Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1) - Page 46

I tilt my head. “So why don’t you ask me truthfully about the deal your father and I have?”

She shrugs, sliding off the bed. “I guess I don’t want to use that to manipulate it out of you. I want you to trust me too.” She pauses and looks at me over her shoulder just before she hits the closet. “And for you to do that, you have to open up to me in your own time.” Then she disappears into the closet and I’m left sitting there, gobsmacked. I don’t know what’s happening between her and I, and I don’t know how we went from being enemies to almost friends, but it’s uncharted territory. Territory I’m not actually familiar with because I trust no one.

I get off the bed and make my way out of the bedroom. Yep, she’ll be waiting a fucking long time.

15

Beeping sounds reverberated around the empty walls as I hitched up the heavy bundle in my arms.

“Dadadada…” the bundle of soft brown hair and rosy cheeks yapped off and I grinned down at her.

“That’s right. Dada. Say it again…” I muttered as I continued to walk us down the silent hallway. Bleach and disinfectant fueled the air, and it took a while for me to get used to this smell, but after weeks of visiting, I’ve become accustomed to it and so has Harper. My heart cracks in my chest again when we stop outside of a door. Harper reaches forward, her little fingers going over the name that sits on the door.

“Mamama…” she gargles, dribble coming down her tiny little lips.

“Yes, baby. Mama.”

I pushed open the door that reads “Isa Royal” on the front.

Pulling out some steaks that I have in the fridge, I hit dial for Brian with the Bluetooth speaker hooked up to my phone.

“Boss…”

“When does Maria get back?” Maria is my maid. She’s been gone for two weeks now to be with family and I’m already ready to have her flight moved to an earlier date. I don’t cook. Ever.

“Three days, sir.”

I look into the empty fridge. “I think I need to do grocery shopping.”

The phone goes silent, then Brian clears his throat, all though I can’t see through the phone, I know he’s smiling. “Send me a list and I’ll do it. Can’t imagine you in a supermarket.”

“True,” I answer. “I’ll send you a list.” Then I hang up my phone and scroll through Spotify, hitting play on old school Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

“Wow…” Isa teases, leaning against the frame of the kitchen island.

“What?” I fold my arms in front of myself, looking at her up and down while taking in how relaxed she looks in grey sweats and a little white tank top with her long hair falling down the side of her face and over her shoulder.

She grins, tilting her head. “Are you going to cook tonight?”

“I don’t cook.”

“You don’t?” she mocks, and I know she’s being sarcastic. She steps into the kitchen, rounding the bar and pulling out one of the stools. “I mean… my love for food is real, so I know how to cook all sorts of delicious food.”

I smirk, maybe I don’t need to fly Maria back early after all. “I’ve sent Brian to do some grocery shopping.”

“I can do it,” she replies, twirling her chair around to face me before placing her face in the palm of her hands. Trying to be all innocent and shit. “I’m skilled at grocery shopping activities.”

“Bet you are…” I mutter, closing the fridge door. “But no, he’ll do it. You can cook while I’m at my four o’clock meeting with Samsung.” I go back to the cupboards, taking down a couple of glasses and pouring wine into both.

Walking back to her, I wrap my fingers around her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “Are you okay?”

She searches my eyes in shock and then her shoulders deflate. “Yes. I think I’ll be fine.”

I now have two reasons to beat Devon’s face in.

Leaning down, I kiss her on the lips as the front door swings open and I don’t have to look to see who it is. “I need that fucking key back,” I growl against Isa’s lips and she chuckles.

Stepping backward, I grab my keys off the counter and wink at Isa. “See you later, baby. And you,” I point to my bratty sister, “are not staying for dinner so don’t get comfortable.”

16

Isa

“Well if you’re cooking I won’t be!” Jessica yells at the closing door. “Asshole,” she further adds, walking into the kitchen and picking up Bryant’s untouched wine that he had just poured.

I can’t help it, I laugh, mainly because I love the dynamic between Jessica and Bryant. She keeps him on his toes, and it’s sort of cute. “How’s your day been today? Fucked any more bodyguards?” I quirk an eyebrow at her and she almost chokes on her drink.

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