Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

I stand there in the midst of the mother-son bonding, and it’s like I’m shoved out of my skin.

For my whole life, a mother was the only thing I never had. The woman who gave birth to me and Knox doesn’t count; she’s the devil.

She’s the reason I can’t recognise half my feelings and run away from the other half as if they’re on fire.

Seeing Charlotte treat Ronan with so much care and affection in her blue eyes makes me hate him even more.

He doesn’t deserve a mother like her just like Edric doesn’t deserve her as a wife.

“Mother, do you mind if I steal my lovely fiancée?” He’s asking her, but his lunatic grin falls on me.

Before I can protest, Charlotte speaks first. “Why, of course I don’t mind.”

She takes her son’s hand and puts it on top of mine. The shock of his skin heightens when he threads his fingers in mine, smiling at his mother. He tightens his hold around me, and I suppress a wince at the force of it.

Charlotte strides away with a smile and a suggestive “Have fun, kids.”

As soon as Ronan closes her bedroom door behind us, I yank my hand free of his as if it were burning me — and in a way, it was.

He grabs me by the arm so abruptly I swallow a shriek. “D-don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Startle me. It brings back memories.

Instead of voicing that, I bite my lower lip and adopt my no-nonsense tone. “Touch me. I don’t like it when you touch me.”

“Let me count all the fucks I give.” He pauses, pretending to count with his free hand. “None.”

“Where are you taking me?” I try to wriggle out of his grasp as he drags me down the hall. His strides are so long and quick, and I’m panting to keep up with his pace.

Damn tall people and their legs that go on for freaking miles.

“You fucked up, ma belle, and it’s payback time.”

My breath hitches and his grip on my arm is tingling. Problem is, I can’t figure out why the hell it’s tingling. Is it fear? Anticipation? Or maybe something worse?

Ronan pushes a door open and shoves me inside. I stumble and nearly fall, but I catch myself against the wall for balance as the sound of a lock echoes in the distance like doom.

I swallow, lifting my head to take a quick inventory of the place. Considering the bed with dark sheets, the framed pictures, and the football, this is his room.

Ronan stands with his back against the door and his hand reaching behind him — for the lock he just turned, no doubt.

I force my hands to fall on either side of me so I don’t reveal the tremors plaguing my body.

This is not a real trapping. I can get out at any time.

Any time.

I chant those words in my head over and over again.

“I assume there has been a miscalculation?” He smiles, but now I’m certain he’s hiding a lot of fuckery behind it. “As per our agreement, you were supposed to pay a visit to my father and end the engagement, not play dress-up with my mother.”

“Our agreement?” I scoff. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”

“Really?”

“You assumed everything yourself.”