Page 74 of Broken Prince

I swirled around. He looked so delicious in his tight black T-shirt stretching over his wide chest and thick arms, his hands buried in the pockets of his light-blue jeans.

I wanted to ask if he was sorry for leaving me dejected and wanting on the bed or if he was sorry for touching me. Either way, it would sting.

“Don’t apologize.” I waved my hand dismissively, trying to sound detached despite the shame and rejection still squeezing my heart painfully.

Luca frowned.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I meant that…mostly. “We all have the right to change our minds. You didn’t have all the cards in hand. You didn’t know about my…virgin status.” I felt the heat of the blush from rising to my cheeks—being a redhead with such pale skin didn’t help me sound stoic.

His frown deepened as he crossed his arms on his chest. Was he getting angry?

“A lot of men are not into inexperienced women. I get it, honestly.”Or at least I’m trying very hard to.

“Okay, let me get that straight. You think I ran away because you are a virgin and it made me want you less?”

I shrugged.

“Cassie, it made me want youmore.”

I arched an eyebrow with disbelief. “You ran away pretty fast.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No blood, no foul. We’re okay.”

He stood there studying me as if his dark eyes could see straight into my soul, and my body shivered at the intensity of it.

“I became darkness to protect the light, Cassie. I’m all darkness and you didn’t deserve to be tainted—not by me. That part of you doesn’t belong to me.”

“It was mine to give, Luca. I get to decide who I want to give that part of me to.” I took a deep breath.

“You don't know what you’re saying. You hate your parents for the people they killed. How many people did they hurt? Five? Ten?”

I pursed my lips in irritation; I knew he was no angel… “What’s your point?”

“I’ve killed at least five times that number with my own hands!” He showed me his hands in emphasis. “And have ordered many more. My hands are covered with a river of blood.”

“Were they bad people?”

“What?” He arched his eyebrows, my question taking him aback.

“Were they bad people?”

He seemed to think about it. “Yes, but It’s not really the point here, is it?”

“Actually it is. My parents killed old defenseless people out of greed. My parents are monsters. You killed killers and liars and people with blood on their hands.”

He shook his head. “Don’t make me the hero in this story, Cassandra.”

I laughed at that. “You’re not a hero—I'm not delusional. I might notknowthis life but I know enough. You are a villain,” I agreed. “But a villain can always be the hero in someone’s story… Just like the hero can be the villain in someone’s story. It’s all about perspectives.”

He let out a weary sigh. “Cassie…”

“It’s fine, I get it, I promise. I’m not mad. There’s nothing about last night that you need to atone for but—”

“But what?” he encouraged. “Ask anything.”

“I would very much like if we could just go back to before yesterday, pretend as if nothing happened,” I asked gently. “I’m too embarrassed and I’d like to forget, please.”

He looked away for a second as if he didn’t want me to see how it made him feel.

He finally looked back at me, his face his usual placid mask. “Yes, I think it’s wise. Friends?”

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