Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5)(76)

You didn’t let that man take your life. I let him take mine.

The thing is, we met under the wrong circumstances, Ronan.

I didn’t approach you for you. I approached you for your family name.

I approached you because you’re the son of the man I decided to kill.

Your father took my life, and now I’m taking his.

I feel so sorry for you and Charlotte and even Lars, but I can’t live in a world where scum like Edric Astor exists.

I know you will never forgive me, but I hope you find it in you to understand me.

What I feel for you is more than love. It’s something overpowering, but also empowering. It’s believing I can be normal even when I don’t know what normal is. It’s smiling and laughing out loud without even realising it.

I wish we’d met under different circumstances and with different names.

I wish I could wake up to your face every day.

If there’s a next life, let’s meet there, okay?



Goodbye,

Teal





32





Teal





It’s so easy.

The whole process went off without a hitch. I had to stop and stare in my rear-view mirror a few times, expecting to find police cars following us.

There aren’t.

The trip to the forest takes me less than fifteen minutes. There were almost no cars on the way, no people roaming around this early morning, and I make sure to use deserted routes.

No one has witnessed the man beside me, his eyes closed and his entire body slack. If they did, they’d think he was asleep and I’m just taking him on a drive.

I am taking him on a drive — just not where he’s supposed to go.

When I called Edric for a meeting, I told him it was urgent and about Ronan. He immediately agreed.

Then, I drove to his mansion in Knox’s Range Rover — I left him a note about it and kind of suggested he get a new car.

After I gave Lars the letter I wrote to Ronan, there was a small voice that told me I should turn around and leave — just go somewhere, anywhere. I don’t have to do this or anything that followed.

But the little girl on my shoulder is still crying. She can’t stop, and neither can I.

So, I asked Edric if he was okay with joining me in my car because I didn’t want to talk about it in his house. Once again, he didn’t suspect anything as he slid into the passenger seat.

The moment he looked down to click the seatbelt into place, I jammed the needle I’d already prepared in his neck, and not just any jamming — I did it intravenously.

Since I decided to kill him, I’ve been arranging my dominos one by one. I knew how I’d kill him and how I’d get there. I’ve been watching videos about intravenous injections and practising on dolls. I learnt it so thoroughly I could do it with my eyes closed.

My medicine of choice is rocuronium because it’s paralysing, fast, and long-lasting. It’s also prescription only, but when I asked Agnus if he could find a way to get it, he brought me two bottles the next day, no questions asked. That’s what I love about Agnus — his ability to understand. He only said to call him, not Dad, if I do something.

I’m not calling anyone.

The drug took effect on Edric within a minute. I still remember the confused expression on his face after the sting of the needle as he slowly turned around.

He didn’t understand what had happened.

He didn’t understand that I’m capable of doing that to him.

I haven’t looked at his face since then. I still don’t.

All I’ve done is drive.

At one point, I’m too light-headed; it’s kind of alarming. It’s like I can’t feel my face or my limbs or anything.

With the dose I gave him, I have around twenty to thirty minutes until he regains complete consciousness. Sure, I could’ve found a poison, injected him with it, and ended it there.

But that’s too peaceful, too easy.

Besides, he needs to know the sins he’s paying for.

His limbs start twitching and so do his lids. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that means the drug is slowly starting to wear off. I have another needle at the ready so when he meets his end, he won’t be able to move a muscle.

Like me.

Like the little girl crying on my shoulder.

He’ll die unable to do any fucking thing about it, just like I couldn’t.

This isn’t revenge. This is fucking karma.

I slam on the brakes right at the top of a hill. The early morning lights are visible in the distance. Today, the clouds are so thick and grey, as if in mourning.

Taking a deep breath, I face him.

His eyes are open, but he can’t turn around to look at me. He just stares ahead like a zombie with his brains sticking out.

“You’re going to die, Edric,” I say in a neutral tone, knowing the effects of the drug are fading and he can hear me even if he can’t move. “It’s a nightmare to want to move but not have the ability to, isn’t it?” I continue. “That’s how I felt every time you walked into my room and jerked off to my body. That’s how I stayed when your semen coated my skin.”

He makes an unintelligible sound, but all he manages to get out is drool that trickles down his chin. I couldn’t begin to think what he means by that — not that it matters. This time, it’s all about me, not him.