Fatal Princess by Ella Miles

Ri

I felt like a goddess coming under the moonlight and stars. It felt freeing to be touched by four guys at once without them wanting anything in return from me. If I’m not careful, I’m not going to be able to come without multiple men worshipping me.

I chuckle.

I’ve only made it just inside the house. The lights are off inside, so they can’t see me. I touch my bottom lip as I think about what I just did.

Again.

This is the second time I’ve had multiple guys fuck me at once.

And yet, all I want is one.

I take a deep breath, my lungs rising and slamming down in my ribcage. I feel better than I have in days. From the orgasm, from making Beckett watch, from making him suffer. He may not love me, but he definitely didn’t like me shoving that in his face.

I’m not healed. I’m not magically fixed, but damn do I feel better—stronger and in more control.

I watch the guys for a second longer before I head up the stairs. I fall into bed, not bothering to shower or wipe their scent off of me. I just collapse and sleep for the first time in days.

I wake up to see it’s still pitch-black outside—so much for a long, refreshing sleep.

I sigh and pad to the bathroom to pee, hoping I’ll be able to fall back asleep afterward. The second my feet hit the ground, though, I realize my waking has nothing to do with a full bladder. I have unfinished business with a certain someone, and it needs finishing—now.

I wrap a robe from the closet around me, put my gun in the pocket, and then head downstairs. It’s early in the morning, but I might as well make myself a cup of coffee to wait for him to wake up.

I make it down the stairs, and the hairs on my arms stiffen—Beckett’s awake.

I consider running back upstairs and pretending to sleep, but I won’t cower. I need to face him. I got my strength back; now I have to deal with reality. I’m sure he came here for answers, needing them as badly as I do.

He wants to know why I helped Odette, why I lied to him. I need to know why he was going to kill me, but not after taking my heart and soul and everything I am. He could have just killed me without making me fall for him.

I walk to the kitchen and see him sitting with his back to me at the circular table, staring out the back window. His back straightens when he hears my footsteps and feels that it’s me.

He doesn’t say anything.

Neither do I.

I walk to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, not because I really want the caffeine, but just to have something to fidget with before talking to him. Once I hear him say he loves Odette, his wife, I’ll crumple—not fully, not all the way again, but it will be hard to hear that he’ll forever be out of my life.

I get to the coffee maker and see a pot already made.

I sigh—so much for that plan. I pour myself a cup and turn to face the man I will probably always love.

He doesn’t turn around. He lets me come to him.

I take a seat opposite him, staring down at my coffee. After a few breaths, I finally look up.

He looks broken but not as shattered as I’d hoped. His eyes are puffy; his entire face looks swollen like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His hair is disheveled, and his clothes are wrinkly, like he hasn’t changed in days. Somehow, he’s still the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen.

Earlier, he didn’t talk, but I have no doubt he will now. He was letting me get everything off my chest before, and he knew there was no use talking to me until I had gotten out every emotion I was harboring.

Now that I did, and we’re alone, he’ll talk. Somehow that makes me more nervous. My hands begin trembling around the coffee mug.

“Why are you here?” I finally get out. I need to hear him talk. I need to hear that he loves her, that it has always been her.

The croak that initially leaves his throat is my first clue that he’s as anxious as me. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear the answer to that question yet.”

I frown. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t ready to hear it,” I snap.

“Well, I guess I’m not ready to answer it yet.”

I shake my head; maybe we aren’t going to be civil. “You made me fall in love with you. You took my heart, my soul, fucking everything. And then you dragged me in front of the Retribution Kings, tied me to a pole, and were about to shoot me for a crime I didn’t commit. You didn’t once ask me about what you found. Didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. Didn’t give me a chance to tell you that I was helping Odette, that I saved her. Your plan was always to kill me in front of everyone, regardless of what I did or said.” I catch my breath and glare at him. “You could have just killed me; you didn’t have to be so cruel as to make me love you first.”

“You love me?”

I roll my eyes. “Not really the point.” I’m not about to tell him flat out that I love him to his face, not after what he did.

He rubs his head, the muscles in his bicep flexing.

“Tell me,” he says.

“What?”

“Tell me what I didn’t give you the chance to say before. Tell me what you did for Odette.”

He doesn’t deserve an explanation, but I want to get everything off my chest and be done with him after this conversation.

“I was running from a man named Kek.”

Beckett doesn’t react. I assume he’ll yell at me for not telling him who my stalker was earlier when I knew his name, but he doesn’t. His face remains neutral and impassive, so I clarify. “Kek is the man who has been stalking me.”

He nods slowly but doesn’t say anything. No veins bulge on his head; his cheeks don’t turn red; he just waits patiently for me to continue.

Huh?

“Vincent hired Kek to be my bodyguard and companion. He wasn’t much older than me, so Vincent thought we would get along.”

