HENRY

“What the hell, Henry?”

I’m leaning against the hood of Finley’s car. He’s such an insufferable show off that he drove his fucking custom-made Italian race car to the clubhouse, rather than taking one of the chauffeured estate cars like every other guest would have. I’m sure he thought it would impress Abi and buy him a few minutes alone with her. Fuck him and his obnoxious car. I hope my ass is leaving a big fat dent.

I let Finley get closer before speaking. When he’s about five feet away and can clearly see my dead-serious expression, I lean forward. “I want you to stay the fuck away from Abigail.”

He snorts. “Like I give a shit about what you want. Get the fuck off my car.”

I stay seated and stare at him, my gaze unwavering. “I’m not joking.”

When Pierre, my security chief, informed me that Finley had made dinner reservations at the clubhouse for himself and Abi, I asked him to keep an eye on things and let me know when their dinner was almost over so I can make sure Finley doesn’t get another second alone with her. It’s hard to tell what sort of unspeakable things he’s planned to do to Abi tonight. Not a goddamn thing is happening though, not as long as I’m breathing.

The manager of the clubhouse has been instructed to keep Abi occupied inside with idle chatter for a few minutes once she emerges from the ladies’ room. Meanwhile, I’m having a little chat with Finley outside. It can go nicely, or I can smash his face in, whichever he’d prefer — I don’t give a shit at this point.

“Toss off, Henry. She asked me out.”

I don’t move an inch. “I don’t know what you did to make that happen, but don’t flatter yourself. It’s certainly not because she likes you.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself. I know you’ve got a little thing for her. Everyone knows, it’s written all over your face.”

I keep staring. “Does that get under your skin?”

“You think I care about your stupid little crush? It means nothing. It’s pathetic, actually. I’ve got news for you — her parents and advisors? They approved me as her suitor. Not you.”

“Only because they haven’t figured out yet what a snake in the grass you are. Just give it time.”

“What are you going to do? Go run and tattle on me?”

I shrug. “They might be interested to hear what I have to say.”

“As if anyone will believe what you say, Prince Playboy. Your reputation is in the gutter.”

“That’s exactly why they’d believe me. Who would know better about the little underworld you live in?”

Finley clenches his jaw. “You don’t know anything.”

“The women you’ve paid off to not bring charges? Yeah, I know about them. And your partnership with Johnston in that drug ring you two were running at Cathridge? I know about that, too. Shall I go on?”

He scoffs, but his eyes widen, and it takes him a moment to speak. “Good luck proving any of that.”

I stare at him, so tempted to mention the growing pile of evidence accumulating in my office safe and the secret investigative ministry I’ve convened, but I won’t. As much as I want to rub it in his face, I’d be a fool to give him a chance to spin more lies and cover his tracks before the ministry has finished their inquiry into his heinous crimes.

“I don’t have to prove it,” I say instead. “No one cares about proof, Finley. How do I know? Look at the headlines about me — judge, jury, and executioner, right there in the tabloids.”

He sneers at me with a satisfied smile. “You’ve gotten what you deserve.”

I shrug. “Maybe. But I would never stoop to your level, Finley. You’re a whole fucking different breed, aren’t you? I don’t force myself on women, you fucking slime. You’re the real danger around here, yet I’m the one branded the troublemaker. But hey, as the Crown Prince of Scandal, the most notorious royal in all of Ostwyn — that’ll give my words some credence, don’t you think?”

“You wouldn’t,” he snarls.

“No? What do I have to lose, exactly? As you said, my reputation’s already fucked. And even if it wasn’t, I’d set myself on fire to keep Abigail out of your reach.”

“You say one word to Abi or her parents, and I’ll demolish you.”

Within a split second I’ve leapt off the car, and my right hand is around Finley’s throat, squeezing so hard I’m almost lifting him off the ground. My fingers are digging into his skin, the tendons in his neck straining under my hands.

“Don’t you ever fucking threaten me, you piece of shit.”

