Page 119 of Twisted Royals

“Seven of you?” My stepmother wants me dead, and I’m being protected by seven men. My brain actually hurts as I try to process the information. Or maybe that’s the aftereffects of whatever this Hunter person gave me to knock me out long enough to get me here. “Are the rest like you and Lucas?”

“Almost. Lucas is the oldest. Dylan’s the youngest. The rest of us fall somewhere in between. But we’re all built about the same if that’s what you mean.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police? If you have the recording of the call, then we can prove it, right?” I point to the phone.

“The police aren’t going to be much help against Vivian Snow.” He’s right. I know he is. If Vivian has truly taken over my father’s enterprises, she has more police on her payroll than the city does.

“I’m just going to stay here then?” Not exactly the way I saw the next chapter in my life starting.

“For the time being, yes. You’ll stay in the house or in the yard once we give you a tour of the place. It’s for your own safety and we take safety damn seriously, so don’t go messing around with it.” He pauses in the open doorway. “I meant what I said, none of us want to hurt you, but if you cause trouble… you’ll find trouble. Got it?”

I nod. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Good.”

After the door shuts, I grab a pillow and bury my face in it. Old habit from years of living away from home in boarding schools. Better to scream into a pillow than where any of the other girls or teachers could hear.

I’ll give myself a little time to panic, but then I have to figure out what comes next.

CHAPTER 4

Carter

It’s morning before Seraphina wakes up again. We let her sleep last night straight through dinner. The poor girl still looked exhausted when I checked on her at two in the morning. Dried tears stained her cheek as it rested against the pillow.

“I’m gonna get her for breakfast,” I tell the men. Seth grunts from the kitchen where he’s dishing out the scrambled eggs and bacon. Lucas just gives a nod.

“Don’t scare her,” Dylan calls after me.

“I’m not gonna scare her. I’m just getting her for food,” I mutter and make my way up the stairs.

She’s staying in the room between Lucas’ and mine. Everyone took turns watching out for her last night, since there’s no lock on the outside of her door. There’s nowhere she can run to, even if she gets out of the building. But she could damn well hurt herself trying.

I press my ear to the door to listen for sounds. Nothing. I knock on the door.

“What’s he being all gentlemanly about?” Seth grumbles from downstairs. “Open the fucking door and tell her to get her ass down here,” he barks.

I knock again then open the door.

She’s sitting on the bed with her legs folded beneath her. Her hair is pushed behind her ears, and her face looks freshly washed.

“Breakfast is ready,” I tell her.

“I’m not hungry.” She brings her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight. My gaze travels from her knees down her thighs to beneath the hem of the little pajama shorts she’s wearing.

She must realize I can see her panties, because she jumps off the bed and tugs the shorts down an inch, which only exposes a strip of her midriff.

“Stop staring at me like that, it’s rude,” she snaps at me, wrapping her arms around her middle. “I need clothes.”

I almost smile. She’s got a fire in her I wasn’t expecting. The pictures I’ve seen of her have all portrayed her as a docile little kitten. But I suspect she has some sharp-ass claws.

“I’m sure we can find you something after breakfast.” I turn for the door. The longer she’s in front of me in those shorts and thin t-shirt, the more I want to see what she looks like without them.

“I said I’m not hungry,” she argues.

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry. You need to come downstairs.”

Her throat works as she swallows hard and her piercing eyes flicker to the open door behind me. Running won’t get her anywhere, but she’s scared. Good decisions aren’t made in moments of fear.

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