A Royal Mistake

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A Royal Mistake Page 7

by Piper Rayne


  Rian raises her eyebrows at Blanca. They both think this is crazy. Maybe it is.

  Adrian turns on his charm with Blanca, holding his hand out to her. “Hello, I’m Adrian Marx.”

  God, his accent is so sexy.

  Bella leans forward. “Prince. Adrian. Marx.” As though she might need clarification.

  He chuckles and turns his attention back to Blanca. “Where do I sleep? In your bed?”

  Ethan’s arm quickly hangs over her shoulder in a protective manner. “Not happening.”

  “Sierra mentioned I could borrow a bed while I stay here. Temporarily, of course. Would you like compensation?”

  “That accent,” Bella sighs.

  “I have an accent too. A New York accent,” Carm yells.

  “No, no compensation. So you’re moving in here?” Blanca clarifies, her gaze shooting from me to him to Ethan and to Adrian again.

  “Yes. Sierra said that would be okay.”

  Blanca turns to me and I giggle like the schoolgirl I am right now. “Can you believe it?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”

  Rian grabs my arm. “Excuse us, Your Highness.” She curtsies, and Adrian laughs.

  Blanca is quick to follow, and the three of us end up in Rian’s room with the door shut.

  “Explain this to me, Sierra, because I had this lovely girl coming for an interview tomorrow,” Rian says, ever patient. She’s never quick to react. I’m the time bomb in our friendship.

  “He’s taking two months off from being a prince.”

  They aren’t nearly as surprised as I was. They actually seem indifferent.

  “Okay, and why does that have anything to do with us?” Rian asks.

  “Did you sleep with him?” Blanca asks, her eyes already casting judgment when her gaze dips down at my clothes.

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” I joke.

  “Sure, you do,” Rian says. “That’s all you do. Am I going to be stuck in a sexfest for two months?”

  “No.” Although I kind of secretly hope there is more sex. Only because he’s so talented.

  Rian’s expression says she doesn’t believe me. The unbreakable smile on my face probably doesn’t help with her assessment.

  “Okay, I’m not sure. But he asked if he could take the spare room in exchange for an exclusive interview. You guys know how much I’ve wanted to move up to anchor. Maybe if I score this interview, I have a chance. I can’t be a beat reporter for some local station forever.”

  Blanca’s shoulders fall because unlike Rian, she understands the work thing. Rian is happy writing textbook questions and baking in her free time. She’s content in that facet of her life, whereas Blanca and I are on a quest to climb the ladder as high and fast as we can get there. Fuck any glass ceilings along the way. We’ll bust through them.

  “How is the prince paying for rent?” Rian asks.

  “I’m paying the first month for sure. In exchange for the interview.”

  Blanca balks. “Can you afford that?”

  I nod. I have money tucked away from my mom dying in action that I hardly ever touch.

  Blanca says nothing because she doesn’t have a say. She doesn’t live here anymore. But a line forms between her brows as she leans forward and lowers her voice. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. What happens in two months?”

  “He returns to Sandsal and has to carry out his royal duties.”

  Rian’s head falls into her hands. “This is insane. We’re living with a prince?”

  “Thanks for understanding, Rian.” I should have called her before agreeing to it, I know that, but I was caught up in the moment. We’re roommates and friends. “It was wrong of me to agree to it without speaking to you first.”

  She shrugs. “It will be a little uncomfortable at first like when…”

  We still walk on eggshells sometimes when it comes to mine and Ethan’s past relationship, even though Blanca and Ethan are together now.

  “I know, but there’s no relationship between Adrian and me, so there shouldn’t be any fights or anything.”

  Rian nods, but I can tell she’s worried. “I guess I should go meet him and get to know him a bit.” She stands and heads for the door.

  Before Rian can open it, Blanca almost plows me over with her arms wrapped tight around me. “Be careful, okay? He has those family obligations he’ll never walk away from, and I’m sure there’s no Sandsal version of Barbara Walters you can replace there.”

  “I will.”

  “I do expect a full report on the sex at a later date though.” Blanca smiles, releasing me.

  “Definitely,” Rian adds. “And if you have sex, do it in your bedroom. That way you’re at least a room away.”

  I grin. “Noted.”

  I couldn’t ask for better friends.

  We walk out of the bedroom to find Adrian on the couch with a beer in his hand, sandwiched between Enzo and Carm, Blanca’s brothers. They hammer question after question at him about his royal life. Bella sits next to Carm, perched on the arm of the couch in rapt attention as her boyfriend rubs her ass as though there’s no one else in the room.

  Val and Annie talk at the kitchen table while Val eats the last of the oatmeal scotchie cookies Rian made a few days ago.

  Dom approaches Blanca. “Are we ordering food? Val needs fuel for the baby.”

  “I can order something.” Blanca goes to the drawer with the menus. “What do you want?”

  “Don’t mind your brother. I’m fine. These are good.” Val holds up half-eaten cookie.

  “Babe, the baby needs something besides sugar,” Dom says.

  She leans back and rubs her belly. “Sugar makes baby happy.” She takes his hand and rests it on her swollen belly. His face lights up with a smile that probably matches mine at the moment.