Beckett doesn’t ask any questions. He’s completely patient, giving me the floor. It feels strange, almost like I’m telling the story to myself.

“At first, Kek did his job. He helped Vincent train me on how to defend myself, how to wield a gun. He and Vincent taught me everything I know.” I swallow down the part of me that feels grateful to two men who helped give me the skills to protect myself while also offering me up as a complete sacrifice.

“Kek came up with this idea one day to help protect me. He thought that if I could self-hypnotize, then even if the worst happened and I was kidnapped and tortured, at least I could be ordered to forget the pain.”

Beckett’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare at that, but he still doesn’t speak.

“So for years, he worked on that with me. He helped me learn how to hypnotize myself, to help me forget things in case I needed to for my own sanity. It worked. In order for my mind to forget, all I need is a single phrase whispered in my ear.”

Beckett leans in.

“No, I’m not going to tell you that phrase.”

He smirks and shakes his head.

“But somewhere along the line, Kek no longer became my friend or protector. Maybe he never was. I was too young to do much about him at first. But eventually, Vincent realized Kek’s intentions had changed and fired him. He would have killed him, but he vanished, and that was good enough for Vincent.”

Beckett’s throat bobs up and down, and I can see the question in his eyes.

“Ask me,” I say, knowing what he wants to ask.

“Did he—did he rape you? Abuse you?”

“Not in that way, no. But he did hurt me.”

The veins in Beckett’s arms pop as his hand fists. I can feel rage rippling off him.

“I was running from Kek the day of your wedding. He’s the one man who scares me. He’s the one man who knows the phrase that can control my mind, make me forget. He knows my physical skills—my strengths and weaknesses. As much as I want to face him, I can’t. So I ran and ended up crashing your wedding.” I wince. “Sorry about that.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

“That night, I was hiding in the hotel when I ran into Odette during the reception. I saw terror and fear in her eyes. I didn’t know who she was running from, but I knew it was the same fear I was harboring. I told her I’d help her, so I did.”

I meet Beckett’s gaze, unsure of how he’s going to react. He looks heartbroken. I may have helped Odette, but I also caused him so much pain while he endured her being gone, thinking she would never come back.

My own chest tightens, thinking about the suffering he went through. It’s the same heartbreak I feel now. He must have felt so betrayed.

He deserves to hear the rest.

“I hid in your hotel suite, hoping to god I wouldn’t have to hear any newlywed sex.” I wince, remembering them coming into the room. The sounds of their laughs, their kisses—they sounded so fucking happy. My heart swelled listening while also feeling like I was invading a very private moment.

“And then you left to go get her bag. We had limited time before we knew you’d return. We knew there was a video camera, so we had to make it look real while also not seriously hurting Odette so she could run.”

I close my eyes, remembering it all clearly now.

“I used a knife. I sliced her skin. Her screams were real. I hated hurting her, but it was the only way. She had a bag of her blood I burst against her chest. That’s where most of the blood came from, not from any real wound I inflicted.

“I tied her up, and then she had me call a number for her. I don’t know who the men were that helped her escape, but my job was done. Before I left, I knew I could offer her one last thing. I wasn’t sure what my future held. I knew that the same dangerous people that were after me could have been after her. If they caught me, I might tell them the truth about Odette—that she wasn’t dead.”

My throat closes up, thinking about how desperate Odette was at that moment. “So I told Odette my greatest secret.”

Beckett leans so far forward in his chair over the table that he might as well be sitting directly in front of me with no table in front of us. He holds his breath as he waits.

“I told her the phrase that would make me forget. She used it. I forgot. Then I ran into Kek in the hallway. His knife cut into my skin, mixing Odette’s blood with my own. Helping her almost got me caught, but my adrenaline must have been high because I fought him off and got to the elevator before he could follow me. That’s when I ran into you.”

We stare at each other across the empty table, lost in each others’ eyes, knowing this might be the last time we sit like this. I don’t know if his feelings were ever real toward me, but mine certainly were.

This is the last time I’ll let myself feel any glimmer of love for him. After today, I’ll lock it all away. When I hear about him and Odette living happily ever after, I won’t secretly be pining for him from a distance.

I beg Beckett to speak first. I’m not sure I can say another word. I’m not sure I can bear my heart for much longer. He needs to say his peace. He needs to finish breaking my heart. And then he needs to leave me, forever.

“Please,” I whisper so quietly I’m not sure he can hear me. There’s a tear at the corner of my eye, but I refuse to release it until he’s gone.

Beckett takes a long time to respond, his face looking like he’s about to shatter right along with me. He opens his mouth and closes it so many times that he begins to look like a fish to me. It slightly lifts my mood.

Finally, he says, “I don’t love Odette.”