Prince of Hate (Royals of Harlington #1)

Prologue

Betrayed. He betrayed me.

The video I received earlier keeps replaying over and over in my head. And now I have to be there. At my engagement party.

I feel nauseous, and if I didn’t have to focus on this damned road and the paparazzi that have been tailing us for a while, I would smash something into pieces. Somehow, those jerks caught wind of it, because the car has been following me since I drove off. Since I fled from HIM.

That look. Full of guilt and regret when I confronted him about it.

Fuck.

My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and I feel the urge to scream.

“Please calm down, Phil. There must be a logical explanation for this, I think,” comes a soft voice from the seat beside me.

I glance sideways, and my heart feels a little lighter.

I lift one corner of my mouth. Amelia looks just as chaotic as I feel.

Some of her blonde curls have escaped her elegant updo, and her beautiful face is twisted into a grimace.

“If that’s your pathetic attempt to cheer me up, Lia, you definitely need more practice,” I joke dryly, briefly squeezing her small hand, which feels just as cold and clammy as mine.

“Well, it was worth a try. But seriously, we don’t know what really happened. Talk to them, Phil. And as for the rest, we both knew this day would come. Now we just have to make the best of it.”

She gives me one of those quick smiles I love so much, because when Amelia smiles, it’s like the sun breaks through, no matter how dark things feel. And right now, it feels like there’s nothing but darkness inside me..

“We might have known it was coming, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing, and you know it. I just… I just wish…” But I don’t get any further.

“Phil, watch out! That asshole is way too close.” Her voice is filled with panic, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch a paparazzo trying to overtake us.

Damn it, this is too tight. What an asshole. Is he out of his mind? It’s pitch dark, rain’s coming down in sheets, visibility is nonexistent, so why is he overtaking?

I flip him off, but instead of passing us, he pulls up beside me. I glance to the left, and rage surges through my veins.

That asshole, again.

A flash blinds me, and before I can react, I feel the Aston Martin slipping away, the steering wheel jerking out of my control.

Shit.

I try to get the car back on track, but I’m already too close to the edge.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

We start to skid, the rear fishtailing, and I hear Amelia gasp in horror. My stomach lurches.

This is going terribly wrong.

“Hold on, Lia!” I shout, just as the car spins and my world spirals out of control.

I need to brake. The thought flashes through my mind, but it’s no use. I’m slammed against the seat, the seatbelt cutting into my chest as we smash through the guardrail and fly off the embankment. Amelia looks at me, her eyes wide with terror.

Everything moves in slow motion, yet it all happens so fast as we crash into a tree. Blinding pain shoots through my body. I want to call out to Amelia, but everything goes black.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound echoes in my ears, over and over. The pressure on my chest feels like I’m being crushed alive as I struggle to catch my breath.

What happened?

I smell gasoline and smoke, but I can’t see anything. Why is everything so dark?

Images of a car tailing me flash through my foggy brain, but I can’t grasp them.

“Philipp… please… wake up.” Amelia.

But I am awake, aren’t I? Why does she sound so scared, so desperate?

It’s so damn cold. Why is it so cold?

Again, I try to take a breath, but I can’t. Damn it. Why can’t I?

“Phil… shit… you’re scaring me. Please stay with me. Hold on, the paramedics are on their way.” Amelia again, and she’s crying.

But I’m right here with her. I have no intention of leaving her. I’m just a little tired, and my stomach hurts a bit.

But I’ll be fine, little one.

The dull throbbing in my head and legs fades. It’s getting colder. Again, images of a wet road and me losing control of the car flash through my mind.

Shit, my head is so clouded by the fog that I don’t know how to make sense of it all.

Amelia’s voice sounds truly tortured now, full of sorrow, and I need to tell her that I’m here. That I just need to rest a little.

With great effort, I force my eyes open, but it feels wrong because I still can’t see anything.

Thump… thump… thump thump.

My heart has taken on a strange rhythm, and the cold gives way to a weightless.

“I love you… can you hear me? Hold on. Please…”

I love you too, little one. But I’m so tired, so very tired. I just want to sleep for a bit. I’ll feel better afterward, I promise. Don’t be mad.