Page 20 of Vicious Prince (Violent Kingdom)

Daddy clears his throat. “Looks like Jennifer did a fabulous job, getting everything ready for the event.”

"Oh, we're doing small talk now, are we?" I reply. “Are we going to pretend that Joshua didn’t hear that whole conversation in your office this morning? Because I didn’t get that memo. I should check my emails before we go out there.”

"Avery, for God's sake," my father says. "Come on, now. I had no way of knowing what my brother was going to say to you earlier. Don’t punish Joshua for Enzo’s big mouth.”

"Oh my God. It's not even about that," I fire back. "You betrayed me. You lied to me, and you didn't even tell me. What kind of father does that to a sixteen-year-old girl? What kind of man goes along with such a thing?”

Joshua’s eyebrows rise slightly, and he puts his palms up in a supplicating gesture. “I’m going to leave you two to finish getting ready. Avery, you look lovely. I’ve scheduled all day tomorrow so we can meet up and talk about everything that’s on your mind. I’m not the villain, okay?”

I stare at him blankly, until my father steps toward me and wraps one arm around my shoulders in a suffocating hug that screams:behave.

“I’m busy tomorrow,” I reply. “What a shame.”

“Oh, that doctor’s appointment? Something about an IUD? I had my secretary talk to your assistant. It’s been rescheduled for next week.”

And then the smug motherfucker gives us both the most dazzling grin, complete with a wave, and closes the door behind him.

It's happening again. My dress, which was a little loose before, is suddenly all too tight. It constricts me, pressing up against my ribs, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

“What the FUCK?” I seethe. I turn on my father. “I hate him,” I spit, gesturing wildly at the closed door. “I HATE him!”

I don’t even see the open palm coming at me. My face feels the sting as my father slaps me across the face hard enough that I make a choking sound in my throat. “Ow.”

“I’m sorry,” Daddy says, straightening my hair as I hold my smarting cheek. “I didn’t know what else to do to snap you out of this state you’re in.”

I blink, once, twice, and then without thinking, I hit him back. Right across his freshly-shaved cheek. It probably hurts me more than him, my palm buzzing angrily as I watch a red mark rise on his cheek.

“Feel better?” he murmurs.

I shrug, feeling embarrassed. “A little.”

“Your self-defense is getting sloppy,” Daddy remarks. “You never used to hit like a girl.”

“I’m usually hitting inanimate objects, not my father,” I mutter.

“If you say so.”

"You need to leave," I say to my father. “You need to get out of my face now, because if you don't, I am going to lose my fucking mind."

My father sets his teeth inside his jaw so hard, I can see the vein in his forehead throb.

"Fine," Daddy says. "I'll see you out there, I suppose."

"I suppose you will," I reply sharply.

“And Avery,” Daddy adds, always needing the last word. “Don’t get any ideas. Don’t try to run off. Just do as you’re told, for once in your life.”

And he slams the door.

I look back to the mirror, breathing deeply, letting the calm wash back over me. I've already cried enough today to last me the rest of my life. After I left the cemetery, with black eyeliner all over my face, I went straight home, sat on the floor of my shower, and cried. It was probably a good thing that it happened the way it did. I can't imagine Will’s face if the engagement had been announced at the party. In fact, I'm pretty sure he would have killed Joshua Grayson with his bare hands if he could. Thank goodness for small miracles, I guess.

Then again, maybe it would have been a good thing if Will had spared me from having to marry such a horrible man. I’m deep in an elaborate daydream about Will and Joshua, fighting to the death for me, when Nathan enters the room without knocking. He whistles as he takes me in. "You look good," he says.

"I should hope so," I reply. "After all, I'm the entertainment for the night."

"Poor little rich girl," Nathan says, stroking my hair, but I know he actually feels sorry for me.

I look at him pointedly. "What aren't you telling me?"

---