  “Is she kicking?” Annie’s hand shoots across the table.

  “Who said it’s a she?” Dom asks.

  Annie laughs. “A hunch.”

  “Mama thinks it’s a boy, but I think that’s wishful thinking,” Blanca chimes in.

  I stare at the Mancini family. A family I always wanted to be a part of. Ethan swings his arm over Blanca’s shoulder and kisses her cheek.

  “Oh, I felt it!” Annie screeches, earning Enzo’s attention for a moment. “The little girl is kicking.”

  “Watch it, Annie,” Dom warns with the same razor edge tone he’s had since we were younger.

  “Don’t talk to my fiancée like that.” Enzo stands.

  Adrian and Carm turn around. Adrian’s gaze meets mine, and as the Mancini family do what they do best—bicker—I’m lost in the sea of blue in his eyes.

  Will I be able to get through two months without falling head over heels in love with this man? What did I sign myself up for?

  Chapter Ten

  Adrian

  * * *

  I’m used to having my own space. Not that I’m not enjoying spending time with everyone, but I thought that moving in with Sierra meant Sierra and Rian. After Blanca’s family left, the three guys from across the hall never left unless it was to grab something and come right back. And Blanca and Ethan keep coming by to ask for a screwdriver or a hammer or some other tool.

  The buzzer from downstairs sounds and Rian answers it since she’s in the kitchen. From what I can tell, she’s always doing something in there, whether it’s cooking, baking, or cleaning. If this was my apartment, my friends would assume she was my servant.

  “I have a delivery for Athos Dumas,” the crackling voice of a woman says through the speaker.

  “Oh, I’m sorry—”

  “That’s me.” I stand and all eyes land on me.

  Rian’s head tilts, but she presses the button. “Come on up.”

  “Athos Dumas?” Sierra asks from her spot on the couch.

  “It’s my fake name for hotels and stuff. It’s a nod to the Three Musketeers. Don’t ask.”

  “You have to check in under a fake name lik
e movie stars?” Seth asks, his jaw slightly open. “Do women stand outside your hotel room, chanting your name?” His smirk says he can’t imagine that’s the truth.

  “Women never chant my name, no. But after my grandfather was assassinated by some woman’s spiked heel in his throat, all the men in our family have to use pretend names at hotels. And any woman who enters our room must be barefoot.”

  “Spiked heel to the throat?” Seth asks, wide-eyed.

  Sierra says nothing, but she knows I’m lying. Which makes me wonder if she’s aware of the fact that my grandfather is alive and celebrating his seventy-fifth birthday next year.

  “Yes, there was blood everywhere. My grandmother thought it was his mistress. The press was all over it.”

  “Seriously?” Seth asks.

  “No.” I shake my head, and it takes a moment for him to realize I was lying.

  “Bastard. I thought for sure you were telling the truth. It was going to make me look at those sexy spiked heels differently the next time I see them on a hot woman.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Sierra says, hitting him in the thigh with her foot.

  He shrugs. “Probably not. You should pick a cool name to go by.”

  “You should’ve used Ben Jergen Hoff,” Dylan says, laughter sputtering out of him.

  The rest of the gang joins in.

  “And your girlfriend can be Ivana Humpalot,” Seth adds.

  “I went to college with a guy named Ben Dover,” Rian says from the kitchen.

  Dylan slaps his thigh and points at her while he laughs. Her cheeks redden.

  “What about Willie Stroker?” Knox points at Seth and he points back, almost spitting out his beer.

  “I forgot about that guy. I always felt bad for him,” Seth says once he’s swallowed the beer in his mouth.

  “He should’ve gone by Bill Stroker, or really just anything else.” Knox sips his beer, shaking his head as if the guy is in the room.

  “That’s what I’ll never understand. Why wouldn’t these people change their names?” Dylan asks. “Not to mention, do parents never think about their kids going to high school?”

  They all laugh, and I look around at the group. I like the way they’re so close.

  A knock sounds on the door, and I open it to find three bags and a woman heaving for a breath. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail under a black baseball cap.

  “Want some water?” I ask her.

  “Thanks.” She steps in.

  Rian grabs a bottle from the fridge, hands it to me, and I pass it on to her. I dig into my pocket to get her some money for a tip, but she waves me off.

  “I’ve already been tipped by the guy. Oh.” She nods as if she just remembered, digging into her back pocket. “He told me to give this to you.”

  The envelope is white and thick. I should send Jean a huge thank you since my parents have denied me all access to family money.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. He’s lucky, you know. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s in that envelope. Most people would’ve run away with your luggage and your money, Athos.” She snickers at my name, which means she’s figured out it’s not my real name.

  “Leilani?” Knox says from behind me.

  The water bottle pauses at her lips. “Knox?”

  The room behind me is silent now. I’m obviously not the only one who doesn’t know this girl. Or maybe they all know exactly who she is and that’s why they’re quiet, waiting to see how this plays out.

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” His large frame brushes past me and his arms wrap around her small frame, lifting her feet off the floor.

  The woman’s eyes briefly shut as her arms lock around his neck.

