Ruthless Princess (Mafia Royals 1)

“You’re insane.” She gritted her teeth. “I can’t believe you’d storm out of class over something so stupid—”

“It’s not stupid! And I’m not mad about my dick!” I roared, earning odd stares from people hurrying by us.

“Um, were we having two totally different arguments?” Her eyes widened. “You left because—”

“I left because you said you’d compared me,” I yelled. “Which means you’ve been sleeping around. How many, Serena? Huh? How many guys did you suck off while—”

Her good hand came flying at my face, slapping me so hard I stumbled sideways. “Don’t.” She gritted her teeth. “Don’t you dare disrespect me like that.”

I rubbed my cheek. “How many?”

“This is stupid.” She shoved at my chest. “Do you really want to play that game? Huh? Where we compare sexual partners? Numbers? How in the hell is that going to help either of us right now?”

I sobered completely on the outside, but the breathing, the pain in my chest slicing up and down over and over again kept increasing. She hadn’t waited. She wasn’t mine. “Go ahead, ask me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already know you get around, Junior, so I’m gonna put you in the more than two hands category, which is more than double my number.”

“Wrong,” I whispered as a choking fog descended over me.

“Wow!” She laughed. “So more than?”

I shook my head, too hurt to speak, too angry to form words. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“You can’t just start this and not end it. Don’t make me beat you up again, Junior.” Her tone was more teasing. She had no idea that my heart felt like it was getting ripped from my chest.

She didn’t know that I felt alone.

Lost.

Forgotten.

So unimportant that it was some colossal joke to her—my feelings.

“One,” I finally said. “My number is one.”

She paled, her lips parted, but nothing came out. And then she reached for me.

I jerked away and shook my head. “But apparently I need to go out there and get some side by side comparisons too…” I started walking away.

“Junior, wait!” She grabbed my arm again. “Where are you going?”

“To find a few willing girls, obviously.” I sneered. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and have a threesome.”

“You don’t mean that.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“But I do, Serena.” I glared. “I really do. Because how the fuck am I ever going to forget this conversation? It’s out there now. In my head. Your confession may as well have been a shot to the head, executioner style, or at least to the heart.” I took a deep breath. “Fuck. You.”

“Junior. Don’t!” She yelled. “You can’t just—”

“I can. I will. Sorry, Serena, I’m off to find my new queen. God knows I’ve waited long enough to find a replacement.”

“You’ll never replace me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Never.”

“Watch me.” And just like that, we were back to the beginning, back to where things broke.

And it was painfully clear that while I played my part, I never forgot my vow to love her forever.

And Serena?

She obviously hadn’t meant it in the first place.

“I’ll love you as long as we both shall live.”

“I’ll love you as long as we both shall live.”

“No matter what?” She asked, “Even if this goes bad?”

“A promise in blood is a promise in my soul.” I took our hands and pressed the bloodied palms together. “No matter what I say, what you think, what I do—you own me, Serena Abandonato, and one day, I’m going to be yours, just like you’re already mine.”

I slammed my car door shut.

And screamed.

Chapter Eleven

Serena

I should have known that the cease-fire between Junior and me wasn’t going anywhere, if anything, after our fight, where we aired out our dirty laundry on the campus lawn for everyone to see—again—things seemed to feel so tense that I wanted to land a punch to his face just so I could feel better about the way he’d treated me.

He’d made it so believable, the lies he told, the harem of girls he made out with, and felt up, sometimes right in front of me with a smirk on his face.

“Dinner!” Mom called down the hall.

He was already at the house; I heard his voice, felt the tension rolling off of him right along with all that misplaced anger.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made it look like he was whoring himself out if he was going to get so pissed about me doing the same.

Not that I’d done it.

I mean I’d done it as in, had sex, but it wasn’t with multiple people, it was a week after he’d broken my heart into a million pieces.

And I thought it would make me feel better.

It didn’t; if anything, it just pissed me off more.

When I saw the guy on campus I still felt dirty about that night, it was so rushed and so opposite of what I’d experienced with Junior that I wondered if I was defective, if something was wrong with me or if my body just refused to feel good with anyone but him, which just pissed me off more. Because how dare he make it so that I compared every kiss to his, every touch, every moan.