Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Or he could help us.”
“Or he could help us.” Tristan’s hand finds my waist, and he somehow manages to pull me closer. “But I need you to know—whatever happens in that call, whatever he offers or demands—you’re not a bargaining chip. You’re not a problem to solve. You’re mine, and that’s not changing. You’re my princess first.”
When Tristan calls me “princess,” it makes me feel sweet and delicate. I want to be that princess. Not the other. Besides, the things Teddy and I would get up to if we held real royal scepters wouldn’t be good for anything or anyone.
I run my hands up his chest to around his neck. “Possessive.”
“Always.” He kisses my forehead, then my temple, then my jaw. “Especially when I’m terrified about anyone trying to take you from me.”
I pull back enough to see his face. “I won’t let anyone take me. This is where I want to be. You are my family.”
“And here to stay,” he agrees, his thumb tracing my jaw. “I love you, Lily. Julian could offer me everything—protection, resources, a clean resolution—and I’d still burn it all down if it meant keeping you safe. If it meant keeping you.”
I turn my face into his palm and kiss it. “I love you too,” I tell him, knowing he will always pick me.
He kisses me, soft and slow. I sigh against his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt, and for a moment, the world narrows to only us.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard; he rests his forehead against mine. “Fifteen minutes,” he murmurs. “Then we talk to your brother.”
“Half brother.” That’s still so strange. I’ve gone from thinking I don’t have a family to now having a whole-ass half brother.
“Half brother,” he corrects, but he’s already leading me toward the door, his hand locked in mine. “Whatever he is, we’ll handle it together.”
Together. I like the sound of that.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
TRISTAN
The words loop through my skull, foreign and impossible, like code that shouldn’t compile but somehow runs, nonetheless.
I love you too.
Lily said them to me so easily with a bright smile. She looks at me like I am someone worth loving, embracing who I am. The crazy obsession and all.
I can’t recall anyone ever saying those words to me. My mother might have when I was little. It’s not the same as Lily saying it. She said it with intention, not because it was expected.
My parents showed me brief expressions of warmth, mainly my mother, followed by long absences. That was chalked up as okay, because I had nannies to help handle the rest.
I know that Victor respected me and mentored me, but love was never part of our vocabulary. Before Lily, there had been no one else. No one caught my attention at school, work, or projects.
I never gave it much thought. Until her.
She has a way of making me need things I didn’t know I did. Like the sound of her laughter that comes easily. The way her energy can take over a space and she never lets anything keep her down for long. The impossible softness of how she says my name, like it means something to her, something good.
Now this love-demanding space in my chest where I kept nothing before is full. Parts I hadn’t known were hollow until she was there, filling them. Her mere existence is the gravity that keeps my whole world from spinning into utter darkness.
I make myself focus back on the encryption protocols, triple-checking every layer. It’s not about the tracking. They know where we are. It’s about no one getting their hands on the communications.
The secure line to Julian routes through seven jurisdictions, each one burning its trace after thirty seconds. No one will know we spoke until I want them to.
The screen lights blue, ready for me to initiate the call.
“It’s time,” I tell Lily, who is lying on a chaise with a book in her hand. She sits up, putting it down, and nods, remaining off-screen as she requested.
If he wants to speak, it makes me believe more that he doesn’t condone what his mother is up to. I know better than anyone; your parents are going to be who they want to be. That doesn’t mean that you have to be that way.
The video resolves, and Prince Julian of Grandeurs—late twenties, dark hair, and the same distinct cheekbones I studied in his father’s photographs—appears on my screen. He wears a button-up, rolled to his elbows, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, but that wrinkled shirt has.
“Tristan,” he says. No title, no formality. I’m sure he’s done his digging on me as well.
“Julian.” I don’t relax my posture. “You’ve been looking for your sister.”
“I have. For years.” He leans forward, elbows on his desk. “I thought she’d be here.”
“Next time, perhaps.” Lily is here, and it takes everything in me not to glance toward her. She’s out of view, not sure if she wanted to meet him quite yet. I don’t blame her; everyone in that country has failed her.