Chapter 5
The darkness surrounding me is liberating as I watch my little sister from my armchair.
The glow of the streetlamp outside my apartment casts a pale light over her, making her look even paler than she already is, yet she sleeps peacefully.
Still, I don’t let my gaze waver for a second.
Lincoln insisted she needed to be watched through the night.
She should have been taken to a hospital, but that wasn’t an option without attracting public attention.
My blood still runs cold when I think about what a close call it was. How close I came to losing her, too.
Luckily for Lizzy, Lincoln got there in time and was able to help her. Because, apparently, Goldilocks was right, there were already traces of drugs in her system.
Fuck. Damn it, that was way too close.
I run a hand over my face as I think of Amelia. How panicked she was. And how harshly I shut her down. For a moment, guilt stirs in me, but I push it aside. Without her, Lizzy wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. End of discussion.
Yet, even as I sit here watching over my little sister, making sure she breathes steadily, my thoughts keep drifting back to Amelia. The woman I saw at The Purge doesn’t match the image I had of her. Shit, she’s nothing like I expected, and that’s unsettling.
She looked like a complete stranger. A stranger my dick desperately craves, because just thinking about her makes it throb with excitement.
Shit. I don’t even like her.
As if that ever bothered you while hooking up. Damn it.
“Www-where am I…?” My sister’s quiet, rasping voice breaks the silence, and thank God, she’s finally awake. I'm immediately by her side, watching her grimace.
“Ohh… my head is pounding… and why… do I have… the taste of dead cat in my mouth?” she rasps, trying to sit up.
“Slowly, Lizzy, damn it,” I scold her, and her head snaps in my direction.
“Nic? What? How? Where’s Amelia?” She looks at me in confusion but grimaces again as she moves too quickly, clutching her head.
“God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a train,” she murmurs and takes the glass of water that I’m holding out for her.
“We had to make you throw up. I guess that’s where the dead animal taste comes from. And now take it slow; your stomach is irritated from all that action,” I reply dryly, as she chokes on the water when she realizes what I said. I gently pat her back as she coughs, spilling water on my bedspread.
“Excuse me?” she asks, shocked, with a hoarse voice, and I take a deep breath.
“You were drunk. And some jerk put drugs in your drink. Twice. The second time, we noticed and stopped it, but you just collapsed. You…” My voice falters because, damn, I really could have lost her.
I clear my throat, swallow, and look back at my little sister, whose eyes reflect the same feelings I feel. Sorrow, fear, and love.
“You were lying there like you were dead. Amelia… Amelia thought you might have already taken some of that stuff, so I made you throw up in the club and then secretly brought you home. Lincoln gave you some drops to help you get the last bit out of your system and took care of you,” I finish, and she looks at me with wide eyes.
“I… I didn’t drink that much. But suddenly everything was so blurry and weird.
I remember thinking that maybe the drink was too strong.
I… oh shit—” She runs her hand through her hair and leans back against the pillow.
“God, I’m so sorry. Amelia… she must have been terrified.
You… oh heavens!” She sits up so abruptly that I flinch, raise an eyebrow, and look at her questioningly.
“Amelia. Where is she?”
Frustrated, I let out a huff because, of course, her first question is about her best friend.
What do you expect? You haven’t really taken care of her this past year, my subconscious taunts cheerfully, and I mentally give it the finger. It still pisses me off.
“I had the overprotective clinger sent home. She seriously thought I would take her with me. As if it wasn’t enough that soon I will have to deal with her every day. Her brother picked her up,” I reply gruffly, but Lizzy lets out a curse and hits me on the shoulder.
“Her brother? You called her brother, of all people? The biggest jerk under the sun? You’re an idiot, Nicolas of Harlington,” she scolds me and starts to climb out of bed.
But not under my watch.
“Ah-ah, madam, you’re staying right where you are.
You’re going to lie down and take it easy today.
Your body went through a lot yesterday, so rest,” I say, stopping her and gently but firmly pushing her back into bed.
She gasps briefly, shoots me a withering glance, but gives in. Thank whatever it is.
“Then bring me my phone. I need to see if everything is okay,” she continues to complain, and I roll my eyes as I hand her the phone.
She immediately tries to call Amelia, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Worried and frustrated, she throws it onto the bedspread, and her death stare meets mine again.
“And don’t talk about her like that. You don’t know her, and you’ll soon realize what a great person she is,” my sister grumbles at me and I mockingly raise my hands in appeasement. Because I doubt that I will ever completely change my mind about Goldilocks.
Although Lizzy’s exaggerated concern is starting to irritate me a bit.
“I don’t think so, but I’m happy to let you believe that. And now get some more sleep. Your body needs it,” I reply curtly, and she sticks her tongue out at me but then obediently lies back down, soon falling asleep again.
Lost in thought, I sit on my couch and stare out the window. The weight of what lies ahead makes the heaviness and sadness return. They tug at me again. The anger over this injustice simmers deep inside me, growing stronger and stronger, but for now, I can keep it at bay.
My brother shouldn’t be dead. And I shouldn’t have to marry this impossible woman. Yet I can’t change either of those things.
Game over. My time is up.
As I enter the newly furnished apartment that has been set up for me and my future wife, my stomach twists uncomfortably. I can only half-listen to the lecture my father is giving me.