He makes gagging sounds, and his face turns red, but I hold tight for a few more moments and let him squirm, his hands clawing at my fingers desperately, before I finally let him go. He trips over his own feet and almost falls but finds his balance at the last minute and leans over, gasping for air.

“You’ll pay for that, Henry,” he rasps.

“It’s time for you to leave.”

He straightens up, his face still flushed and deep red marks on his throat. He tugs his suit, smoothing the lapels flat, and glances at the entrance of the clubhouse then back at me. “No, I’m waiting on Abi.”

I step toward him, and he flinches, stumbling backward a few paces. “She can make her way back to the palace without your help. You think for one Goddamn minute I’m letting her get back in that car with you? Get the fuck out of here Finley, you’re done.”

He hesitates, his eyes shifting between me and his silver coupe. I shake my head in disgust but turn and walk ten feet out into the parking lot, away from him, away from his car. When I turn back around, he’s still standing on the damn walkway.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m all the way over here, asshole. Just get in your car and leave.” I wave a hand at his car and wait expectantly.

He scampers over to the driver’s side, eyes trained on me the entire time.

“This isn’t finished,” he yells over the roof of his car. “I know how to make you pay, Henry.” Then he hurriedly climbs in and slams the door shut.

A second later, he revs the engine to life and peels out. I watch him drive up the hill and turn right onto Estate Drive — heading away from the palace. No doubt going to join his frat buddies at a bar somewhere and spin lies about me.

Just as his tail lights disappear out of sight, I hear the heavy doors of the clubhouse thud shut and look over to see Abi standing on the walkway, staring at me.

“Henry?”

I walk up to meet her. “Wow, you look amazing.”

She’s wearing a stunning red dress with a flared skirt in a retro style, like one of those flirty swing dresses from the 50s. It highlights all her curves in a way that just makes me want to rip it off her and kiss her from head to toe. My mouth is actually watering as I soak in every little detail of her, as if she’s a piece of cherry candy wrapped in shiny cellophane, and I’m dying for a taste of something sweet.

Abi tucks a strand of hair behind her right ear and blushes modestly. “Thanks.”

She looks way too good for Finley — too good for me, too, if I’m honest. But that shy smile, it makes my heart skip a beat. I’m living for that smile these days.

“Where is Finley?” Abi looks past me to the parking lot and frowns. “His car is gone.”

“Oh, he had to leave.” I give her a reassuring smile. “But I’ll make sure you get back safely. I’ll call for a car right now.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, but she puts her hand on mine.

“Don’t. It’s a lovely evening, why don’t we walk?”

The doors of the clubhouse burst open, and half a dozen people spill out onto the walkway, laughing and talking loudly. When they see me, they immediately get quiet and walk by us single file with their heads down. I automatically square my shoulders and straighten my spine, just as my predecessors have done for a millennia, as I modestly accept the respect of my subjects.

“Your Grace,” the first gentleman says, looking up briefly to nod at me.

I nod back. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

A blonde-haired woman gives a small curtsy as she walks by. “Yes, we did, Your Highness, thank you.”

They proceed out to the parking lot, and I turn back to Abi.

“I’m sorry, you were saying…?”

“Let’s walk back to the palace,” she says with a smile.

“I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

Car doors open and shut behind me, and I look over my shoulder, watching as two cars pull out of the parking lot. All clear. I step closer to Abi and rub a finger against the smooth red fabric hugging her stomach.

I lean into her and whisper, “You look so delicious right now, all I can think about is lifting that dress up.”

She bites her lip and looks up at me. “And doing what?”

“Kissing every inch of those sexy legs.”

Abi nestles closer to me, her breasts brushing my chest, the full skirt of her dress pressed against my legs. “And then what?”

“Licking your sweet pussy until you come on my face.”

A shiver runs through her, and she smiles wickedly, leaning into me harder. “Let’s get somewhere, fast,” she whispers, a naughty gleam in her eyes.