Page 38 of Deceit

When she realizes I’m not going to answer, she lets out a soft irritated breath before leaning back into her seat. She stares out the window, solemnly speaking as she does.

“So, what does this all mean for me? My future? Are you saying I’ll never truly be free from my father? Even after we marry?”

I shake my head. “Freedom is an illusion, Princess. This place,” I say, gesturing around at the grand gothic buildings surrounding us. “It’s all smoke and mirrors. Beautiful on the outside, captivating, promising life’s biggest riches and rewards. Everything comes at a price, though.”

“What price will I have to pay?” she asks.

My eyes come to her, flicking back and forth between her pretty green ones.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

She nods at that, looking down at her hands in her lap before she speaks again.

“Thank you, for telling me. You didn’t have to, I don’t think anyone else would have.”

I’m shocked she’s thanking me, this isn’t what we do. We hate each other, that’s what I know. That’s what I’m comfortablewith. I don’t know what to do with her…her gratitude. So, I try to dismiss it.

“No one else would have, because they don’t want to see you wind up dead,” I say bluntly, making it clear that I have no such qualms.

To my surprise, she doesn’t wince or glare. She doesn’t look hurt in the slightest. Instead, she nods like I’ve said something well thought out and reasoned.

“I appreciate the honesty. I can’t see the knife coming for my back if my eyes are facing forward.”

True.

“You can’t stop a knife just because you are looking at it,” I counter.

She shrugs. “You’re probably right, but at least I won’t be the naïve girl that never saw it coming.”

I wouldn’t say I’m impressed, but I am a bit taken back. She’s smarter than I anticipated, more aware. Just because she’s been kept in the dark over the last fourteen years, doesn’t mean she isn’t sharp. Sharper than I expected.

“So, can we call a truce or something?” she asks.

I furrow my brows at that.

“Why would we do that?”

“Well, you don’t want to marry me and I definitely don’t want to marry you,” she laughs hollowly with a shake of her head.

Irritation fills me, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’ve been the Brethren’s most eligible bachelor my entire life. I had three dates to prom, because women wouldn’t stop throwing themselves at me. The day my betrothal was announced, dozens of women sobbed . Why the fuck doesn’t she want to marry me?

“So,” she continues, “until we can find a way out of this god awful impending marriage, maybe we could at least be cordial to each other?”

“There is no way out,” I say stoically.

She shrugs. “Then maybe we can be amicable roommates.”

I narrow my eyes at her, waiting for the but, some type of condition or clause. She seems to be done speaking, though.

“Sure,” I say hesitantly, noting the pleased smile that upticks her full lips before she opens the car door.

It swings upward and she smoothly slides out of the seat with her clutch in hand. She doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t invite me up to her room and she doesn't even try to make a move on me. Not like I would have allowed any of those things to happen. Right? Yeah, no.

She’s still the enemy. I want the fuck out of this god awful match. Though she has a wet dream body and a mouth I’d love to sink into, there are plenty of women willing, ready and already dripping for me.

I close the door, stealing one more glance, as the Princess happily walks herself to her dorm, completely unaware of the predators surrounding her in the dark. A good guy would walk her to her dorm and make sure she got there safely. Too bad there isn’t a good guy around.

I step inside my dorm, tossing my keys onto the counter when I see Liam is sitting on the overstuffed bean bag chair in the corner, scrolling on his phone.

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