Page 56 of His Prince

“Someone is taking money from you, from one of the massage parlors. Their numbers have been off over the last several months. They went from giving about 150 massages a day on average to 130. So obviously someone is taking a cut.”

He points to the bright pink column, and I stare at it.

“You got that from this piece of shit?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Yeah.”

I blink back at the computer and then move to another tab, letting Angel take a look, his soft body pressed far too close to me, the scent of flowers and sun on his skin. I force myself to breathe through my mouth.

“It isn’t happening at the weed dispensaries…but you may want to take a look at the laundromats. Something doesn’t look right there either. Their numbers have been fluctuating a lot more than last year.”

I blink at the screen and huff. Why the hell did he make this so bright?

“I can take a better look at it if you’d like or find someone trustworthy who can.”

I stare at him, his lips so fucking close to mine, and I lean back to give myself some space, a way to inhale anything but him.

“Perhaps.”

That word hangs between us and then Angel slides away from me once more, pressing the ice pack against the back of my head. The sting of it, the ice-cold sensation moves through my skull, down my neck and into my chest, hardening me once more.

I have to remember not to trust anyone. Especially my spouse. Never trust those.

Fool me once…

But Angel seems different. Heisdifferent.

My mind moves to a past that I can never escape, one that has etched itself on my heart in blood and thorns.

I thought Katarina was different too and look how that turned out.

“Please, my love…”

I suddenly can’t breathe. With trembling legs, I push away from Angel and stride out of the office, the scent of blood washing over me, the darkness starting to descend.

I need space. I need to fucking breathe alone. In the shadows.

And I can’t do that when his light shines so brightly.

13

ANGEL

Mikhail isn’t in our room that night. After we spoke about his accounts in his office, something changed in him. He stormed off, and I haven’t seen him since. But I didn’t look for him that hard, not really.

I may have inquired about where he went, but no one knew.

Or if they did, no one told me.

Not even my cookies could drag it out of Ivan. He was still pouting about my threat earlier to keep his beloved doodles from him.

So here I am, just lying beneath the sheets, trying to remember that I don’t like Mikhail anyway, that he’s been nothing but cruel to me.

But we had an arrangement. A sex-arrangement.

And he’s breaking that already.

But why am I surprised? He’s broken everything else. I’m inshambles.