Page 18 of Broken Prince

I’d tried to keep them for a while, an additional reminder of my sins and crimes. Every time I looked at my mangled face, it reminded me of the lives I’d taken.

Three scars marred my face. I traced the main one, going from my left temple to my chin—pulling down the side of my mouth in a perpetual pout. How fitting. The second went right through my left eye, cutting my eyebrows in two, and down to my jaw. These two scars met in the middle of my cheek in an angry redX. The doctor said it had been a miracle I had not lost my eye. A miracle, as if I deserved any. The piece of glass had damaged my cornea a bit, but it only reduced my vision in this eye, forcing me to now wear glasses.

The third one went through the front of my left ear down the side of my neck only half an inch from the carotid artery—another miracle they said. Nothing more than a curse to me.

I took a deep breath before taking a big sip of my drink. I sighed at the heat settling in my stomach. In a few more drinks the pain would be gone, and so would my regrets and everything surrounding it. I was eager for the numbness of alcohol, hating every morning when I was just lucid enough to feel it all again.

I topped up my drink and walked to the side room, the main library, picking out some books for the child before I was too drunk to pick something age-appropriate. Or maybe I shouldn’t; maybe he should know how fucked up life was. You’re born, you live in pain, and if you’re lucky enough you die early.

I shook my head; the kid was in social care and had serial killers as parents. He already knew how fucked up life was.

I picked three books and I looked at the abused copy ofThe Kite RunnerI’d taken back. I was not sure how this book made it anywhere near her floors. I’d read it so many times and hated that she could see that, that she'd have a view of my mind.

I sighed, putting it on the top of the pile before taking the back staircase and leaving the books in front of her bedroom door.

I took a deep breath; as impossible as it was I could smell her, a mix of peach and lavender—not two scents I would have put together, and yet it worked well together.

It was so different from Francesca's overwhelming expensive perfume and thousand times more attractive.

I shook my head; I really shouldn’t go there. First, because I didn't deserve reprieves and secondly, who would even want to be with a beast?

I went back to my office, grabbed my glass, and sat back behind my desk just in time to see a message appear.

Apology accepted.

What was I going to do with her?

Chapter Seven

LUCA

I was not sure how it exactly happened—well, yes, actually, I knew how it happened. What I didn’t understand was how and why I’d allowed it to happen. The daily chats with the fiery woman taking care of my home.

She was quite decent at it actually, better than I’d expected. She applied and got hired out of desperation from both sides and yet she managed to surprise me. She followed the rules…mostly. She cooked well, kept the house tidy.

On Thursday she’d come back with the books she’d given her brother and another pizza without pineapple this time. She’d also brought me a book and some more sweets. It was such a childlike thing to do—who brought sweets to a grown-ass man? That woman did and against all odds it made me smile, something still so unfamiliar to me, it felt weird when I did use muscles I’d not used for a while.

The book was calledThe Recluseand I couldn’t help but laugh at that. She really had a different sense of humor.

Did you enjoy the book?

Nope, it’d hit way too close to home to be enjoyable.Haven’t read it.Liar.I'm not much into books.That was not a complete lie. At least I hadn’t been much of a reader before. Too busy killing people, fucking women, and getting everything I wanted, when I wanted. But since I decided to exile myself in the middle of nowhere, reading, drinking, and wallowing in self-hatred had been my only pastimes.

How old are you?

I let out a startled laugh.That’s a random question.

Not really. You know everything about me and I know nothing about you.

I twisted my mouth to the side. I knew that nothing could ever happen between us, for so many reasons it would have taken me forever to give them all, but at the same time, I was not inclined to let her know how much older than her I was.

Next question.

*heavy sigh* Fine.Why have you readThe Kite Runnerso many times? It is such a depressing book.

Fuck, she had to go right for the guts.

I growled.I’m 32.

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