Page 56 of Lily and the Billionaire Prince

Lily didn’t bother removing her coat or shoes. The maids hadn’t been in to light a fire since her too-early departure earlier that morning and a chill lingered in the drafty castle room. Feeling more like an imposter than before, she settled onto the bench situated at the end of the room’s bed and stared at the black, scorched stones. She felt like those stones. Lit by fire, by a driving force with the power to add heat, light, and direction to her life, only to have the flames be snuffed out. All hope dashed. Trailing nothing but cold, dark bleakness.

Raised voices echoed from below, making her recall her first night here. No doubt Henrik and his father were arguing again. She hadn’t meant to deepen the rift between father and son any further than it already was. That only made her regrets worse.

“I never should have come here,” she said to herself. She was stranded here. Stranded in life. Everything she tried to do to better her situation backfired, leaving her to face the battlefield alone. If only she could talk to Ethan or Snow, or even Aaliyah, but Damon had taken her phone and she’d never gotten it back.

Damon’s arrival, being forced into a car with him, had been terrifying. She couldn’t believe he’d posted not one, but two of the mortifying emails. Had Patrick Billingsworth’s agent seen them? She could contact him again, try to explain the situation.

What would Henrik and the King do to Damon after this? Whatever their sentence was, Lily was sure it wouldn’t be near what that lowlife deserved. How many people had seen those screenshots? How could she ever face anyone—face Henrik—after this?

She hadn’t meant to sleep, but Lily blinked awake to find her arms tucked beneath her head on the end of the bed. The sun blared warmth and light against her window. She stretched at the discomfort falling asleep in such a position brought. Tiredness was bone-deep. She was so done. So sick. So defeated. The feeling lingered in her chest and beneath her eyes.

A knock resonated at her door. The sound baffled her. Why bother knocking? She was a captive here, escorted to her room by the royal guards. Why defer to her before entering?

When she didn’t respond, the handle clicked, and Henrik entered. He’d shrugged out of the fine suitcoat he’d worn earlier during his extremely romantic almost-proposal. A proposal she completely ruined because of who she was. He’d gotten up just as early as she had, and the day’s strain wore on his handsome face. Dark circles lined beneath his eyes, and his mouth thinned.

Lily wasn’t sure what he was doing here. She wasn’t sure whatshewas doing here.

“How are you?” he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut. His voice was so tender, so sympathetic and concerned. She didn’t deserve his kindness. Couldn’t he rail at her? Call her names, tell her how horrible she was?

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

Henrik’s throat worked. He bobbed his head a few times. “Do you mind if we talk?”

Lily shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but from her periphery, she watched him slide a chair closer to where she sat. What a mess she must look. She hadn’t seen her chop-job, but her hair was probably awful. Her eyes felt puffy, worn, and haggard and probably reflected how awful she felt inside.

Henrik lowered himself to the chair and steepled his fingers. His gaze had impact, but she still couldn’t meet it. “The man you owed money to when we first met,” Henrik began. “Damon. That was him?”

“Yes,” Lily admitted. No point in hiding anything from him now. Shame spilled over her at the admission. She was the lowest of the low. Why was Henrik bothering to see her or speak to her again? She felt ugly, used, and useless.

“He posted a few pictures of the emails you mentioned on my social media page.”

Her stomach turned into a sewer. She knew Damon had posted them, but hearing as much from Henrik only confirmed her vulnerability.

“I demanded the photos’ removal, though that won’t ensure they’re not in someone else’s possession by now.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He chuckled humorlessly, bowing his head, shoulders shaking. “You’re sorry,” he repeated. “A man is blackmailing you, and you’re sorry?”

What else was she supposed to say? Perplexed, Lily chanced a peek at him. Henrik pressed his lips in kindness.

“How many emails are there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Originally, there was a string of correspondence, but clearly, Damon has tampered with what was originally said. I never made any kind of offer to Patrick Billingsworth. Everything had been done with the utmost professionalism, Henrik. Damon managed to add himself to the chain and began propositioning them for money and that’s when it all went south.”

“Why haven’t you had him arrested for violating your privacy?”

“I—” She swallowed, knowing how pathetic it sounded. “I signed another agreement with Patrick’s agent that none of the interactions we’d been considering would surface because even rumor could damage the actor’s reputation. So I agreed that we would let the matter end. Damon did too, but then when the threats started, he promised he would make it look like the indiscretion was mine alone. I was scared, Henrik. So scared of what he might do to me. And after what happened with my parents, I didn’t feel like I deserved the help. I guess I felt like I brought his manipulation on myself.”

Henrik bobbed his head as if accepting her answers.

She hurried on. “I’m not that kind of girl, Henrik. He added those words to make it look like I said them, but the conversation never went there during our negotiations.” She cringed. “He’s been holding them over my head since.”

“I believe you,” he said. “But my father thinks I should sever ties with you.”

“He’s right,” Lily said.

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