Page 57 of Fallen Prince

“I followed you tonight, just to be sure,” Francesca continued, as though my heart wasn’t crumbling in my chest. “But I got bored of waiting for you to finish your little fuckfest. Sorry if I interrupted something important. I’m sure you haven’t gotten laid in a while.” She smirked at me. “Unless it’s been long enough that you’ve been paying whores to get you off. Two years is a long time to be alone.” Her voice softened with false pity. “But seriously, how did you ever get pretty Allie to accept a monster like you? How did you even meet?”

I ground my teeth together, refusing to give her a single word. My mind raced. How would I explain my relationship with Allie? There was no way I could tell my family the truth about how we’d met: that I’d kidnapped and interrogated her about her father’s ties to the Bratva.

Not that they would be horrified by my actions. If I’d succeeded in getting the information I needed, I would’ve been celebrated by my family. Just like I’d planned.

But now, I couldn’t let them know why I’d gotten close to Allie. It might make someone else decide that they could try again. And they would use much harsher methods of extracting answers.

“How could you be so stupid, Max?” The falsely cheery mask finally dropped, and Francesca glowered at me. “We’re barely surviving. Uncle Tony is still in prison. And you’re fucking the mayor’s daughter? Do you want him to destroy what’s left of us? We’re not strong enough to withstand an attack right now. Not when Fitzgerald is still tight with scum like the Ivanovs. They would kill us all if he even suspected that you’re defiling his precious princess.”

I coiled tighter with each of her poisonous words. Because they were all true.

I’d endangered my entire family, and I’d endangered Allie. I couldn’t seem to help breaking everything I touched, and now I’d committed my worst sin ever.

All my months of work stalking Fitzgerald were wasted. I couldn’t even tell my father about my secretmission to restore our family to their rightful place. Everything was shattered beyond repair.

And worst of all, I’d put Allie at risk.

All along, I’d known that I shouldn’t get close to her. But I’d been too weak to resist. Francesca was right: no one had touched me since the fire.

But it was more than that. No one had ever looked at me like Allie did. Before I’d been scarred, women had only seen Paul Ferrara’s heir, a dangerous and alluring conquest. Those who dared to approach me had been viciously beautiful and power-hungry. Even the women who wanted to be with me were a little bit scared of me.

I’d loved their respect, their awe and fear. I’d loved the hedonism of having no responsibilities but plenty of money to burn on whiskey and blow. While my father had been in prison, I’d been free to do whatever the fuck I wanted.

As soon as he came home, he’d made it clear that I was an entitled little shit. Unworthy of being his heir.

Now, my supposed friends had abandoned me. Family was all I had left, and I’d almost forsaken them for Allie.

We arrived at the house, and my stomach turned. I hadn’t crossed the threshold in nearly two years. Assoon as I’d healed from the most debilitating burns, I’d moved out on my own. Anything to get away from the place where I’d been disciplined so harshly that I would bear the mark of my shame for the rest of my life.

“Fine,” Francesca sighed. “Don’t answer me. You can answer Father instead.” She shook her head at me. “Why won’t you let me help you, little brother? Do you always have to fuck up so bad?”

“You love when I fuck up,” I spat.

She let out a little hum of agreement. “How else would I ever get Father to take me seriously? I’m just a woman, after all. But it’s not my fault if his precious male heir is a failure.” She spoke flippantly, but the words were edged with years of resentment.

She had to fight to prove herself every day. If she fucked up even once, our father would marry her off, using her to secure an alliance or net a good payday for the family. Her ruthlessness and resourcefulness—and my failures—were the only things that protected her from that fate.

I would’ve felt sorry for her if she weren’t such a hateful bitch.

She opened her door, and I paused, jerking my chin in my cousins’ direction. “I’m not coming inside unless John and Paulie do too.”

Francesca released a derisive snort. “Don’t worry. They won’t go back and molest your girlfriend. No one wants that kind of conflict with Fitzgerald unless you force our hand. This meeting is for immediate family only.” A single dark brow rose. “Father is waiting.”

My gut twisted, and I barely suppressed a shudder.

Don’t show weakness.

Snakes writhed inside me as I got out of the car and walked up the front steps. Dread crept over my consciousness, as though I was walking to the gallows.

The cavernous entry hall was eerily dim, the only illumination coming from lights shaped like sconces on either side of the front door. The two additional stories of open air above faded into shadow, and only the first third of the curving double staircase was visible.

I assumed Francesca had orchestrated the dramatic lighting. She knew how to suffocate someone’s psyche before they even approached our father.

Even though I was familiar with her psychological warfare, the creeping darkness was still unnerving. Ghostly screams seemed to echo through the gloom, the memory of my own agony layering overmy mother’s cries for mercy. She’d begged for my worthless life, even as they’d brutalized her.

I managed to keep my shoulders relaxed until Francesca turned down the hallway leading to our father’s study. My feet stalled out, concrete weights on the crimson carpet.

She shot me a smirk over her shoulder. She knew how that place decimated me.

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