Page 47 of Heartless Sinner

My grandfather spread his arms wide in greeting, as if the man who’d nearly killed me last night was our guest of honor. “Welcome!” His voice boomed louder. “Welcome!”

What the actual fuck?

Of course. Brooks had used my grandfather’s desperation to repair Calira’s relationship with the States to score himself a seat at dinner.

The King never doted on foreign representatives like this. He hadn’t even been this welcoming to Brooks’s father.

My stomach soured as Brooks stopped to bow at my grandparents. It was respectful, but still half-assed. He did the same with my mother and Oriana.

But me? He skipped right over.

Oriana let out a smug little laugh.

There was no love like family love.

I briefly considered throwing my wine in her face. Then smashing the glass and stabbing Brooks with it.

Murder seemed to be my mood for the evening.

I’d have to sage the hell out of myself before returning to Saint Vale.

I caught Oriana and Vittoria openly eye-fucking Brooks, and my wineglass started looking useful again.

“The seat beside my lovely granddaughter is open,” my grandfather announced, gesturing toward me. “Per your request.”

I refused to look at Brooks as his familiar cologne drifted over me and he sat. I balled my napkin in my fist before smoothing it over my lap like the perfectly behaved princess I definitely wasn’t.

The second the servers came in and distracted everyone, I rammed my shin into his.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper-hissed.

“I was invited,” he said, unrolling his silverware while a server placed bowls of clam chowder in front of us.

“And what did you trade for that invite?”

“None of your concern.” He licked his lips, stole my wineglass, and took a drink. “Mmm … that’s good.”

“Are you kidding me?” I spat, grabbing for the glass, but he pulled it back.

He drained the rest and set the empty glass neatly beside my plate.

Everyone at the table was watching us, enjoying the show. Well, except for my grandfather. He was not amused.

As we ate, Brooks slipped a hand under the table and gripped my thigh. I nearly choked on my next bite when he raised his fingers higher.

The asshole was casually discussing politics with my grandfather like his hand wasn’t right between my legs.

Being the mature adult I was, I decided to ignore him.

Even when he stroked his thumb right over my pussy and heat swarmed in my belly.

I shoveled another spoonful of chowder into my mouth while trying hard not to stab him with my knife.

By the time dinner ended, I was damn proud of myself for not losing my shit. I hadn’t yelled. Hadn’t even thrown my wine in his face.

Brooks stood and purposely dropped his napkin. When he bent to retrieve it, his mouth stopped beside my ear.

“When can I do that throne fucking, Princess?” he whispered into it.