Page 159 of Vengeful Princess

“And you didn’t think to mention Thea was the girl in the red wig?”

Milo shrugged. “You didn’t ask me if I knew who she was.”

Landon threw his hands in the air. “A head’s up would have been good!” he yelled, attracting way too much attention for my liking. “I spent ages feeling guilty about beating one out in front of a random girl when my heart already belonged to Thea!”

Eden gasped with outrage. “Oh my god, you cheated on my bestie?”

“What? NO!” He raked his fingers through his tousled hair, looking almost as confused as Milo at the turn this conversation had taken. “How could I have cheated on Thea when it was Thea watching me?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know thatat the time, fuckboy!” Eden sneered, looking disgusted on my behalf. Just as I was about to thank her for having my back, she winked.Oh.She was winding him up.Fair.

Landon hadn’t worked that out, though. “God, seriously? It’s hardly my fault some random chick walked in on me while I was partaking in some stress relief. If anything, it was her in the wrong for perving on me in a vulnerable moment!” The moment he realized what he’d said, he almost choked.

“So I’m a pervert now?” Thank God for Eden. She’d successfully diverted the conversation away from the fact I’d omitted to tell them I was at the ball. Landon was now so caught up in her nonsense, he didn’t know which way was up. Frankly, neither did I.

“God, no! It was hot.” His pupils dilated. “I loved you watching me.”

“Except you thought I was some random girl,” I spat with annoyance. It was hurtful, really. He’d claimed to like me, yet it hadn’t stopped him from jacking off in front of a strange woman - or so he’d believed.

On top of the whole Elaine thing, it was all too much. Sure, Eden was shit stirring, but she’d inadvertently reminded me I shouldn’t trust Landon Fucking Rothmore.

The phone my father had given me buzzed in my pocket and I froze. It had to be Dad or Torrance, and I couldn’t ignore either of them.

“I need some space,” I growled, done with this bullshit conversation.

“Thea, please, we should talk about this!”

“Not now, Landon.” I pushed his hand off my leg. My chair scraped the floor as I stood. Milo looked concerned, and Eden’s grin had slipped away, but they could deal. The longer I took to reply to Torrance or my father, the worse shit I was in.

85

Thea

Landon’s argument with Milo faded as I hustled out of the cafeteria, ignoring all the stares as usual. Ever since the four dickheads started paying me more attention, I'd become something of a social pariah.

Most of the girls on campus hated me because Landon was no longer interested in them. I got it. Really, I did. But I also gave no fucks. Once I was gone, he’d soon revert to his usual fuckboy behavior.

I flew up the steps to my room near the top of West Tower, half expecting Landon or Milo to chase after me, but neither of them did. Eden texted my burner phone, but I ignored her. I needed to reply to my father first.

His message was to the point.

Father: You failed.

I slumped down on my bed and gripped the phone so hard it was amazing it hadn’t cracked under the strain.

Was there any point in replying? He knew I hadn’t planted the drugs. If I had, the police would have found them.

What a mess. I should have done as he asked. Torrance was probably on his way here to collect me and take me home, where some awful punishment awaited. My ribs ached with phantom pains from the last beating as I thought about what my father would do to me once I was back in his care.

But now was not the time to worry about that. I needed to speak to Verity. Make sure she was safe. I’d not had a chance to talk to her since before London.

Needing to hear her voice, I hit call on Mrs Gia’s number. It rang and rang and then went to voicemail. I tried again, but the same thing happened.

A thread of anxiety unfurled in my chest. Mrs Gia didn’t always answer immediately, I reminded myself. She might be in the bathroom.

There was likely a simple explanation. I’d try again later.

The text message from my father taunted me from the bed. Two words. Psychological torture, designed to unbalance me before he struck.

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