“Ain’t gonna spoon you, Good Girl.”

“But you are going to fork me.” She laughed. “And yes, you were thinking of spooning.”

“Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Yes, I was. I was glad Knight didn’t have mind-reading abilities. He’d ride my ass until retirement if he knew I’d wondered how it felt to sleep with Len in my arms.

We walked down the hall toward her room. Save for the owls hooting outside and the crackling of fire in the rooms, the place was silent. We rounded the corner leading to the staff area, where Edgar, Harry, Alma, and the rest of the fuckers resided. Len slipped her hand in mind, lacing our fingers together. Then she froze in her spot all of a sudden, her boots squeaking on the floor.

I turned around to face her. She cocked her head toward her dad’s room. We listened carefully. Voices seeped under the closed door.

“Arabella?” she asked voicelessly, her lips shaping the name.

I advanced toward the door, pressing my ear to it. She did the same next to me. It was risky, but what did I really have to lose? Nothing.

I wasn’t even that hot on the internship.

I was close to executing my plan with Harry, and between pissing Edgar off and letting Lenora down, I knew which side I was on: the one that didn’t fuck someone thirty years their junior.

We heard sniffling, whining, and shuffling, then the uncanny sound of Arabella moaning loudly.

“Darling,” Edgar said, his voice tender and raw.

Arabella moaned again.

“Get off of me, please.”

I unglued myself from the door, taking Len by the arm and dragging her away. She fought me on this, her legs heavy against the floor, trying to shake my touch off. She slapped my hand away when I tightened my grip on her.

“Let me be!” she whisper-shouted.

I turned around, baring my teeth. “So you can hurt yourself some more? The fuck I will.”

“Vaughn.”

“Len.”

We stood like this for a moment before I scooped her up by tackling her midriff, flinging her over my shoulder, and marching down the corridor like a caveman. She pounded her little fists, clawing with her nails into my flesh through my shirt.

“Let me down!”

“Enough people have done that recently. I think I’m gonna stick to being the voice of fucking reason. My first executive decision is to leave.”

“What about my father?”

My father. Goddamn posh people. She very rarely called him Dad. Every time she called him Papa, I had flashbacks to an Oliver Twist musical my parents once dragged me to.

“I’ll deal with him.”

“He’s my problem.” She scoffed, still draped over my shoulder as I rounded the corridor toward her room.

“Well, now he’s ours.”

“Put me down, Vaughn. I mean it.”

She was already walking the tightrope between deranged with anger and emotional, and I didn’t want her to feel more powerless than she already felt, so I lowered her to the floor. She looked away, refusing to let me see her tears. I pawed both her cheeks, relishing how small she was in my hands.

“Look at me.”

She dragged her eyes to mine reluctantly, blinking away tears. I pressed my lips to hers as gently as I possibly could.

She’d opened her mouth to say something when a voice behind her cut through the air, interrupting.

“Well, well, the heartless prince not only lives past nineteen, he also loves. That’s a twist in the story I didn’t see coming.” Harry Fairhurst strode forward, climbing the stairway and stopping in front of us. His arm was in a cast and sling. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked even thinner than his usual malnourished self. There was no humor in his voice, just malicious intent.

But the real kicker were the words he’d carefully used.

Prince.

Heartless.

Lives.

Loves.

He remembered every single one of our encounters. Each verbal exchange. Shouldn’t have surprised me.

I glowered. Him seeing this was not in my plan.

Lenora turned around, flashing him a smile.

“Uncle Harry! You’re back from the hospital. How’re you feeling? No more coffee for you, you clumsy thing,” she joked, running to him and flinging her arms over his shoulders.

Two things happened simultaneously. One, I realized that Len truly liked her uncle, and there was nothing I could do to change that. Two, she was never going to forgive me for what I was about to do.

I leaned against the wall and shoved my hands into my pockets, watching as he kissed both her cheeks and flung her blonde ponytail with a familiarity that told me he’d done it a thousand times before. And why wouldn’t he? He was her uncle.

“Thank you for the new jumper, by the way.” She took a step back, seeming to forget all about Edgar.

I knew she’d been raised here, in this castle, so it made sense that she was close to him. I just hadn’t thought of that.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You’re never going to wear it.” He flicked her ponytail again.

Stop touching her.

She shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts.”

They both laughed. Harry ran his cool eyes from me to her, a vicious smile tugging at his lips.

“So, Lenny, are congratulations in order? Is the talented Vaughn Spencer your new beau?”

She frowned, about to deny it, and at this point, denial was exactly what I needed. He shouldn’t think he had leverage on me. Especially in the form of a pussy. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt her to get to me, and he needed to know she was off limits.

I took a step forward. “Yeah, I’m the boyfriend. Nice to see you again, Mr. Fairhurst. Oh, wait…” My eyes flicked to his cast. “You can’t shake my hand. Never mind.”

Lenora’s head shot up, her gaze chasing mine. Fine, I’d declared us as a couple without consulting her. But really, we were exclusively fucking each other and throwing fits whenever the other breathed in another person’s direction. It wasn’t far-fetched.

“Is that so?” Harry lifted a brow.

I could already see the wheels in his brain turning, trying to figure out a way to use it in his advantage.

“No other way for it to be,” I said wittily. “And you’d be wise to remember that.”

Yet again, I threw myself into the fire to save her skinny ass, dumb motherfucker that I was.

“Nice,” he said, taking the hint.

“Haven’t been called that before, but I’ll take it.” I threw an arm over Good Girl’s shoulder, taking off toward her room again.

Len turned around to look at her uncle, then looked up at me, confused. “What was that all about?”

I ignored her question.

That was one secret I was taking to my grave.

I woke up alone.

Vaughn’s warmth had evaporated right along with his hard frame. I scrubbed the sleep out of my eyes and sat upright, trying to ignore the painful echo of Papa’s whispers to Arabella last night. There was no mistaking what had been happening there. He’d told her to get off of him. That meant she was on top of him—and not to play chicken fight, presumably.

I stretched, trying not to worry about what last night with Vaughn had meant. He’d said I was his girlfriend, but Vaughn was a master manipulator, and had many reasons to say things—many reasons that had nothing to do with his actual feelings.