Page 155 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

After brushing my teeth, I walk into the living room.

Riley sits on the couch, biting her nail. “Oh my god, Margo! First, amazing room. Second, this is an emergency—”

“Slow down,” I mumble.

“Where’s your phone?”

It was in the clutch. Where said clutch ended up, I don’t know. “I’d have to look around.”

She huffs, then whirls on Caleb. “I need to take her.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You can keep the room, Ri. I’ve got an errand to run, anyway.” He comes over and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll check out, so don’t worry about it. Eli can give you a ride.”

“Okay.”

He grabs his bag and reappears fully dressed. Men. I need at least a half hour to get my act together. He leaves, and Riley follows me into the bedroom.

She immediately starts laughing. “Jesus.”

“What?”

“Smells like you had a lot of sex.”

I roll my eyes. “Gross. But… true.”

I collect my stuff, throwing it in my bag while Riley watches. I save the dress for last, smoothing it as I fold it over my arm. My fingers touch something that crinkles, and I suddenly remember the paper Claire had given me. I never even thought to mention it to Riley.

I pull it out and slip it into my leggings pocket, vowing to read it later.

Finally, I place the dress in my bag and zip it shut.

“Okay, I think that’s everything.”

“Except your phone.” She’s still gnawing at her finger.

“Did you try to reach me last night? Did something happen with you and Eli?”

“What? No. No, he’s waiting for us in the lobby.”

I shrug. “It was in the clutch with my ID. Maybe in the living room?”

We scour the place, and I finally find it under the dining table. How it got there, I’ll never know. I’m about to get my phone, but Riley lays her hand on top of mine.

“Stop,” she blurts out.

I stare at her. “You’re acting weird.”

She shifts. “Remember that picture that got emailed around?”

Oh no.

“Um… there was a video.”

Oh no.

I don’t tell her I know there’s a video. That would open up a whole different can of worms—particularly because, while she knew I got a strange text when I first started, I haven’t told her about any of the following texts.

“It’s bad,” Riley whispers. “It’ll be okay, though. I just… your phone might be blowing up, and I don’t want you to freak out. In fact, you should probably just turn it off.”

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