Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5)(37)

“Wannabe bitch,” whispers Claire, the girl from the other day, as she passes me by.

While I usually don’t give them the time of day, I’m on the edge of myself, and I don’t allow bitches to walk all over me.

So what if I started this for a plan? Everyone needs to know their damn place.

“Hey you.” I stop, forcing Ronan to halt too.

The girl and her friend glare back at me then bat their lashes at Ronan.

“If you have something to say, why don’t you speak out loud for everyone to hear?” My voice is calm, neutral even.

I realise a small crowd has started to gather, but I couldn’t care less. This isn’t about them; it’s about me.

My self-worth. My dignity.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Claire feigns innocence, still giving Ronan that ‘fuck me’ look.

“Aside from the fact that you stole Ronan from her.” The friend, a tall blonde girl, places a hand on her hip.

“Ladies.” Ronan grins, his tone is that loathsome happy-go-lucky one. “Don’t fight. Everyone gets a share.”

Everyone gets a share?

Everyone gets a fucking share?

I’m surprised my face doesn’t combust from the amount of blood rushing to it.

But then again, why should I care? He can give all the shares he wants as long as I get to my end goal.

He doesn’t matter.

“She doesn’t seem to think that way, Ron.” Claire pouts like a fucking kid with issues.

Ron.

Of course they call the man-whore that.

Before he gets a chance to speak, I slide myself out of his hold and stride towards Claire until I’m nose to nose with her. “Do you know why?”

To her credit, she keeps her posture straight, pretending I don’t scare her. After all, the female population in this school agree with her, not me.

“I happen to be his fiancée. Ever heard that term?” I stare down my nose at her. “Google it, and then we can maybe talk about it.”

Claire’s face creases with a scowl, but her friend points a finger at me. “You’re only his fiancée because he’s forced to. Arranged marriage. Google it.”

“I did, and that’s how I managed to officially own him while all of you beg for scraps.” I stare at her then at every girl watching me with either mouths agape or malice in their eyes — or both. “If any of you threaten me, you won’t like how I’ll react. This is my first and final warning.”

And then, I grab Ronan and drag him away from the scene. I expect to find him grinning at the others, offering them his apologetic smiles or whatever he does to seem like an innocent gigolo, but his gaze is entirely on me.

Just me.

Those rich brown eyes with a slightly colourful hue, those brows arching a little. For the first time ever, he’s not smiling or smirking or grinning on the school grounds. If anything, he appears…a bit pissed off?

I have no time to focus on that as I push him down the hall. Once we’re near class, I let him go.

The other girls are watching from afar. Half must be spooked since they think I offer sacrifices to Satan — good. At least that will keep them off my case. The other half seem to hate me even more and are plotting my demise.

Screw them all.

I didn’t come this far for those little bitches to ruin what I’ve worked for.

Do you honestly think that’s the only reason behind your public display of ownership?

I ignore the voice in my head, not wanting to dig into these emotions going through me all at once. It’s hard to comprehend one emotion at a time, let alone all of them.

“What was that all about?” Ronan grabs me by the arm, forbidding my entrance into the class.

“Nothing.” I try to step inside again.

This time, he pulls me behind him and slams my back against the wall of a dark corner near the teacher’s room.

Damn it. What’s with him and pinning me to walls?

And why is my spine tingling with anticipation?

When I meet his gaze, it’s a bit blank, a bit unreadable, a bit shadowed. “I said. What the fuck was that all about?”

Is it so wrong that my entire body comes to life whenever he looks at me that way? Whenever he sheds his mask and shows me his true, raw self?

Only to me. Not anyone else but me.

Still, I use my stern tone. “Don’t you dare disrespect me in front of others, Ronan. I don’t react well to it.”

“Obviously.” His fingers dig into my arm, and although his skin is separated from mine by my jacket and shirt, it’s almost as if he’s gripping my bare flesh and engraving himself into it.

“Let me go,” I hiss, watching our surroundings. Teachers wouldn’t react well to this scene.

“Not before we clear things up.”

“What things?”

“Like your stupid belief that you own me.” His voice is cold, cruel even. “You don’t own me, belle. It’s the other way around.”

I lift my chin. “Is that what you think?”

“That’s what it is, and if you challenge me again, I’ll prove it.”

“Prove it how?”

“Considering your show just now…” He trails off. “You don’t want to know that.”