“…you absolutely must… it’s important…” For a moment, my father’s monotonous voice breaks through to me, but I quickly tune out again. Apparently, it’s not enough that we’ll be meeting in the study soon to discuss the details of the next steps and the wedding date.
I feel like I’m going to puke. Really.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a movement and turn to see Amelia slowly and stiffly making her way through our new living room.
Her brother is right behind her. He says something, and when she doesn’t react immediately, he grabs her by the upper arm, making her flinch.
I narrow my eyes and scrutinize the two of them more closely.
Goldilocks looks tired, and even her carefully applied makeup can’t hide the deep circles under her eyes. Her clothing is once again plain, a navy-blue pantsuit with a white blouse, and her hair is pulled back into that tight bun again.
Shit, that looks painful.
Amelia with her wild, loose curls appears in my mind, and I wish I could reach into her hair to remove the pins she’s used to secure it.
“Nicolas, are you even listening to me?” My father’s hard, accusatory voice breaks through to me.
Oops.
“Sorry, I was just thinking, Father. What did you say?” I look at him with a smirk, and he exhales deeply.
“Nothing. We’ll meet in my study in ten minutes. Behave yourself.” With those words, he motions for Henry to accompany him and leaves me standing there. Alone with my future wife.
Silently, I lean against the doorframe and continue watching as she carries her things, brought in earlier by one of our butlers, into the adjoining bedroom.
She moves strangely, always careful not to make any sudden movements, but what’s even more peculiar is that she avoids my gaze and completely ignores my presence.
Which, unfortunately, does nothing to improve my mood.
Her dismissive demeanor makes me aggressive, reigniting that dark, cold anger inside me.
“So quiet today, Goldilocks? What’s wrong? Nothing to say about your little stunt yesterday?” I taunt from where I stand, but except for a slight flinch at the mention of her outing, she doesn’t react. And that seriously pisses me off.
Amelia turns her back to me and slowly walks into our bedroom again.
Damn it. Why the hell is this getting under my skin so much?
Before I even realize it, I’m quietly following her.
She stands by the massive window, staring absentmindedly outside. Which infuriates me even more. It drives me insane. Where did that little spitfire go?
I stop right behind her, feeling the warmth of her body, remembering how it felt pressed against mine, and my cock stirs eagerly in my pants.
Fuck.
She smells like lavender and vanilla, and I have to fight the urge not to rip those damn pins from her hair and bury my nose in her curls.
I’m seriously beyond saving.
“I don’t like being ignored, Amelia. Especially not by my future wife,” I murmur close to her ear, and shit, I’m this close to biting her earlobe or running my tongue along that delicate neck. The throbbing in my pants is getting unbearable, and I clench my hands into fists.
“Didn’t you want me to be a good little girl and keep my mouth shut? Weren’t those your exact words?” she asks quietly, but her voice sounds strangely hollow and emotionless. I like that even less.
My body automatically presses against hers, and now I’m the one who almost flinches. Because instead of pulling away, she leans into the touch.
“I wanted you to be good, not silent like a fish. So, what was that yesterday?” I try again, and this time, I can’t stop myself from brushing my nose along her neck. A shiver runs through her body, but she still doesn’t back away.
No, she shocks me again by turning to face me, and fuck, when those blue eyes meet mine, I’m lost.
A storm, no, a hurricane rages in them, and I am completely at its mercy. Pain, despair, sorrow. It’s all there. Woven into a wild maelstrom that pulls me under.
The sight nearly brings me to my knees, and it feels as if I’m being skinned alive.
“I just wanted to feel free again. Just once. It was a mistake. A huge mistake, and I paid for it. So let it go, Nicolas.”
The hopelessness in her voice hits me like a punch to the gut. I don’t like it. It’s cruel how submissive, how lost she looks right now, and for the first time, I start to truly doubt my theory that she’s after the throne.
Her eyes, those damn blue oceans that drag me under, that make me feel like I’m drowning, lock onto mine, and I swear, they’re piercing straight into my soul.
Fuck.
The tears shimmering in them are like a blow to the stomach, and I clench my teeth.
She confuses me. Her closeness confuses me. These eyes confuse me, and I do something incredibly stupid. I bring my lips close to hers.
The air between us buzzes, and my body vibrates with tension, being this close to her, and all these fucking emotions overwhelm me. They simply overrun me, and I can’t think straight anymore. Everything feels like it’s narrowing into a tunnel.
“I think you meant Lizzy paid for your stupidity, Goldilocks, hmm?” I whisper right against her lips, and now the storm in her eyes explodes into boundless pain.
Guilt flashes through them, and she recoils as if struck, stumbling away from me. She puts distance between us, and a sob escapes her lips.
She flinches again, as if in pain, before she straightens, and every last trace of emotion disappears from her beautiful face.
Empty. Now her eyes are empty and dull, and my stomach clenches when I realize what I just said.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“You are right. Lizzy paid the price, of course. Please excuse me, I still have a few things to do. I… I will see you at the meeting.” She evades my gaze and quickly pushes past me to scurry out of the room, and a short time later I hear the door slam.
And me? I stand there frozen in place, unable to move or to go after her. Unable to apologize.
I’m a goddamn asshole.
Completely drained, I run a hand over my face and wish I could just disappear. But first, I have to get through this whole shitty farce.
Whether I want to or not.