  They’ve obviously shared more than a friendship in the past.

  I glance at Rian because she’s the closest to me, but she shrugs. Her gaze floats to the other side of the room to meet the other confused faces.

  “Who’s your friend, Knox?” Dylan asks.

  Knox lowers her to the floor and asks her, “Where have you been? Last I heard you were on the west coast.”

  The woman nods but her smile is timid, as though she doesn’t want to go into specifics.

  “We need to catch up. My apartment.” Knox takes her hand and escorts her across the hall.

  When the door shuts, we all stare at one another, looking dumbfounded.

  “I guess we’re not getting an introduction,” Dylan says.

  I pick up my three pieces of luggage and head to my room.

  “Want help?” Sierra asks.

  “Nah, I’ve got it.”

  Once I’m in the room that still has Blanca’s girly light-pink-and-white comforter on the bed, I open the envelope Jean added to my belongings.

  * * *

  Adrian,

  * * *

  Here are your belongings from the hotel. Declan and I have been filled in on your decision and are returning to Sandsal in the morning. This is all the money I had for our trip. Enjoy your two months.

  “Your greatest responsibility is to love yourself and to know you are enough.”

  * * *

  ~ Jean

  * * *

  Jean has this insistent need to recite quotes and write them on things I’ll find. He thinks I doubt my ability to be king, but truth is, I don’t want the position. I fold up his letter and stuff the cash into my dresser, laying my boxers over it.

  Unpacking three suitcases doesn’t take long, so I enjoy the quiet of the room a bit more before rejoining everyone. But I didn’t leave my life in Sandsal to hole myself up in a stranger’s apartment, so I walk out and join the group. Everyone except Knox is still there. Apparently the guys from across the hall never leave.

  “When is Mama Mancini coming back? Why isn’t she here to help Blanca move?” Seth asks, groaning as he holds his stomach.

  “The ‘rents aren’t very happy with the ‘living in sin’ situation,” Dylan says, not taking his eyes off the television.

  “Really? Don’t her brothers live with their girlfriends?” Rian asks.

  “They do,” Sierra says.

  “That’s shitty,” Seth adds.

  “Yeah, but to be expected. She’s the only daughter and youngest in an Italian family.” Sierra chuckles and slides over on the couch to make room for me. “All unpacked and ready to live a life of boring normalcy?”

  All eyes are on me and I feel like a petri dish science experiment. “I might go out and buy a few things.”

  “Want me to tag along? I could show you more of the town.”

  She’s so excited that I hate to turn her down, but I need to come to grips with what I did in a spur-of-the-moment decision because I was pissed off at my parents.

  “Nah, you stay with your friends. I won’t be long.” I head toward the door.

  They all say goodbye, none of them enthusiastic. More like they think I should’ve let Sierra come with me.

  “Wait, a key!” Sierra hops up off the couch. “These were…” She waves. “Doesn’t matter. They’re yours for the next two months.”

  Her smile suggests she’s not angry with me for needing a little alone time, so I take the keys with a thank you and leave.

  Cliffton Heights is quaint and reminds me of one of those small towns depicted in the majority of Hallmark movies. Thanks to Felicia, I know all about those movies and how wrong they get royalty.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see my brother’s name flash across the screen.

  “Hey, bud,” I answer.

  “You’re not coming back from America?”

  I anticipated his call once my parents told him. If I could ship him over, I would, but Mom would never allow that. “I am, but not right away.”

  “Two months! Mom said two months!”

  “Yeah, but I have my Xbox. We can play together here.”

  “Why? Is it Dad?”

  How do you tell a ten-year-old that our dad
isn’t the man we thought he was? “No, I just need some time away.”

  “I heard Dad and Mom fighting. They said you’ll have to step up and be king.”

  God I hope it doesn’t come to that. At the same time, my mom deserves better than my father.

  “We’ll see what happens. Right now, just keep going to school and doing your thing. You have my number. Call me whenever.”

  “I hate the way everyone thinks they can keep secrets from me.”

  I laugh. Sometimes I try to find all his hiding places when he eavesdrops on conversations. The kid knows more about what goes on in our castle than even our servants.

  “Well, they’re trying to protect you.”

  He says nothing for a moment. “Am I going to have to marry someone I don’t love?”

  “No, because when I’m king, I’ll change that rule.” I kick at a small stone as I continue down the sidewalk—where to, I’m not sure.

  “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure you have the power.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The kid is right, but I’ll try my best. No one should be shackled to someone else just because we were born into two royal families. My parents are an example of that.

  I reach a parkette with a large gazebo in the middle and make my way over, sitting down inside to take in my new home for the next two months. I listen for a few minutes while Rowan fills me in on a game of Fortnite that he and his friends played yesterday.

  When I spot Blanca struggling with a box down the street, I say, “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

  “Wait!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you, like, going to get a job and stuff? Mom told Dad he shouldn’t have cut you off but…” He stops talking, probably because he doesn’t want to give me a reason to hate my father more.

  “I’m not sure, why?”

  “I just wonder why you’d want to move to America and work when you could be here?”

  I have no response. At ten, I thought my life was pretty fantastic too.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I say.

 

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