Page 37 of His Beloved Princess
“I’m a businessman, Denise, not a charity,” I groaned, tired of all of this bullshit. Every day, someone needed help, a job, money, or health care, and somehow, I constantly ended up on the wrong side of the equation. They always asked me for it.
I’m not fucking Santa Claus!
The sound of breaking glass interrupted Denise’s response, and I turned in the direction of the noise. The girl from earlier was already on her knees, taking pieces of a smashed bottle with her bare hands.
“And she is also the clever one,” I deadpanned, waving at my bodyguard to take her away. Some severe cutting was precisely what we didn’t need.
“What happened here?” I heard Andreas’ voice a few seconds before he sat beside me, glancing at the shaking girl. She could be around twenty, but she looked younger. Her black shoulder-length hair framed her face, and her big brown eyes were filled with fear. She was totally out of place.
“Since when are we hiring kids?” I inquired in a raised voice when Denise returned with a new bottle and handed it to another waitress. The girl shot me a scared glance, drifting her gaze quickly to her hands when Andreas snickered.
“I told you, Sebastian. She needs money. Her brother is sick,” my motherly manager responded, leaning against the bar. We had a very inappropriate view of her almost naked breasts.
“I’ll pay for the b-bottle, Mr. Thorn,” the girl said out of the blue, and my brows shot up. I almost smiled. My anger slowly dissipated because I was distracted by this kind of funny situation.
“Really?” Andreas chuckled, raising his glass. “It’s a five-thousand-dollar bottle. I didn’t know your salary was so good, honey.”
“W-What?” she stammered; her eyes were as big as saucers. The expression on her face was a mix of horror and fear. She was probably calculating how long she had to work here to pay for an overpriced bourbon.
“Go somewhere, do something,” I commanded, and Denise quickly took the girl away. I shook my head, and Andreas suppressed a laugh. But she didn’t forget to raise her index finger at me and mouth the word “asshole.”
“So, what’s the emergency?” Andreas asked when we were finally alone. “I came here straight from the airport. You sounded like a lunatic.”
I didn’t need to think hard about telling him everything. Yet maybe it was a mistake because I felt as the rage returned to my body, eating my soul. A picture of Peter hungrily staring at Electra in my office was imprinted into my brain, and with every gulp of alcohol, the hatred against him intensified.
I couldn’t get drunk because I would kill him. That much I knew. The combination of whiskey, jealousy, and possessiveness was perilous. Still, the taste of alcohol burning my tongue and my throat, at least for a moment, removed that hideous image from my mind.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” Andreas inquired, clinking his glass with mine and loosening his tie. He was tired; dark circles appeared under his eyes, but he would never leave me like this alone.
“I’m sure I’m overreacting,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. “I just can’t help myself. Have you heard what she told me?”
“Yes.” He nodded, cautiously watching me. “There is no one to blame here. You can either break up with her because of absolute stupidity or move on.”
“She slept with Peter!” I groaned, and he shrugged.
“Before she met you,” he answered nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, when in reality, if his wife had ever had sex with one of his brothers, he would have murdered us all.
“That’s not the point!” I yelled, feeling conflicted. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say.
“I know,” he stated calmly, pouring me another large amount of magical liquid. “Your offended ego is the point.”
“What?” I barked, slamming my palm against the glass surface of the bar. He was pissing me off with his attitude.
“Just because she said that she liked it with Peter doesn’t mean that you’re not good at all,” he clarified, chuckling when I shot him a murderous look. I clenched my jaw so hard that the bones almost cracked. Again, I was furious. “You know that she adores you. Why are you torturing yourself like this?”
“What if he raped her?” I grumbled, fisting my palms.
“She denied it,” he objected, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Maybe she was trying to save his ass, stopping me from...” I didn’t finish, I couldn’t.
“You’re paranoid,” he sighed, fishing his phone out of his pants pocket and checking it. “But you can ask Pete because he just came.”
“Great,” I growled, turning towards the entrance and waiting for my brother to join us.
I sent my men for him because I wasn’t prepared to wait until the morning. I had to know his answer and see his face when I surprised him with the question. My brain was slightly dizzy from all the alcohol I had already drunk, yet I was sure about one thing. If his version didn’t match Electra’s, he was in a deep shit.
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