Page 83 of Wanted
“Why, again?” My father yawned.
“Why, Queen?” I asked, earning a gasp from my mother, who didn’t know I was starting to distance myself from her for good.
“I’m your mother!” she thundered.
“Act like it!” I retorted.
“She partied all night with Colton Richmond behind our backs. She drank, she did drugs, and she embarrassed the crown. Look at her attire. This isn’t how a princess of this palace behaves!” Penelope Wraith was fuming. If it weren’t for the heavy foundation covering her perfect face, she’d be redder than a fucking tomato. “There are pictures that the guards had to confiscate. They had to pay teenagers off so that they didn’t gossip about her childish conduct!”
I giggled to annoy them, and it worked.
“I don’t see why I should get punished for something that Aris and Weston do regularly,” I argued, unfolding my hands on my lap. I wasn’t a coy little girl. I was a young woman, even if I didn’t fuck anybody yet. Colton was up for it, quite literally. I wasn’t ready yet… Soon. “Aris had FOURTEEN birthday parties, doing everything that you listed above and fucking bitches left and right. Yet, he’s still getting his fifteenth birthday party. Don’t you think it’s a little excessive that he gets a party for every miserable year he’s been in my life? I barely get one!”
Special, my ass. My mother had lied to me. I wasn’t a unicorn. When I was drunk, I still felt her lies to be the truth. As soon as the alcohol dried up, I realized that my entire life had been a lie. I’d been living in a comfortable cocoon away from the hell of Katantia. And now, I had to deal with it.
“They’re my boys, and you’re you,” my father responded nonchalantly. “That’s not an argument. This is Katantia, and that’s the way our world works. Is there anything else you want from me?”
“I’m ready to go about my day,” I announced, flipping my long pink hair off my shoulders. The waves had flattened overnight.
“I want guards on her 24/7, and I want her phone privileges taken away. Colton Richmond needs to be kept away from our daughter. He might…” The queen mumbled the rest of her statement.
“Richmond? Brother of that whore who killed herself?” The amusement in my father’s face made my blood run cold. I could feel my heartbeat pounding away. Daddy wasn’t much of a Daddy. He was a monster, and my mother had lied about that, too. She’d allowed me to think we were an average family with a king who was only a little bit more independent than the rest of us. “Yes, Kamila, you don’t want to be hanging around him. He might kill himself, and then his parents will put that on us. Again. No phone for a week. Guards will be following you everywhere you go. You’re sixteen now. The men in this country might want a piece of your ass…” The queen twitched. “… but they aren’t getting any from you. We have all the whores in the world for that. The princess remains pure. Understand?”
I nodded.
“I’d like to cancel the car for her birthday,” the queen blurted out.
I snapped my head in her direction. “No! I… I learned how to drive so that I’d get a car. You promised. Please!”
“I don’t want you to have it. You don’t deserve your privileges if you’re not going to behave like a princess.” Her voice broke. Cruelty didn’t suit the traitor.
“We can’t cancel the car. It’s coming in a month. It’s already shipped.” The king pressed the button on his brand new computer, his attention wandering away from us. This benefited me, but I wanted what I had been promised when I’d been young. Why were they treating me like an average teen? I was their first-born, the next queen.
You’ll never be queen.
Swiftly, I covered my face before they could see my frustration.
“You can sell it once it arrives,” the queen suggested. I swallowed back whatever wretchedness battled inside of me.
“Sell what?” the king asked, typing the login password of his computer. He leaned forward, gawking at the keyboard.
“The car. Sell Kamila’s car,” the queen repeated.
“Can’t. I don’t have time. Leave now. My phone call’s about to start,” the king commented. The screen brightened up in front of his eyes, and he clicked his mouse, frustrated at the system that seemed slow to him.
“Aram, please,” my mother begged.
At that moment, I vowed that I’d never become that person. People would listen to me. Begging was for people like my mother, small and conforming. I paved my own ways. If I didn’t get my promised car, I’d get my own. I had friends all over the country. I’d find a way.
My father didn’t respond to my mother’s pleas. I couldn’t stand watching their pathetic exchange any longer, so I stormed out of my father’s office.
“Kamila! Get back here!” the queen yelled behind me, but I ignored her.
Pressing the button for the elevator, I called upon it to hurry the fuck up. Queen Penelope was about to catch up with me for a sequel to her car drama. I rolled my eyes at this shit. “Kamila! Please. Let’s talk. I only want what’s best for you!”
I shook my head, hissing. Finally, the elevator arrived, but my mother was too far away to stop me. She wasn’t one to jog in her heels. Once the elevator doors closed, I took a deep breath. I took out my secret Motorola flip phone from its hiding spot in my bra, and I messaged Colton.
“Last night was amazing!” I pressed the keys too fast and hard, messing up many times before getting my message right. “Let’s do it again. How about we go out alone next time? I want to spend more time with you before you leave for the States.”
