Page 25 of Vicious Prince (Violent Kingdom)

He must see my clear lack of enthusiasm, because his grin turns to an amused smirk, as he turns his attention back to my father and whatever they were talking about. I try to ignore the anger that wells up inside my chest as Nathan tugs my wrist gently.

I follow, my thoughts messy, my head pounding. We cross the ballroom, empty now save for a few stragglers, and Nathan scans his access card for the private elevator in the corridor.

Five minutes later, we’re walking in to a sub-penthouse suite on the floor below where the party is being held. Relief floods my limbs immediately at the prospect of being alone and unencumbered for at least a few moments. I enter the room, flop down on the bed, and contemplate whether it’s worth removing my shoes, only to have to put them back on again soon. I decide to leave them on, reclining against cool, fluffy pillows and stiff cotton sheets, the ache in my head still a constant throb. I close my eyes, wishing I could end the night here, wishing I didn’t have to go back out there and be with him.

Nathan makes a tutting sound, turning all of the lights on in the room. It’s suddenly unbearably bright, and I shield my eyes with my hand in protest. “Don’t pike out on me yet, Aves,” Nathan says, producing a bottle of whiskey from nowhere, pouring liquid into two ice-filled tumblers. “Here, get some of this into you.”

I accept one of the glasses gratefully, suddenly having a flashback to when I was in Daddy’s office earlier. Christ, no wonder I feel like shit. I’ve been drinking on and off since midday - and that doesn’t even include the pot I smoked with Nathan before I went to break up with Will.

Will. I wonder where he is now. The way things ended was beyond awful. I need to call him later, try to smooth things over, if that’s even possible. I have no idea if he’ll ever want to speak to me again.

I take one sniff of the straight whiskey Nathan’s handed me, and my stomach roils. Oh, shit. The three glasses of champagne I pounded have all hit me at once, and I blink, suddenly dizzy and nauseous.

“You look green,” Nathan says.

Bile rushes up my throat and I barely make it to the bathroom in time to throw up in the sink.Eughhhhh. Salt water bites at the corners of my eyes as I choke on my own vomit, my head buzzing angrily.

Two more heaves and my stomach settles. I grimace, turning the cold water on full, letting it wash away the entirely liquid diet I’ve consumed today. I wipe my mouth with a towel, searching for one of those tiny tubes of complimentary toothpaste that every bathroom in the Palatial should have.Bingo.I find the tube on a shelf beside the basin and rip the cap off, squeezing toothpaste directly into my mouth and swishing it around. Better. I’m minty fresh again, and nobody will ever know that I just puked my guts up in a moment where I should be poised and regal.

Except I look like garbage. I study myself in the mirror. I need to reapply my foundation, get some eyedrops for my bloodshot eyes, and fix the smudged eyeliner under my left eye. I have nothing on me — not a purse, not a phone. “Hey, Nathan?” I call into the room.

He appears in the bathroom doorway, looking worried. “I told you to eat something,” he admonishes, bringing his hand up to my cheek and using his thumb to wipe under my eye. “You want me to grab you something?”

I teeter on my heels, no longer nauseous, but still drunk. “Yes please,” I say sweetly. “And hey, Nath, can you see if you can find Jennifer? She has all of my makeup in her purse.”

Nathan nods, disappearing. I hear the soft click of the door closing, and turn off all of the lights, making a beeline for the bed. I’ll take a micro nap while Nathan’s gone. I close my eyes, and I’m unconscious before my head even hits the pillow.

I don’t know how long I sleep — it could be three seconds or three hours — but I wake suddenly, uneasily, a loud noise puncturing my dreamless void. I sit up with a start, my head reeling as I search in the dark for the switch on the lamp next to the bed. For a moment I don’t even remember where I am.

Hotel room. Vomit. Nathan going to get me food.

Right.

It takes me a moment to piece together what the noise was that woke me. The hotel room door, slamming shut. They normally have a soft closing mechanism, so whoever slammed it had to use a fair amount of force. Suddenly, my inebriation lifts, and I’m on high alert.

Without warning, a hand jerks out, pulling me upright. I squeal, but a hand is immediately placed over my mouth.

"Shh. Be quiet," a male voice murmurs.

The lamp beside me snaps on and I get a good look at the person who's just scared the living shit out of me.

“Will?” I say in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Will looks disheveled. His hair is messy, his dress shirt is wrinkled. And he smells of booze.Pot, meet kettle.

"I'm here to save you," Will says.Oh, shit.

"Oh my God,” I whisper. “Are you for real? Will, we spoke about this."

"Yeah. I know," he says, as I try to gauge how drunk he is. "We've been speaking about this for eight years."

"We can still see each other," I say. “But things will have to be different now."

"Yeah. I got the memo about that,” he snaps. “Thanks. You know what they're doing to you isn't fair. It's probably even illegal."

I throw my hands up in frustration. "There's nothing I can do about it now." I point at the engagement ring on my left finger to illustrate my point.

Will grabs both of my hands and squeezes a little too hard. It's almost painful. "Yes, thereissomething you can do about it," he hisses. "Something we can both do about it. My father’s jet is fueled up and ready to go wherever you want, Avery. We can go away from all this. It's not like any law enforcement in the world would ever look at this situation and think that you need to be transported back to your fucked up family."

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