Page 43 of Tormented Royal

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I finish dressing by slipping my feet into a pair of black Louboutins to complete the look. I check out my reflection in the full-length mirror in the closet and feel almost prepared to face the day. After grabbing my bag, I head downstairs to find Smithy in the kitchen making pancakes.

My stomach revolts at the thought of even trying to eat anything. I take a deep breath as my mouth fills with acid. There is no way I’m going to vomit right now. No fucking way. “Smithy, I adore you, but I can’t eat.”

He startles a little as I put my bag on the stool and head to the coffee machine. The sweet nectar of the gods is going to be absolutely necessary today. I can feel it already. “Oh, Miss Octavia, you really should eat.”

“And you should really call me V. Or at the very least, Octavia,” I tease.

He scoffs at me, waving the spatula in my direction, looking highly offended. I’d worry if he wasn’t smiling with his eyes. “That, Miss Octavia, is never going to happen. Now, please sit and try to eat something. There were some developments overnight. I’ve already called Miss Indi. She won’t be able to get you this morning thanks to the vultures camped at the gates.”

My stomach drops at his words, and I drop onto the closest stool with a heavy sigh. Why is this my life? “Well, I guess school really is out of the question today then.”

He frowns at me and shakes his head, piquing my interest at what he could possibly have up his sleeve this early in the day. “I’ve already been on the phone with the school this morning. They’ve put more security measures in place. It’s not the first time they’ve needed to keep the media away. They are also aware that if we find out someone at the school created and leaked that video, we will be pressing charges, and including the school in the lawsuit if any of their equipment was used.”

“Thank you, Smithy.” Relief floods my system at not having to face school with people trying to take my picture all day. I mean, they will definitely try, but if there’s extra security in place, it’s unlikely any will be too successful.

He moves behind me to the refrigerator and pours a glass of juice before placing it in front of me. He pats my shoulder before saying, “Drink your juice, Miss Octavia. Only having coffee won’t be a good start to the day.”

I pick the juice up and take a sip as he raises an eyebrow, watching me to make sure I actually drink it before he moves back to the stove. He plates up a few pancakes for me, topping them with blueberries and whipped cream, before sliding it in front of me. “Now then, I’ve also arranged for you to ride into school with Master Saint. You can use the gate between the yards so that you don’t have to go out the front. Then they won’t know for some time that you’ve left.”

Relief floods my body at the thought of not having to go out the front of this house. The thought of facing it all before I even really start my day is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed. Bad bitch persona or not. “You’re the best, Smithy.”

“Just doing what I can, Miss Octavia.” I jump up and hug him tight. It takes him a second to react, but then he holds me just as tight.

I feel safer now than I have in a while. I guess I have more pseudo-dads than I realized. “Thank you, Smithy.”

He nods before motioning to the plate on the counter before me. “Anything for you, Miss Octavia. Now eat up, you don’t want to keep Master Saint waiting.”

I take a few bites of the pancakes, since my stomach is basically the home of nothing but butterflies right now. Enough to make him happy, but not so much that I feel sick. I love that Smithy arranged for East to take me in. Maybe going for a spin in his car will be a good start to the day.

I hop down and grab my bag, planting a kiss on Smithy’s cheek. “See you later!”

“Have a good day, Miss Octavia.”

I feel a little lighter as I cross the yard to the hidden gate between our property and the Saints’. It wasn’t there originally, but once I became such good friends with East and Lincoln when we were younger, Dad installed the gate for us.

I cross over onto the Saint property, and a shudder runs down my spine. It almost feels like I’m in enemy territory, but I just need to find East and haul ass out of here. I walk around the property, and it feels like I’ve gone back in time. Nothing over here has changed. This far back in the yard, it’s like I’m in a secret garden, protected from the rest of the world.

Walking around to the front of the house, I’m assaulted by memories of my childhood, which are not welcome considering everything that’s happened since I got back here.

I reach the front of the house and freeze, an icy drop of dread runs down my spine when I see the black Porsche sitting in the drive. Smithy wouldn’t have done this to me, right?

Then Lincoln walks out of the house and glares at me.

Fuck my life.

“Nope.”

I pop my ‘p’ and turn the fuck around. I’ll just take extra credit for my GPA.

“Octavia, stop being a brat and get in the fucking car.” The growl in his voice causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of my skin.

I spin back and glare at him, my anger like a writhing beast beneath my skin, just to find him leaning against his car. “You don’t get to call me a brat when this is your fucking fault.”

When he rolls his eyes, I swear my blood ignites. My rage grows to natural disaster levels.

Fuck this. He doesn’t get to win, and his total lack of denial is staggering. I strut back to the car, stopping before him and mirroring his pose. I fold my arms over my chest, stand tall, and jut out my chin. He raises an eyebrow before he stands up properly. I almost feel small standing before him. He’s easily a head taller than me, but I don’t give up any ground.

He moves and opens the door for me, I keep the smile from my face at the small win. “Get in the fucking car, Octavia. I won’t say it again.”


Tags: Lily Wildhart Romance