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I just didn’t want to.
His words stay with me for the rest of the night.
What would’ve happened if I had left with him?
If we ran off for the day, a week, the rest of our lives?
I scoff at how unrealistic that is.
My father would tear the entire continent apart to find me.
I hate that my relationship with Antonio, or whatever the hell it is, is cloaked in secrecy. I fear it always will be.
Billie Eilish’s “Everything I Wanted” plays in the background, and over a dozen lit candles surround me while I take a bath.
I grab the burner perched on the tub’s edge when it beeps with a text.
Villain: How are you feeling?
I can’t help but smile as I reply.
He’s checking up on me.
I feel like a giddy girl whose crush spoke to her for the first time.
Ew.So not fitting in with your Mafia princess reputation, Gigi.
The phone beeps again.
Villain: Thank you for getting dirty for me, princess.
I hit the Reply button.
Me: You’re very welcome for sitting on your face.
Villain: I’m open to you doing that anytime you want.
Me: I might have to take you up on that offer.
My eyes widen as I hit Send.
Are we … sexting?
Villain: You’d fucking better.
My blood hums in my veins, excitement flooding me.
This is kind of fun.
So I up the ante. I hold up the phone and snap a picture of me naked in the tub—my face not in view, of course. I’ve heard enough horror stories of revenge porn.
The phone rings not even ten seconds later.
My cheeks warm, and I nearly drop the phone in the water.
I clear my voice before answering, “Hello?”
“Princess,” he groans. “I’m making you pay for that picture.”
