I read her message to Winter. She needs a night out. I stalked my princess all morning. She hit up different stores, bought all kinds of ridiculous shit she won’t use: a transmission, a boat, a pool, a lawn mower—all just to upset me. But, to be honest, I have enough money to fund a few countries. I’ll let her think she has power here; let her live in her delulu world.
I knew she was going to find out what I’ve done to her, how I tricked her into marriage, but it needed to be done. She wasn’t going to accept my hand in marriage, so I took matters into my own hands. Now she’s trapped with me for the rest of our lives. She needs to learn that she has no control in her life.
I told her to stay inside tonight because Shelby Miller was stabbed to death in her dorm room. From what Jameson told me, whoever did it is a skilled killer. The board members stopped informing me of the case because I’m a suspect, so he’s my inside man.
Heat rises rapidly through my limbs as I grind my teeth.
The board wants to keep it a secret because they don’t want to cause fear among the students. Personally, I think it’s because if students found out there’s a serial killer on the loose, the parents—members of the American Billionaire Club—would pull their kids out of the school.
I put my helmet on, hop on my bike, and cruise through the nightly campus. When I pull up to the mansion, people litter the lawn, and someone’s passed out drunk. Three Days Grace booms in the chilly air. That’s one thing I don’t miss about living here—their goddamn parties. I tried to steer clear of them when I lived here.
I walk into the crowded living room. Jameson hands me a beer. His pupils are dilated; he must be high on coke. That’s his drug. Me? I don’t see the point in paying thousands of dollars for a few minutes of a high. Waste of money and energy. Sex and weed are my favorite highs.
“Where the fuck is my wife?”
He points upstairs. “She’s in Keanu’s room.”
I frown, then head upstairs. I open Keanu’s door. This bastard is still the same—clean, neat, everything has to have a place. Lilac rests on the bed next to Winter as they lookat bridesmaid dresses. She glances up at me, brow scrunched, rolling her eyes.
She sits up on her knees. “What are you doing here?” she snaps.
I stare at the tight sweater dress wrapped around her small frame. My dick gets hard just looking at her. She’s more beautiful than a painting.
“You were supposed to be at home.”
She laughs. “You told me to be home, and I refuse to listen to you. You’re not the boss of me. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do than stalk me? Get a life, Irvin.” Her words are colder than usual.
Winter glances between us, then gets up and hides Lilac behind her.
My stomach churns. I grind my teeth. Winter really thinks she can keep me from my princess? How comical. Lilac clings to her, and if she clings to her any longer, we’re going to have a fucking problem. I’m the only person she’s supposed to cling to.
“Leave, Winter,” I demand.
She lifts her chin and straightens her shoulders. “No. Only if Lilac tells me to leave.”
I bite my lip—hard—and step forward. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Winter’s lips tremble. Her body leans back. She frowns. “I said no.”
Lilac tugs on her arm harder, watching me like a hawk.
“Leave, Winter,” Lilac warns.
Winter stares at her. “Are you sure?”
Lilac nods. “I’m okay.”
Winter glares at me and stomps to the door. “I’ll be right outside that door if you need me.”
I march up to Lilac, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “You need to remember who you belong to.”
She steps back. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I belong to you,” she snaps, folding her arms across her chest. “What are you going to do about it if I don’t do what you say?”
She storms out of the room.
I’m on her heels, following her into the living room. Most of the party has died down.
“Good question,” I say. “Disobey me and find out.”
