Page 78 of Corrupt Princess

The space is spotless, and my eyes land on the phone sitting on her desk in seconds.

Bingo.

Pulling up Brianna’s number, I key it in and press the handset to my ear.

It rings a couple of times, just like before, but unlike all those times, the line crackles, the ringing stops, and her sultry voice fills the line.

“Hello?” I can only assume that she knows it’s someone at Knight’s Ridge calling her, but I doubt she’s suspicious that it’s me.

“I hope you know that your voice alone gets me hard.”

“Fuck’s sake,” she hisses. “Didn’t ignoring your calls tell you anything? I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Siren,” I growl.

“I mean it, Nico. Nothing has changed.”

I startle as the irritating dial tone rings in my ear.

She fucking hung up on me.

I sit there for a few seconds feeling utterly defeated. But it doesn’t last all that long.

She might think she can keep me away, but she has to know that I’m better at finding her than she is hiding from me.

Pulling up our tracking app, I wait for it to load.

I’m expecting to find her sitting in Toby’s flat. That’s easy enough to get into, I have access after all, but there’s a twisted part of me that wants something a little more challenging than that.

A smirk curls up at my lips when her and Jodie’s phones finally load, showing me that they’re in a shopping centre in east London.

Yeah, that’s a little more like it.

My mouth waters as images of stalking around the shops, watching her being relaxed with her best friend fill my mind. Although not as much as all the ways I could announce my presence to her.

I can almost hear the shriek of shock that will pass her lips before I slam my hand over them, forcing her into a darkened corner.

“I should warn her that she’s got a creepy arse stalker,” a soft voice says from behind me, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

One second my arse is in the chair and the next, I’m reaching for the switchblade in my pocket and holding it out ready to hurt the prick who thought it was a good idea to sneak up on me.

But when my vision clears, I discover hurting the intruder would be a really bad idea.

“Rhea? The fuck are you doing?” I ask, flicking my blade closed and pocketing it once more.

“Could be asking the same of you, cuz,” she teases, folding her arms across her chest. Her shirt is unbuttoned so low I get way too much cleavage than my fourteen-year-old cousin should ever be showing off.

“You forget how to dress correctly or something? You’re fourteen, they need to be away where no motherfucker can see them,” I state, nodding toward her breasts. When the fuck did she even grow them? I’m sure she was an eight-year-old running around in frilly dresses only a week ago.

“Fifteen, actually.”

My mouth opens to say something, but she beats me to it.

“It was last week. Thanks for remembering, dickhead.”

My eyes widen, but I don’t really have a comeback for missing her birthday.

“Shit, I—”

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