My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(10)
Former fiancé, more likely.
I raged forward, palms connecting with his chest. “I don’t want to marry you.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” He stepped into my fiery touch, picked up my left hand, and glided Madison’s engagement ring off my finger. “Alas, a tradition is a tradition. I touched; I ruined. Say hello to your new fiancé.” Romeo examined the ring pinched between his fingers, unimpressed. “This thing barely costs sixteen grand.”
He tossed it into the crowd, and a few less-than-honorable girls tried to catch it.
The air drained from my lungs.
Romeo examined my father with a perfect poker face, confident that, despite my recklessness, I wouldn’t dare defy the patriarch’s order if he decided we should marry.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
“Daddy, please.” I rushed to him, lacing my arm with his.
He jerked away from my touch, scowling at his loafers, struggling to regulate his breaths. My cheeks pricked with rejection, as if he’d struck me.
My father had never been so cruel to me before.
I wanted to cry.
I never cried.
Evil had a face. It was breathtakingly beautiful…and belonged to the man who had just become my future husband.
“Why don’t we discuss this away from prying eyes?” Daddy peered around, worn out and pain stricken. I’d probably tarnished that tux for him, too, just as I’d tarnished my future. “Mr. Costa, report to my house immediately.”
Romeo Costa brushed his arm over my shoulder as he passed, not sparing me the faintest look.
“Ruined by shortbread.” He popped a cube of gum into his mouth as his imposing figure descended the stage. “How the mighty have fallen.”
Ollie vB
@RomeoCosta, how’s it feel to pop your scandal cherry?
Welcome to the club, son.
We’ve got snacks. And the Kennedy family.
Romeo Costa
www.dmvpost.org/Von-Bismarck-Heir-Caught-Cozying-Up-To-Georgia-Governors-Wife
Ollie vB
Call me daddy, and I might just pass along my skills.
Zach Sun
Homewrecking is not a skill.
Ollie vB
Tell that to Rom.
He just broke an engagement, reputation, and future in the span of ten minutes.
The student has surpassed the master.
[Shia LaBeouf standing ovation GIF]
Zach Sun
Where is Rom now?
Ollie vB
Her house, probably torching her childhood memorabilia and drowning her pets.
Zach Sun
If I had a heart, it would break for her.
Ollie vB
Judging by the fight she gave him, if anything is going to break here, it’ll be your boy’s spirit by the end of the month.
A million Dallas Townsends waltzed on my brain, their pointy heels stabbing each fold.
I peeled my eyes open.
The room rocked back and forth as if I’d stowed away on a sinking ship.
“Shouldn’t have finished that Pappy Van Winkle by yourself, buddy.” Oliver’s spirited voice echoed from the depths of a toilet. “Sharing is caring.”
Zach tsked from a distance. “For the last time, von Bismarck, that Agent Provocateur model didn’t want a threesome.”
I hissed into a silky pillow at the Grand La Perouse Hotel, regretting every decision I had made that landed me in this hellhole.
Spurred on by a last-minute discovery, the three of us had arrived in Chapel Falls half an hour before the ball.
Presently, we occupied the four-bedroomed presidential suite. Not so much because we enjoyed each other’s company, but because we knew some schmuck had booked it ahead of the ball.
Taking joy in other people’s misery was one of the smallest pleasures in life.
One I often indulged in.
Oliver ambled into the room, his mouth enveloping an unlit cigar.
“You needed to numb the pain away. Erase the memory of fingering a prepubescent girl in front of Fortune 500’s finest.” He shouldered into a polo. “The tab was forty grand on alcohol and cigars alone, by the way. We should get into the business of throwing debutante balls. The world would never be short of privileged young women in need of billionaire husbands.”
The idea of ever wasting my time like this again revolted me. “You’d turn the place into a gambling joint and father a few bastards before the first waltz.”
He plopped onto the edge of my bed, hiking up his riding boots. “Yes, to gambling. No, to bastards. I always pack my meat. No glove, no love.”
Considering he viewed women as a conveyor belt of warm holes to park himself inside for the night, I doubted Oliver was familiar with the notion of love.
He paused, his lips bowing around the cigar. “Not everyone is scrupulous enough to practice your method of ensuring no illegitimate children are in line for the throne.”