Thorne Princess(101)

I sighed. “How can I help you, Anna?”

“Well, as you know, we have unfinished business to attend to.”

“Everything’s quite finished,” I supplied. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

How’d she get the address? Stupid question. She worked for a tabloid. Most of her paparazzi colleagues could point her in the right direction with their eyes closed.

“I need a scoop.”

“You need a career change,” I countered. “As I said before, I’m not giving you jack shit on my client.”

She smoothed my shirt, grinning up at me.

“Oh, come on, big guy. I have an even better offer on the table. My boss just green-lit it. Aren’t you at least a bit curious to hear what we’re willing to offer for an exclusive story?”

“Ransom?” I heard a voice from my right. Hallie.

She stepped out of the car, waving the driver goodbye. She must’ve figured Anna posed no danger. That’s where she was wrong.

Anna straightened her back, letting loose a smile.

“Oh, hi, Hallie Thorne. You don’t know me, but I—”

“I know you.” Hallie stopped in front of both of us, and I didn’t like it, how Anna and I looked like a unit together, opposite her. “You wrote a scathing piece about me after my nip slip. Your picture’s right next to your column.”

It was the first time I hurt for someone else, and it was a massive pain in the neck. The empathy sliced through me like a knife. It was almost hard to breathe.

“Great memory!” Anna cooed. “Maybe you weren’t as drugged up as I thought you were.”

“Please don’t let the truth about me mess up with your narrative.” Hallie smiled coldly. “To you, I’ll always be a fuck-up. Now, what are you doing at my house?”

“Ransom and I are old friends.”

“Is that so?” Hallie’s eyes darted to me in question. I gave a curt nod.

“Ransom, would you like to take our conversation somewhere private?” Anna ignored Hallie’s presence, smiling at me.

“You can say whatever you have to say right here.”

“You sure about that?” Anna’s eyes warned me that I wasn’t going to like the next part.

I did not negotiate with terrorists.

“Positive.”

“Well, I was just wondering when we’re going to hook up…” She gave a meaningful beat, studying Hallie with zeal. “Again.”

Hallie froze in her spot. Her face betrayed nothing. But I saw it. The disappointment. It hadn’t appeared when I’d told her I’d killed an innocent child. But it was there now, written all over her face.

Both were mistakes on my end. But only one was in my control.

“Now would seem like a very good time for you two to talk.” Hallie recovered quickly, bumping past my shoulder on her way to her door. “Seeing as I have some things to do.”

The door slammed behind her before I could explain.

“You idiot.” I turned to Anna, rage bubbling in my bloodstream. “What did you do that for?”

“It was the truth, wasn’t it?” Anna asked defiantly.

“A very selective truth,” I spat out. “You knew damn well my chances of ever touching you again with a ten-foot pole were zero on a good day, and most of my days are bad.”

“Still.” Anna opened the door to her Jaguar, slipping inside. “It was worth it. Because now I know without a doubt you’re porking the client, and that’s one hell of a juicy headline. Thanks, pal.”





I pushed the door open, expecting carnage. At the very least, a heavy piece of furniture thrown in my direction.

Instead, I found a human-sized lump on the couch, lying in front of a turned-off TV. She didn’t move until I closed the door, making myself known.

She sat upright, wiping her face on her sleeve.

“I can explain,” I said, not because that’s what men usually said, but because I really, honestly could. There was a good explanation to all of this.

Hallie stood up, making her way upstairs. I followed her, jarred by her lack of response. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.

“Is it weird that I don’t want you to?” she finally said. “I kind of feel like this is a golden opportunity to cut the cord. It should’ve happened long ago. In fact, I can’t believe we’ve made it this far.”

Was she talking about my post as her bodyguard or about fucking each other’s brains out? Either way, I didn’t like the implication. I wasn’t done with her. Not by a long mile.

She pushed the door to her room open, stepping into her walk-in closet. There, she grabbed out a couple large suitcases, flung them open, and began throwing clothes into them.

“Are you leaving?” I placed an elbow on her wall.

“Eventually.” She tossed a few gowns into the open jaws of her suitcase. “Once I figure out where I’m going.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No need.” She flung more shirts into a suitcase, still not looking at me. “I’m sure my parents won’t mind you quitting the job at this point. Or, if you still want Dad’s connections, just stay here and we’ll pretend you’re still protecting me. It’d throw the Russians off my scent, anyway.”