Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

Not that I would make any.

I know what’s expected of me. When the fish is caught in the net, the smart ones don’t move; if they do, they exhaust what remains of their energy and die faster.

Now, if I store that energy, I get to bargain for greater things. I learnt that by myself, by the way; I didn’t need Cole’s philosophy books.

The moment I was born and my parents decided there was no need for a second child — fuck you, unborn second child, by the way — I was raised to know my duties as the sole heir.

I can do this the easy way, or I can clash with my father and cause my mother pain.

I would never do that — be the source of Mum’s pain, I mean. She’s one of the few reasons why I stay afloat, and I can’t make things ugly for her.

Marriage of convenience is first on the list of mandatory shit to do. I’ll do it one day, as expected of me.

Only that day isn’t today, or even fifteen years from now.

That’s why my little toy will play her part and say no during tonight’s dinner.

I’ve already sent her an instigation she’d be a fool to refuse.

Teal isn’t the first I’ve secretly convinced to refuse the arranged marriage on my behalf. Let’s just say Dad has been trying to set me up with his associates’ daughters for years.

I told Lars Dad is like one of those bored housewives with nothing better to do than play matchmaker. Lars wasn’t amused — not that he ever is.

Teal will bow down like all of them.

My grin widens, and he frowns. I wonder if he knows the type of fuckery my smile hides.

“Not at all, Father. Everything will be perfect.”

4

Teal

“We can turn around and leave this instant, Teal.” Dad clutches me by the elbow, causing me to stop in front of the double golden doors of the Astor mansion.

Elsa, Knox, and Agnus stop, too. My brother takes the chance to smooth his denim jacket and hair. Elsa gives me a pleading look, silently begging me to think about this.

Agnus, Dad’s right-hand man, is forty-three and so well-built he gives the younger generation a run for their money, and now he is watching me with a neutral expression. Knox and I lived with him for many years, and I know that neutrality means he cares — to an extent. He just doesn’t show it.

Like me.

Perhaps that’s why I look up at him, expecting something, anything to come out of his mouth.

He says nothing.

It’s Dad who grips me gently by the elbow and stands in front of me. Dad is also broad and well-built, not like Agnus, but Dad has an aristocratic face. He’s warm but hard. Noble but old-fashioned in a way.

His chestnut hair is styled like a proper gentleman, and his suit, like Agnus’, is made to impress. Actually, everyone’s clothes are. Even my daft brother took the

time to wear his best when he’d usually throw on a Metallica T-shirt like it’s the only thing available.

Elsa is wearing a soft blue dress that compliments her eye colour. Dad and Agnus are in dark suits they usually reserve for business — because that’s what this is about: business.

I’ve chosen a black tulle skirt that stops at my knees, fishnet stocking, and boots. I also have a white T-shirt — with no sayings on the front — and a black denim jacket. My hair is straight, hitting just under my chin as usual. The only thing I gave up is the black makeup.

I think you missed the memo about makeup. It’s supposed to make you prettier, not uglier.

No, it’s not because of his words. Ronan Astor doesn’t affect my decisions and never will. Not even if I wear his engagement ring.