Page 43 of Broken Princess

"Then shut your mouth," I mutter, taking a sip out of the flask that technically isn't allowed on campus, but I have never given a shit about the rules and have no intention of starting now. "I don't want to talk about Amelia."

"Fine. Sorry," he says quickly. "But it's clear you're not okay, whatever is going on." He pauses in contemplation for a long moment. "What happened when you left, anyway? She just disappeared, then you did, and now she's back and you're all screwed up."

"What part of I don't want to talk about it do you not understand?" I snap.

"Okay. Sheesh. Fine, Amelia is off limits," he grumbles. "Guess I'll just pretend like nothing is going on whatsoever, even though it clearly fucking is."

"Good," I say, ignoring his sarcasm as I push myself up from the table. "I'm leaving."

"What? Where?" he asks. "It's barely even five."

"Family dinner," I answer.

He blinks. "Since when do you go to those?"

It's a fair question. I previously went over to the Carillos more often than I went to see my own family, not only because it was a matter of keeping relatively good relations between the families, but because I wanted any excuse I could get to see Amelia or at least be around her.

Over the past couple of weeks, that obviously changed. Ever since the day she stuck a knife in my chest and gutted me with it.

No matter how much time has passed, it still doesn’t feel real. None of it.

Definitely not the fact that she’s having Stefan's baby.

It’s the fact that she had been lying to me the entire time, and as ridiculous as it was,thatwas the part that got to me.

I’m territorial to the point of insanity and I know the next time I set eyes on Stefan off campus, I’m going to kill him, but that alone wouldn't have been enough. Amelia is a vice—an addiction—and every attempt I have ever made to purge her from my system has only fanned the flames of the obsession.

I’m sick. That, I've always known, but I never realized it went this deep. I never realized I could want someone more than I wanted... anything. Up to and including the self-respect that had pretty much been my birthright.

"Lorenzo?" Jeff's voice floats back to me, pulling me out of my dark thoughts. "You still with me?"

I shrug. "Just haven't been in a while is all."

He studies me for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. Go to your family dinner. But we're going to talk about this later."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, waving him off as I head for the door. "We'll talk later."

I find myself looking for Stefan as I step out of the lounge on campus. He's smart enough that he's made himself scarce, and since he's not officially a student, it's not like he has to attend class. I'm pretty sure he's not even staying in guest housing anymore. Not that I've been casing the area, waiting for an excuse to jump him or anything.

I make my way to the family mansion, not surprised when there's no sign of my brothers' cars. Whenever I'm here, they tend to mysteriously vanish. My parents don't seem to mind. They're used to it by now, and if anything, they've come to prefer the peace and quiet. It's rare we can be in the same room without it turning into a fight, anyway.

As I walk into the house, I realize Mom must have hired a new decorator, because I barely recognize the sitting room. The last time I was here, it had been done in a traditional style with deep reds and golds. Now, it's lighter and brighter, almost like a beach house. It doesn't quite fit with my memories of my family.

I head to the kitchen, unsurprised when I find Mom cooking dinner. She always cooks when she can, even though we have a staff and a chef on call to take care of all that crap.

"Lorenzo," she calls brightly, wiping flour off her apron as she turns to greet me. She takes my face in her hand and plants a kiss on both cheeks. "Sweetheart, it's so good to see you. I didn't know you were coming."

"Dad didn't tell you?" I ask. "He clearly told Geo and Robbie since they cleared out."

She gives me a look and turns back to her arancini. "That's not true. You know Geo has his own courses and Robbie's got a girlfriend now, so we hardly see him as it is."

I snort. "A girlfriend? Yeah, right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks, giving me a sharp look.

"Robbie doesn't do girlfriends," I say. "He does one-night stands and then moves on."

She tsks. "You make it sound so sordid."

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