Brutal Prince Bonus Scene (Brutal Birthright, #1.5)(17)

“Great,” I say. “But who’s going to protect me from my betrothed? That girl is a wild animal. Can you imagine her as a politician’s wife? I doubt she even knows how to walk in heels.”

“Then you’ll teach her,” my mother says.

“I don’t know how to walk in heels, either,” I say sarcastically. “How exactly am I supposed to teach her to be a lady, mother?”

“She’s young and malleable,” my father says. “You’ll train her, mold her into what she needs to be in order to stand by your side and support your career.”

Young and malleable?

I really don’t think my father got a good look at this girl.

Young she may be, but she’s about as malleable as cast iron.

“What an exciting challenge,” I say through gritted teeth. “I can’t wait to get started.”

“Good,” my father says. “You’ll have your chance at your engagement party next week.”

“Engagement party?” This is a fucking joke. I just found out about this five minutes ago, and apparently, they’re already planning the public announcement.

“You’ll have to agree on your cover story with Aida,” my mother says. “Something like, ‘You started dating casually starting about eighteen months ago. It got serious last fall. You’d planned to wait until after the election to marry but decided you just couldn’t wait anymore.’”

“Maybe you’d better just write the press release for me, mother. Do my wedding vows, too, while you’re at it.”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” my father snaps.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I tell him.

I doubt the same can be said of my future bride. In fact, that might be the one silver lining of this fucking maelstrom—watching my parents have to deal with the little hellcat they’re bringing into this family.





7





Aida





My brothers are in an uproar about my father’s insane plan.

Dante didn’t say anything on the drive home, but I heard him arguing with Papa for hours afterward while shut up together in the study.

It was pointless. Papa is stubborn as a mule. A Sicilian mule that only eats thistles and will kick you in the teeth if you get too close. Once his mind is made up, not even the trump of judgment day could change it.

Honestly, Armageddon would be a welcome respite from what’s actually about to happen.

The very first day after the deal is struck, I get a message from Imogen Griffin telling me about some engagement party on Wednesday night. An engagement party! As if there’s something to celebrate here, and not just a slow-motion train wreck in process.

She also shipped me a ring in a box.

I fucking hate it, of course. It’s a big old square diamond on a bedazzled band, chunky and sure to bang against everything. I keep it shut up in its box on my nightstand, because I have no intention of wearing it before I absolutely have to.

The only good thing in this mountain of shit is that at least Sebastian is doing a little better. He had to have surgery to reconstruct his ACL, but we got the best doctor in the city, the same one who fixed Derrick Rose’s knee. So, we’re hoping he’ll be up and around again before long.

In the meantime, I’ve been going to the hospital to visit him every day. I brought him all his favorite snacks—Reese’s Peanut-butter Cups, string cheese, and salted cashews—and also his schoolbooks.

“Have you ever opened these before?” I tease him, laying the textbooks on his nightstand.

“Once or twice,” he says, grinning from the hospital bed.

The little nighty-thing they gave him to wear is ridiculously tiny on his giant body. His long legs stretch out from under it, his bandaged knee propped up with a pillow.

“You don’t walk around in that thing, do you?” I ask him.

“Only when the hot nurse is on duty.” He winks.

“Gross,” I say.

“You better get used to all things romantic,” Sebastian says. “Since you’re about to be a blushing bride . . .”

“Don’t joke about that,” I snap at him.

Seb gives me a sympathetic look.

“Are you worried?” he says.

“No!” I say at once, though it’s a complete lie. “They’re the ones that should be worried. Callum, especially. I’m gonna strangle him in his sleep the first chance I get.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Sebastian warns me. “This is serious, Aida. It’s not like your semester in Spain or that internship you took with Pepsi. You can’t just skip out of this if you don’t like it.”

“I know that,” I tell him. “I know exactly how trapped I’m about to be.”

Sebastian frowns, hating to see me upset.

“Have you talked to Papa?” he says. “Maybe if you tell him—”

“It’s pointless,” I interrupt. “Dante argued with him all night. He’s not going to listen to anything I have to say.”

I look at Sebastian’s knee, bandaged to twice its normal size and bruised all the way up the thigh.

“Anyway,” I say quietly, “I brought this on myself. Papa’s right—I made this mess, and now I’ve got to fix it.”