Page 63 of His Beloved Princess
“You clearly don’t know Bastian as well as you think,” he emphasized, opening the door for me and waving at Daniel, the head of Bastian’s security. “He would be haunting my sorry ass my entire life, and then when I join him in the afterlife, he would make me regret I didn’t kill someone while in here to get to hell without meeting his existence ever again.”
I covered my mouth with my palm, suppressing a small giggle. Yes, it was exactly what Mr. Sebastian Thorn would do if his commands weren’t followed.
“So, because I actually believe in hell and my brother is capable of replacing Satan anytime, I’d rather do everything I can to make sure you’re at your best, even at your worst.”
“Thank you,” I muttered, squeezing his hand gently, earning a soft smile from him.
“Don’t thank me; I’m shit scared of him.” He nodded in the direction of the bed, and I had to press my lips together to stop the sobs that gathered in my throat again. With one last look at Bastian, I turned around and followed the bodyguard out of the hospital and into the car.
The ride was quick and silent. Daniel was even more grumpy than usual, and I wasn’t in the mood to try and make conversation. I just wanted to hide in my bedroom, dressed in Bastian’s oversized T-shirt, and enjoy the smell of him while I cried myself to a dreamless sleep.
Everything in the apartment was the same as when I left it. My silver high-heeled shoes were next to the couch, a cute baby pink collar with a heart-shaped buckle was lying on the chest of drawers, ready to be placed around my neck, and my red diary rested on the coffee table. The only thing missing was Bastian’s contract with Rose, which I’d left next to the notebook.
A heavy sigh broke free from my throat when I remembered the reason for my escape. Arguing over the piece of paper I didn’t understand felt so insignificant and meaningless. My heart constricted in my chest as I sauntered to the sofa, and my eyes landed on a word written over two pages of my diary.
LIAR!
I burst into tears, falling to my knees next to the armchair, hiding my face behind my palms. The pain was excruciating, swallowing every piece of perseverance that I was capable of, disarming me, and leaving me empty.
All my strength was drained from my body. There was no power in me to continue with anything in my life. I was the reason for Bastian’s condition. And if he died, I would never forgive myself for letting my insecurities and lack of trust in our love kill him.
Five minutes passed, or maybe it was five hours—I didn’t know. My crying attack slowly dissipated, but the heaviness in my heart stayed. There was nothing in this world that could help me; nothing, only Bastian’s smile and loving touch.
Taking a few shallow breaths, I dragged myself onto the couch, burying my head in the pillow. A helpless scream full of pain flew out of my mouth, then another and another until I almost screeched my lungs out. My fists hit the sofa hard, and my nails dug into the expensive upholstery with the intention of tearing the fabric out. The last shriek, which broke free from my throat, left me completely breathless. I turned on my back, gasping for air. My entire body trembled, and my vision was blurred.
“Feeling better?”
I winced and abruptly sat up, glaring in shock at the wide male silhouette. Wiping my eyes and focusing on the person in front of me, I recognized DerekSimons, dressed in a black three-piece tailored suit, looking at me with amusement evident on his scarred face.
“If I remember correctly, there is whiskey, vodka, and some pot in Bastian’s office. Should I bring it?”
He sat opposite me, leaning back and watching me as my cheeks flushed red.
“How much did you see?” I asked, adjusting my blouse in its place and trying to comb my hair with my fingers. I looked like a complete mess.
“All of it,” he replied casually, checking his phone. “Are you better, or do you need a moment to do some breathing exercises?”
“Stop mocking me!” I spat, squeezing my thigh with my hand. I wasn’t in the right state of mind to fight with his cocky attitude.
“I would never do that.” He narrowed his light brown eyes at me, his tone tight. “I’m simply asking if you need another moment for yourself or if you can finally start acting like Bastian’s girlfriend.”
“It’s none of your business how I act,” I retorted, gulping down a pile of not-very-polite words.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Electra. It is my business if my best friend’s interests are at stake,” he rumbled, ignoring his phone, which didn’t stop buzzing. “You’re not the only one suffering,” he said in a softer tone, fisting his palm like it took all the strength in him not to yell at me. “But you can’t hide behind the hospital walls or here and pretend you’re nobody. You must do what is expected of you.”
“Expected from me?” I echoed, confused.
“You are an official partner of one of the most powerful men in the world,” he explained casually, and the breath hitched in my throat.
Of course, I knew who Bastian was when I decided to start a relationship with him. For sure, I hoped and dreamed that one day he would marry me somewhere on a sunny beach, with only our family and friends witnessing the most important day in our lives. But I didn’t think about the other side of the coin, and Derek was determined to remind me of my duties as Bastian Thorn’s woman.
“Right now, he can’t represent himself, so it’s up to you to take that position and ensure everything is as it should be.” He stood and walked to the cabinet with the alcohol, pouring two glasses of whiskey. I watched his every move, yet my brain was shutting down.
He handed me one glass with a magical liquid, but I hesitated to take it. I was afraid I might drink the entire bottle once I was alone just to get rid of that overwhelming feeling of guilt that had been living permanently in my chest since the accident.
“I have no idea what that means,” I whispered, staring at his outstretched left hand. A massive golden watch showed exactly 6:15 p.m.
“It means you should return to reality, sweetheart,” he muttered sadly, sitting beside me. The couch creaked under his weight. “Life isn’t a romantic book where you meet your soulmate, fall in love, overcome some obstacles, and live happily ever after.”
