Page 59 of Reveal Me
Chapter Twenty-Six
LAYLA
Friday takes forever to arrive. I check my phone obsessively, hoping Sean will text. He doesn’t, despite the fact we’ve broken pretty much every other rule this month. But this time the silence between us feels different. I hurt him by going out with another man. It was unintentional, but undeniable. Yet despite that, his main concern was for me. IfIwas okay. My own mother didn’t give a continental crap about how I felt, only how things looked. Sean is the only man I’ve ever met who treated me like a person and not a possession. His hurt, and the jealously I glimpsed in his eyes stemmed from something real, something raw—which thrills me, and terrifies me in equal measures.
By the time I sneak out of Ardmore, my nerves are shredded. I’ve replayed the events of the Hunt Ball a thousand times in my head. Is he going to punish me? There’s a darkness in him that suggests he’s capable of it, yet, here I am, about to willingly walk into the lion’s den, because I’m utterly infatuated with him. I’ve never met anyone quite like him, nor am I likely to again.
I spent the last couple of days considering my options,but I have no idea if those options include a real relationship with Sean Beckett. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. His anger. His despair. His disappointment. And I want to fix it. I want to get back to us, because even though there technically isn’t supposed to be an us—this is the most real relationship I’ve ever had. And if his reaction this week was anything to go by, he feels the same—whether he’ll admit it or not is a different matter entirely.
Could we have a real relationship?
Would he want one?
Would the public really despise me?
I wouldn’t be the first royal to step down.
I’m damn sure I won’t be the last.
Obviously, there’s the issue of financial security. I have a degree. I’m just not sure anyone would employ me. I have no real work experience. No references. No clue what kind of work I could even apply for.
Could I really do it? Step down and give myself a chance of finding real happiness?
And if I summon the strength to turn my back on duty, would Sean stand with me through the wreckage that would follow?
Each time we’re together, he exposes me not just physically, but mentally too—drawing out dark desires I didn’t even know I had until I stepped in here. He said it himself; he’s done a lot more down here.
Would I be enough for him?
I negotiate the Range Rover into a parking spot just outside the club’s discreet entrance with a heavy heart. The familiar black granite entrance looms ahead, but nothing about this feels familiar right now. I’m heading into totally uncharted territory—emotionally and physically.
My stomach churns with anxiety I haven’t felt since that first evening. My mask is firmly in position; my diamondencrusted collar feels heavy at my throat. The short, sheer ebony dress feels like too much compared to the casual nearly nakedness of some of the women I’ve seen in here, but I teamed it with stockings and suspenders that I know Sean loves.
‘Good evening, Princess.’ Dominic’s greeting is polite but lacks his usual mischief. He’s guarded. Wary. Did Sean tell him about the other night?
If only I had someone to talk to about things.
Poor Kat doesn’t know what to do with me brooding about the castle, which is why I locked myself up painting for the past two days. Painting and pondering my life as I know it.
‘How is he?’ I ask tentatively, slipping out of my coat.
Dominic sighs. ‘As you might imagine.’ He takes my coat and hands it to the receptionist. ‘Sean is… complicated.’
‘The entire situation is complicated.’
Dominic walks me through the darkly lit corridors. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’ He keeps walking past the main lounge. ‘I predicted this would happen, you know.’
‘That a princess would stumble into the club?’
‘That he would eventually find a sub he’d want more from.’
My stomach flips, hope spiking in my sternum.
‘It’s just unfortunate that you’re not in a position to provide more. Or perhaps I should say, he’s not in a position to ask you to.’
‘My family has certain expectations for my future.’ I slow my walk to draw this conversation out. I have no idea where Dominic is taking me, but it’s not to the main lounge. My heels click against the polished floors. Members nod as I pass. I barely register them.
‘But if the tabloids are anything to go on, you live to rebel against those expectations. What’s another one?’
