Page 135 of Vengeful Princess

He shoved his laptop in his messenger bag and half-smiled.

“Yes, Thea. With you.”

“Why?” Had he suffered an aneurysm in the stacks? Maybe he’d been body snatched by aliens with nasty little anal probes. It was the only explanation.

“Because I need a stiff drink and your company is acceptable.”

I scoffed. There he was. Lord Asshole, born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

“OK.” Why I’d just agreed to spend even more time with Cassian was a mystery, but whatever.

Father kept telling me to get closer to him, find out what Lucian was up to, so this was my chance. The class project didn’t count, as there were few opportunities to discuss anything not related to the stupid business idea, but maybe if we sat down together with alcohol in the mix, Mister stick-up-his-ass might loosen up a bit?

72

Cassian

The student bar at Abernethy College was small. It acted as a social hub, a place to hang out when the cafeteria closed. I rarely came here. If I wanted a drink, I preferred to crack open some booze in our apartment, away from people who didn’t know me and wouldn’t hesitate to take photos and sell them to the media.

Never being able to relax in public was a curse. When I was younger, I hadn’t cared much about the photographers who followed us around, eager to snap photos of me and my friends. I’d grown up living my life in the public eye. Dragged to social events with my parents, paraded as the handsome, blue-eyed only son of Lucian Forsyth.

It wasn’t until the press turned against me and my private life ended up splashed all over the world’s media that I learned not all publicity is good publicity.

Since then, I’d kept my nose mostly clean, and unless mandated by my father, I didn’t venture out in public.

But tonight, I needed a change of scenery. The atmosphere in our apartment had changed since Dario’s arrival. A blackcloud of toxic anger followed him wherever he went, and it was suffocating.

Each time he and Kyril crossed paths, one of them tried to provoke the other. The constant dick measuring and posturing was exhausting, and I was sick of it. As far as I was concerned, they needed to have it out. Preferably at the fight club, where I didn’t have to pay someone to clean up the blood.

It was quiet in the bar this evening. Hardly unexpected given the holidays were almost upon us and most people were trying to get assignments completed before they headed home. I had a couple of outstanding essays to write, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

Knowing Thea, she had a ton of work to do, but she never seemed concerned about college work. I’d overheard one of our professors calling her out on a late essay. She’d shrugged and said she’d send it in the morning. If I submitted work late, my father would have my head on a platter.

I guessed her family didn’t hold her to the same high standards as mine did me. She was lucky.

“Sit down and I’ll fetch us some drinks,” I told her when we walked in. From the annoyed look she threw me, she wanted to argue, but thankfully she kept her mouth shut for once. I wasn’t in the mood for her sass.

Not after listening to my father’s bullshit. He had a whole calendar of social activities planned for me over the festive holidays. Lots of events where he expected me to squire Camilla around and pretend to be excited about the prospect of making her my wife.

I wanted to vomit.

Since vomiting in a public place was uncouth, alcohol was the answer.

Lots of alcohol.

But I couldn’t drink alone. That would raise too many questions. Drinking with Thea would also trigger gossip, but since she and I were working together on a joint project, I had a ready-made excuse.

Back in the 1800s, this building housed animals. At least that was the story I’d been told when I first arrived.

It made sense. The place still felt like a barn. In summer, the floor-to-ceiling oak doors stayed open to allow air to circulate, but this time of year, they remained bolted shut, secured by cast-iron latches.

An open fireplace at one end of the room provided heat, which, given how thick the walls were, worked well enough.

While Thea took a seat near the fire, I ordered us both whiskeys. It was a cheaper brand than I was used to, but I didn’t care. Alcohol was alcohol. If it got me buzzed enough to forget about my father’s machinations, that was all that mattered.

Olivia stood propping up the bar with one of her girlfriends. She threw me a flirty glance while I waited for the bartender to ring up my order.

“Hey baby, are you looking for some company?” she asked, twirling her hair.

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