Page 40 of Heartless Sinner

He wasn’t even breathing hard.

Meanwhile, my lungs felt like they were ready to burst.

I sidestepped him, putting as much distance between me and the edge as possible.

I’m not giving him a second opportunity to play cliff-dangle.

He crowded me against the stone wall, as if he wanted to bury me inside it. The jagged rock cut through my dress.

“Let that be your warning, Princess. You belong to me until I tire of you.”

I turned toward the sea and sucked in my first breath in five minutes that didn’t taste like pure panic. That lasted all of two seconds.

Brooks delved a hand into my hair and tugged the tiara free.

My headpiece tore loose with it, raining hairpins across the stone. He let the headpiece fall but slipped my tiara into his pocket like he’d just found a lucky penny.

Great.

It could survive a near-death experience, but not Brooks Byron.

“Until next time, Princess.”

He left me there shivering in my torn dress as the wind bit into my skin without looking back once.

I didn’t run after him.

Didn’t ask him to wait for me.

I grabbed my headpiece and counted to ninety to make sure I was far behind him before starting back toward the castle. Barefoot.

Every step over the jagged rock hurt like hell. I cursed Brooks with every one.

Tonight made one thing clear: there was no way I was becoming Cory’s Fawn.

Now on to plan B: Make Brooks fall in love with me.

If that was what it took to survive being his Fawn, fine.

Then I’d ruin him before he ruined me.

Nine

Brooks

“Why the hell are you in Calira?” my father sneered over the phone.

I smirked at the irritation in his voice. “Mini vacation.”

“Mini vacation, my ass. Don’t think I forgot that’s Daphne’s country.”

“Who says she’s here?” I traced the edge of one stone on Daphne’s tiara. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me to make her life a living hell? I’m only following your instructions.”

“Then you’d better stick to the fucking plan. And don’t you dare start caring about that fucking cunt. You hear me?”

I made a yapping-dog motion with my free hand.

“I want her to suffer. And don’t you dare let your mother know I said that.”