Page 41 of Heartless Sinner

“I won’t,” I replied.

Not because I cared about my mother being mad at him.

I just didn’t want to listen to the shitstorm when she found out.

My father had promised my mother that Marjorie and Daphne were off-limits. Mom and Marjorie weren’t as close anymore, but she still cared about her.

So, Dad kept his Daphne-hating ranting behind closed doors.

It was laughable that was what he was scared about Mom finding out.

Not the affairs.

Not the mistresses he’d paid off.

Not the corruption that would destroy our family if it ever became public.

Nope. Talking shit about Daphne and Marjorie was where the man drew the line.

Which was why I also needed to make sure Mom and Adelina couldn’t find out Daphne was my Fawn.

My biggest problem was that Daphne had a big mouth. One that seemed incapable of ever shutting.

The conversation turned to him bitching about poll numbers. I put the call on speaker and tossed my phone onto the bed, keeping Daphne’s tiara in my hand.

Opening the nightstand drawer, I pulled out the carved cigar box that’d once belonged to my grandfather. I’d inherited it after his mistress shot him with his own hunting rifle. My father told the public he’d suffered a heart attack.

My father hadn’t exactly lied.

A heart problem did kill him.

A bullet had just done the attacking.

I grabbed my phone off the bed and carried Daphne’s tiara with me to the table in the corner. I dug the weed and rolling papers out of the cigar box and started rolling a blunt.

Once it was ready, I took a slow drag.

The first hit took the edge off almost instantly.

A few more and listening to my father became slightly more tolerable.

“Now, make your trip short,” he told me.

I exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Got it.”

“While you’re there, talk to King Vermont. See if we can make any deals. I’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Aye aye.”

We ended the call. I finished my blunt and dragged my laptop across the table.

I cracked my neck and pulled up Daphne’s feed. I’d paid a castle guard to plant cameras in her room.

The second she filled the screen, I dragged my chair closer.

She was stretched across the bed on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Her hair was a messy disaster around her shoulders, nothing like the perfectly put-together princess from last night.