Page 37 of Wicked Prince

"That obvious?"

He just smiles, and I sigh.

"Yeah, he was. And I know that shouldn't matter, but I guess it does."

"Of course it does," Anthony scoffs. "You're not a robot."

"It's dumb though, isn't it?" I ask, pulling my feet up onto the bed. "Lorenzo isn't the kind of guy who's into relationships."

"Maybe not in the past," he agrees. "But like you said, things change. People change. Even him."

I'm not so sure, but the idea is more appealing than I want it to be. "I guess it's a moot point anyway. It's not like I can afford to go out on my own right now. Dad owned everything, even our house, and if I don't plan things well enough, he'll just bring me right back."

"That is a valid concern," says Anthony. "But you can always leave. And no offense, but it doesn't really seem like you have much to go back to, so why not make the most of it while you're here?"

"I don't belong in this world," I protest.

"Says who? Your dad?" he challenges. "You half-sister and her harpies? You don't seem like the type of girl to let other people tell you who you are or where you belong."

I take a moment to consider that. "You know, you're pretty good at the whole pep talk thing."

He grins. "What can I say? I'm a man of many skills."

"I guess I could just go to dinner and feel things out," I venture. "I'm pretty sure not going would ignite World War III, anyway."

"You're probably right about that," he says. "And if you need any help picking out what to wear, that just so happens to be one of my skills."

"I'll definitely take you up on that," I say. "I could care less about meeting Kayleigh's boyfriend or whatever, but I don't need to give Dad another reason to have a temper tantrum."

"Don't worry," Anthony says with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "By the time I'm finished, you're going to look like the perfect Mafia princess."

I have no doubt about that. I'm just not sure that the transformation I want to make, but what the hell? When in Rome…

Which just might be where I have to run away to if this dinner goes as badly as it could.

ChapterFifteen

AMELIA

Ihaven't even had the chance to text or call Dad back to tell him I changed my mind about going when he texts me the name of a restaurant and an address. A few seconds later, he adds,Change of plans. A car will pick you up at seven.

It takes me a few minutes to figure out how to respond to that, if at all. It figures he would just ignore my earlier outburst and think he can make my decisions for me. But as infuriated as I am, it doesn't change my decision.

Mostly because Anthony spent over an hour helping me figure out what to wear. He even insisted on doing my makeup. If it weren't for that, I really would be tempted to tell Dad he can send his driver to the Ozarks for all I care.

Unless it’s Francis, I guess.

Anthony had to go to some fraternity thing, so I resist the urge to text him about this latest development and roll my eyes so hard at Dad's message that I get a migraine instead.

I study the clothes laid out for me on the bed, still not sure about what he picked out. Eventually, I put on the sleek pink dress that's tighter than what I'd usually wear. I decide to keep my hair down since Anthony complained when I tried to put it up, and I wear pantyhose because I don't want Dad to have a coronary event at the table or anything.

Once I slip into my black heels and grab my clutch, I take a second to check my appearance in the mirror.

I look like a reality TV star wannabe.Mob Wives of New York.

Oh, well. If Anthony really thinks this is it...

It's not like I have time to pick out something else, anyway. I glance at my phone and realize it's already a few minutes after seven, so I figure I should get out there to meet the car I never asked to pick me up.

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