What Grows Dies Here

There was a reason why vanilla was the most popular ice cream flavor on the earth—because people were far too afraid of change to try anything different or risky.

Me? I had made it my life’s mission to sample every single fucking flavor.

Except whatever the fuck he was. The man I ‘met’—though I wouldn’t consider me threatening him for trying to abduct my best friend as a meet-cute—on a sidewalk, wearing a sharply tailored, black suit that did nothing to contain the powerful body underneath it. It was so black that it looked like the night itself. He looked like the night itself.

Like death itself.

He was a man. In every sense of the word. His masculinity radiated off him, coating me, enchanting me.

So Stella and I were exiting a kickboxing class.

For beginners.

I already had a black belt in karate and had been doing Muay Thai for years, so I didn’t technically need to be at a kickboxing class, but the cardio was welcome. Beyond that, Stella needed the kickboxing class. She needed to feel strong and able to defend herself after almost being raped a month ago.

My skin went cold and clammy every time I thought about what almost happened to my best friend, the shadows under her eyes this past month, the pallor of her skin. That night was the first time the light was back. Just a glimmer. She was still haunted by what happened to her, it would follow her for the rest of her life.

Even if she was saved before anything could happen.

Saved by the mysterious Jay Helmick. A man who had pulled her off the dance floor at Klutch—the best nightclub in the city, which he owned—a month ago and told her he wanted to go Christian Grey on her. In other words, he told her he wanted to fuck her in the dirtiest of ways and didn’t want any kind of relationship.

Of course, Stella had refused him, gave him a piece of her mind, stormed out of there, and had an emergency girlfriend briefing the next day.

Zoe, Yasmin and I had had varying reactions to this news. Yasmin, being the lawyer, was all about any and all legal action that could be thrown at the man. Zoe, shrewd, reasonable and a force to be reckoned with, had wanted to know every detail about the situation and the man himself. She was a reasonable woman who would gather all the facts before going to war—and winning.

Me, I was more interested in the gleam in my friend’s eyes, the slight breathlessness that she had while recounting the story. Stella hadn’t been entirely disgusted or offended. Jay scared her, yes. But he had also excited her. Offered her something that none of her run-of-the-mill, all-American asshole boyfriends could ever give her.

I had sensed that there was a part of her that very much wanted to say yes to the man, and part of me knew that we had not heard the last of Jay Helmick.

But I wasn’t thinking about him as we walked out of the kickboxing class. I was thinking about distracting my friend from her demons, knowing she wasn’t fully healed. She wasn’t ready to talk, to get deep. So I was doing what I did best… Keeping it light. I was telling her about my latest boyfriend.

The prince.

Granted, Stella had not so much as batted at eyelash when I told her I was dating a prince. She’d been friends with me long enough to not be ruffled by such things.

“Which country?” she asked.

I grinned at her, thinking of the man in question. He was a prince in every sense of the word. Filthy rich. Incredibly handsome. Impeccable manners. A talented tongue. He was utterly infatuated by me, muttering things about how he’d make me his princess, give me anything I wanted.

I was already growing bored.

Of course, I didn’t tell Stella this.

“Bhutan,” I replied as we left the building and walked into the oppressive heat of LA in August. “A darling little country in South Asia.”

We were supposed to be flying there this weekend so I could meet his parents. They wouldn’t approve of me, of course. Rich as I was, I was a commoner without any royal blood. An American at that.

I was half Asian, on my mother’s side, but her family came from extreme poverty and had worked their asses off to come to America to give their daughter a chance to make a different life for herself.

My mother had done that. And some. She was the most impressive person I knew. But to an ancient dynasty, she was still new money.

No, I was not likely to be welcomed with open arms. That didn’t faze me. I could enchant anyone. By the time the weekend was out, they’d be welcoming me to the family, and I’d be offered the crown, the title.

Princess.

Pity I never wanted to be such a thing.

I was thinking about what it was I actually did want when he descended.