Page 32 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

I drop my hands and glare at her. This isn’t going how I thought it would. No, actually, it is going how I thought it would. I’d just hoped for something different.

“He didn’t seduce me,” I argue, although he totally did. He laid out a sticky web, and like an idiot, I fell right into it. “And anyway, it didn’t work, because he and I are done. And you know what? I think this conversation is done, too.”

She’s prying and invading, and why didn’t I see this side of her before?

I move toward the door.

“He charmed the pants off of me and Savannah,” she says quietly.

I stop in my tracks.

“You knew that, right? Him sleeping with her, then dating me? Well, if you can even call it dating—”

I spin around. “I don’t want to hear about how you fucked Caleb! God, Amelie. Really?”

She has tears in her eyes.

And I’m so over it.

“Why do you think he did it? Because he knew you’d come back. And you’re letting him steamroll you, Margo! Don’t be an idiot.”

I laugh. I’ve been an idiot. It’s true. I’m still making mistakes—such as letting Amelie stomp all over me. Right. Now.

“I’m done.” I walk away again, fully fed up with Amelie Page.

In the back of my mind, I acknowledge that we all grew up differently. I bounced around homes. She bounced around countries.

“Ask yourself this, Margo,” she calls. “How did Caleb find you in the woods?”

I know how he found me. Unknown sent me the proof—a picture of Ian dragging me across the field.

This is the only time I help you.

I shiver, but I don’t turn back around. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to look into Unknown—and so many other things. The number is blocked. There’s only so much I can do without getting more people involved.

She sighs. “Savannah sent him the text.”

I freeze, my hand on the knob.

“The picture. I know you’ve probably seen it. Did he tell you it was her?”

No. Savannah is Unknown?

Savannah—

“We’re not doing this,” I say through gritted teeth. I push through the door, into the courtyard. I struggle to take deep breaths as the world crashes around me.

Pull yourself together, Margo.

I can’t do this. I can’t—

“Margo?”

I blink up at Robert. Gravel bites into my knees.

“Up you go,” he says, his arms hooking under my armpits. He lifts me to my feet and guides me to a bench. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think I just got overwhelmed,” I murmur. I close my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

---