Chapter 7
Seven
Brooks
Aplus about Calira was that paparazzi and unauthorized recording were illegal here.
Recording anyone without their approval, especially a royal, carried a six-month jail sentence and fines.
Which meant I could make the biggest scene I wanted without worrying about it going viral.
Seeing Cory touch Daphne made me want to rip every finger off his hand, then force-feed them back to him for the next fucking week.
He was making a habit of touching what was mine.
I was about to make a habit of fucking up his life.
Ignoring the eyes on us, I stepped onto his shoes and got in his face.
“Go,” I hissed.
I stepped off his feet and shoved him. He shoved me back.
Cory squared his shoulders like he was stupid enough to fight me.
I laughed in his face. “You are the only one here who needs votes to stay in power.”
Sweat trickled down his forehead, smearing the ridiculous face paint. Fucking loser.
“I heard elections are this year,” I said in a taunting voice. “I’ll make sure every ally my family has backs your father’s opponent.”
Cory stepped back at the threat.
Amazing how quickly people behaved when you threatened their power instead of their life.
Him doing that finally gave me a clear view of Daphne. The prize I’d come here for.
My cock stirred at how damn gorgeous she looked.
That dress. Fuck, that dress.
Green silk hugged every curve I’d had my hands on before and wanted them on again. The hint of cleavage nearly undid me.
I wanted to see more of it. All of it.
God, how amazing would it feel to drag my cock between it before spilling my cum all over her nipples?
I dragged my tongue across my teeth and forced myself to look back at Cory.
Right now, I had bigger fish to fry. That fish was Cory.
Then I’d handle Daphne.
Cory raised his hands in surrender, the same way he had in the closet.
I slapped his shoulder twice. “Smart choice.”
He clipped me on his way past. I’d give him that tiny win.
Daphne shifted toward the crowd, thinking she could play runaway princess. I caught her above the elbow before she made it one step.
She stumbled in her heels as I dragged her away from the dance floor, outside the terrace, and up the heavy stone steps toward the cliffs.
She bitched the entire way but kept her voice down, which didn’t surprise me. Making a scene would piss off the king. I planned to use that to my full advantage.
The ocean breeze whipped against us harder the farther I dragged her away from the ball. Away from the lights. The crowd. Anyone who could save her.
I finally stopped where the cliffside path narrowed, barely leaving room for the two of us. Black waves smashed into the rocks hard enough to kill anyone stupid enough to fall under us.
“What the hell, Brooks?” Daphne snapped.
She tried slipping out of my hold, but there was none of her usual clawing, kicking, or pathetic-ass fighting.
Every movement was careful.
She’s scared.
She was trapped between a cliff and me. Her worst nightmare.
I kept one arm around her waist. She sucked in a quick breath, her chest expanding against my arm.
Don’t you fucking do it.
She turned fucking stupid.
She screamed.
There went my fucking patience.
I spun her around and hauled her back against my chest, clamping my hand over her mouth.
“Do that again, and your next scream will be on the way down after I throw you over,” I warned, my lips brushing over her earlobe.
Strands of her hair tore free from her tiara.
The shitty moonlight pissed me off. I wanted a better look at her.
Her fear. Her anger.
I wanted to watch every emotion move across that pretty face.
I ran my tongue over her ear. “Do you think having another man’s hands on you is cute?”
She yelled something against my palm.
I was sure it wasn’t a fucking apology, so I didn’t move it.
Her breath warmed my palm as I pushed her back until one of her heels hung over the edge.
She immediately went still.
This was reckless. I knew that, but didn’t care.
Daphne had spent years testing me, pushing me, making me want things I shouldn’t.
Tonight, I was making my point. If we both drowned because of it, so fucking be it.
Her panicked words vibrated against my hand. I finally moved it, wanting to hear her excuse.
It better be a fucking good one.
The second my hand left her mouth, she sucked in a ragged breath. “Seriously, Brooks, you’re scaring the shit out of me.”
That wasn’t a fucking explanation.
“Good. This is how close you are to pushing me too fucking far.”
I turned her to face me and locked my forearm across her lower back. I leaned over the edge until both her feet left the ground. I dug my shoes into the gravel and widened my stance for balance.
“Brooks!” She hit my shoulder, twisting toward the drop behind her.
When I refused to budge, she scrambled for solid ground. Her heels slipped free and tumbled into the darkness below.
“Swear to me you’ll never let another man touch you.” I kept her right where she was.
The diamonds on her headpiece knocked against her forehead as she frantically shook her head.
“I hate you,” she snarled.
“Good.” I tightened my arm around her. “The next time any man touches you, you tell me. You sure as fuck don’t dance with him. The only man who puts his hands on you is me. Fucking swear it.”
She finally stopped looking at the drop and met my stare. “I’d rather die.”
“Oh, really?” I loosened my hold on her.
Her body slipped lower. Stone crumbled under her.
I could let go.
Let go and rid myself of the woman who’d haunted me for years.
The daughter of my father’s enemy.
The biggest problem of my fucking life.
My life would be a hell of a lot easier.
And a hell of a lot emptier.
She screamed bloody fucking murder.
So loud that I was surprised her throat didn’t give out.
“Why are you screaming?” I asked, pretending it wasn’t taking every ounce of my strength to hold her with one arm. “I thought you’d rather die.”
“I hate you,” she gasped. “If I’m about to die, I want those to be my last words.”
My forearm burned, and my grip slipped a fraction. “Agree, or I let go.”
She answered with nothing but strained groans as she fought to pull herself higher.
The longer I held her there, the harder my arm shook from the strain. Her screams faded into ragged breaths.
She finally stopped wasting her energy.
Smart girl.
But still stupid enough to test the man holding her over a cliff.
The one who was about to decide whether she lived or died.