Page 120 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

As pathetic as it is, I can’t help but feel bloody left out.

“She knows how I feel,” I reply, looking out the window. Dawn is fast approaching as the inky darkness of the desert night begins to relent. The skies are an interesting shade of soft purple and pink hues.

I turn to Jagger, who grips the steering wheel with a sense of purpose, his eyes fixed on the winding road ahead.

“You have nothing to worry about, mate. I’ve seen how she looks at all of us. I’ve spent enough nights with you both to know that sometimes words aren’t necessary,” Jagger assures.

“Did you ever think we would all end up with the same woman?” Asher asks with a level of astonishment in his voice.

“Mate, I didn’t even contemplate Eden and I would ever hook up again, let alone go back to that relationship,” I admit.

“That’s right. You almost did end up with….what’s her face …..?”

“Jessie,” I cringe. The breakup was brutal.

“Is it true then?” Jagger asks.

Until recently, I rarely hung out with the guys. Maybe because old memories hurt or some shite, but the truth is I missed this. Us fellas, just talking.

“That I cheated on her at her sister’s wedding in Dubai?”

Both men nod.

“Not even close.”

“Come on, mate, it’s just us lads; expand on the story.”

“The story is. I never cheated on Jessie. End of story.”

“So…”

“Jessie fabricated the story, increased her followers, and became an overnight TikTok sensation, but Hayes Evans still rocks the top ten influencers, and my team back in London is running it without me. Sometimes things happen for a reason.”

“Does Eden know about her?”

“No, and I don’t see the relevance. Do people talk about their exes to their current partners? What would the new partner gain from it? I don’t see the reason. I almost married a woman. The key word here isalmost. Have either of us asked Eden about her exes?

“I don’t want to know. The idea of another man ….” Ash can’t even finish his sentence because the suggestion of it is incomprehensible.

“Exactly. What do we gain out of it, other than becoming seething lunatics because some knob touched our girl? She was always ours and somehow slipped through our fingers.

“A mistake never to be repeated again.”

“Except the bastard who’s re-inflicting this torment on her ….”

“Will die,” I confirm sternly, grappling with the overwhelming need to protect Eden, my every instinct screaming for justice.

“She hasn’t admitted it, but the fear and terror is written all over her face whenever she talks about what happened to her that night.”

“Three. There were fucking three. No wonder she fled.”

The mere thought of the stalker laying a finger on Eden sends a shiver down my spine, and the image of her vulnerability ignites a visceral rage within me.

“Do you reckon they …?”

“I’m beginning to suspect they did more than stalk.” My mind races through a kaleidoscope of vengeful scenarios, each more brutal than the last. The desire for retribution fuels a dark energy within me.

“They’re hunters. Played cat and mouse with her.”

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