after what he’d done to our family. That was even outside of the abuse I knew he’d subjected my father

to. There was a reason my dad never ever put hands on me. I hadn’t even gotten a spanking growing up.

And that was because of Grandpa Prinze.

The man was an abuser, and the admittance had made me respect the hell out of my father. He told me himself why he didn’t and never would put hands on me, and really, he’d never had to. My father’s presence alone had been enough to keep me in line.

He’d never had to hit me.