Secret Heir (Dynasty #1)(95)

“I get it, though. Raph—well, he’s the personification of the element that he lords over. Like the sun itself. When his attention is on you, it’s like having the sun beaming down on you, but when it’s gone … well, he can cast quite a shadow."

Layla pauses then for effect.

“But who knows, I could be wrong. It’s unlikely. But I could be. Raph could decide that you’re entertaining enough to keep you around in the long term. But even if he does, you’ll always just be a girl to warm his bed at night. During the day, in all the ways that really matter, it’ll be me by his side and you’ll have to watch from the gutter where you belong, as he rules Eden with me beside him.

“You’ll be nothing more than Raph’s dirty little secret. Just like you were your daddy’s. Because Raph may not care who knows about you right now, but it will be an entirely different matter when he ascends to the throne. Ironic, isn’t it? You going from being one king’s dirty little secret to another’s?”

I tell myself her words are poison. Lies. But they hit home all the same, because they echo the doubts, the insecurities that have been raging in my own mind since that first kiss. Still, because I’m foolish, I still try to deny it.

“Shut up, Layla. You don’t know what you’re talking about and you sure as hell don’t know Raph—"

She cuts me off with a mocking laugh.

“What? I don’t know Raph the way you do?” She flashes me a cruel smile.

“Oh, honey, you’re right about that. I don’t know him the way you do—I know him better,” she says.

“I’ve known Raph his entire life. You’ve known him for two minutes.

“Raph’s all messed up because of his mommy issues. He goes through these phases where he hates his privileged life, hates his Dynasty, hates his throne, hates his father and all the pressures he puts on him. But at the end of it all, Raph was raised for that throne. Privilege, duty, obligation—it’s all that Raph knows. It’s what makes him who he is.

“If you really knew him, knew just how sick and twisted he is, then you’d stay the hell away from him. Raph is his father’s son. Anyone who believes otherwise is a fool—are you a fool, Jaz?”

It’s a rhetorical question but I answer it in my own mind anyway. Yes. I’ve been a fool. I am a fool.

I’ve been working hard to keep my face from showing just how deep Layla’s words are cutting, but I can’t hide it now and to my horror, I can feel the moisture pooling in my eyes. From the gleeful look on Layla’s face, she sees it, too.

I’m saved from breaking down right in front of this girl who hates the very air I breathe, and who’s just torn up any last shred of hope, when the front door swings open.

Raph, Baron and Lance walk through. Their eyes dart between me and Layla and I’m sure they sense the tension. Raph’s eyes go to me instantly, but I don’t stick around to hear what he has to say.

Without another word, I turn and run up those stairs, away from Raph, from Layla, from the rest of the Dynasty heirs and their sick and twisted world that I want no part of.



It takes Raph all of two minutes after I step through the threshold, to follow me into my room.

I sense him come through the door. But I keep my back to him as I attempt to compose myself. I busy my hands with finishing my packing before the car that Magnus has sent for me comes to collect me later that evening.

Raph says nothing at first, but I sense him coming towards me. His strong arms wrap around my waist, and for a second, I let myself lean back against his chest, let myself feel his warmth, let myself feel his strength.

He drops a kiss to my shoulder, and when he breaths me in, I think I feel my chest crack, because I’ve always loved how much he seems to love the very scent of me, like he needs it more than he needs air to breathe. I’m reminded of that night on the beach after the Gramercie game, when he held me just like this, and told me afterwards that he didn’t want me. If I’d been smart, I’d have walked away right then and there.

Layla’s words are still playing themselves in my mind and I feel sick to my stomach. He told me once that he didn’t have more to give, that it wasn’t his to give, but I’d carried on regardless, willing to take whatever pieces of him I could have. I never thought that I’d be this girl—the bit on the side.

But I guess that’s what I’ve become and the thought of it makes me want to jump in the nearest shower and wash every trace of Raph off me. What makes it more sickening is the fact that I’m probably just living up to everyone’s expectations. Raph, Dani and Keller know the truth, but everyone else probably still thinks that it makes perfect sense that someone with my past would jump into bed with Raph the first opportunity she got, even if the guy basically treated me like shit for those first few weeks. It’s so pathetic, I would laugh, if I didn’t feel like crying.

I find a sliver of resolve from somewhere deep inside me, and force myself to step away.

“What’s wrong, Jaz?” Raph asks gently.

I don’t answer him because I don’t know where to start. We haven’t really talked about what the hell is happening between us since that day in the pool, and even then, there wasn’t much talking. I’ve been too busy letting Raph strip me of my senses. I’m not going to let that happen now.