Page 138 of The Heart You Kept

This isn’t good.

I walk over to him with a smile. “Of course.” I go to take a seat beside him.

“In private.” He stands and marches out of the lounge and toward my office, his men scurry to keep up.

“Nice knowing you, man,” Lucien whispers.

“Not in the fucking mood for this shit,” I mutter under my breath as I follow him. He storms into my office, unimpressed, and I close the door with a sharp snap.

His eyes hold mine. “How has the event been?”

“Good. Cut to the chase.” I pour two glasses of Blue Label scotch and pass him one. We glare at each other as animosity bounces between us. King Volter and I don’t see eye to eye. We never have.

At first he didn’t want me to date Hermione and then he tried to force me to marry her.

“I have recently heard a story.” He lights a cigar and blows smoke my way.

“Such as?”

“You rejected the royal engagement ring.”

I take a sip of scotch and slosh it around my mouth, it burns all the way down. “I did.”

His jaw clenches. “Why?”

“Hermione and I won’t be marrying.”

“Since when?” he growls.

“That is none of your business. With all due respect, King Volter, this is a private matter between Hermione and me. I will not be discussing this with you.”

“You son of a fucking bitch.” He slams his drink down onto my desk, scotch sloshes over the side. “What kind of man makes a woman fall in love with him only to throw her aside when he tires of her company?”

“I have not tired of her company, stop being so fucking dramatic.” I roll my eyes into my drink. “We are simply no longer compatible.”

His eyes hold mine and he raises an eyebrow. “Who is she?”

“You need to leave.”

“Prescott…. If I find out that you have another in the wings there will be hell to pay.”

“Does this power trip work for you often?”

We glare at each other and he steps forward, bringing us face-to-face.

“If you hurt my daughter…it is not going to end well for you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“That’s a promise,” he sneers.

“Get. Out,” I whisper, my temperature rising.

“I’d hate for anything to happen to you.” He winks as he bites down on his cigar, without another word he leaves and I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Adrenaline is pumping through my veins. “What is it?” I answer.

“Um, boss. We’ve got a problem,” Philippe replies.