Page 20 of King of Pride

Her clothes from the previous night were scattered across the floor.

Rose immediately sat up. She loosened her grip on the towel, quickly reached for her clothes, and pulled them on as fast as she could. The sound of running water continued from the bathroom, and the longer she listened to it, the more urgently she felt the need to leave.

She slipped off the bed and quietly crossed the room.

After glancing toward the bathroom one last time, she carefully opened the door and slipped outside, closing it behind her without making a sound.

Then she hurried down the stairs.

The party from the previous night was long over. There was barely any indication that hundreds of people had filled the palace only a few hours earlier. Everything had already been cleaned and restored to its usual immaculate condition. The Aurelia Palace was once again silent and pristine, just as one would expect from the Bishops' luxurious property.

Not a single voice could be heard.

Rose's footsteps echoed faintly as she hurried through the empty halls and toward the entrance. The moment she stepped outside, she looked around frantically.

Her heart still pounding, she hurried toward the main street. The moment she spotted a cab approaching, she raised her hand and flagged it down.

She climbed inside and immediately gave the driver her address.

“Drive to Park Avenue and 72nd, please.”

The driver nodded and started the car.

The cab pulled away, carrying Rose farther and farther from the palace.

She sank back against the seat and finally allowed herself to close her eyes.

It didn't help.

The moment her eyes closed, memories of the previous night came rushing back.

Maverick.

His face appeared in her mind so vividly that she immediately opened her eyes again.

But even with her eyes open, she could still see him.

She looked out the window, trying to focus on the passing streets, but her thoughts refused to cooperate. Every few seconds, his face returned to her mind, followed by the memory of his voice, his gaze, and the way he had looked at her.

It was as though Maverick Bishop had somehow taken over every corner of her mind and refused to leave.

Rose pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

It didn't work.

Embarrassment rushed through Rose’s face. She covered it with both hands and let out a muffled groan.

“What the hell is wrong with me? How could I sleep with the demon?”

There was only silence in the cab, of course. No one was there to answer her.

By the time the cab finally came to a stop in front of the Monroe house, Rose had managed to calm herself somewhat. The evening had begun to settle over the horizon, the last traces of sunlight fading as the sun dipped lower.

She paid the driver and climbed out of the cab, then hurried up the steps and slipped quietly inside the large house.

Rose closed the door behind her as carefully as possible and began moving through the halls on tiptoe. She glanced around as she walked, checking to make sure no one was nearby. Seeing no one, she continued toward the staircase, hoping she could make it to her bedroom without being noticed.

She had barely taken a few steps when she turned—and nearly walked straight into someone.