Page 16 of Destroy Me


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Abbie was also injured during the blast. She had a broken leg, but luckily one of my prince’s friends made sure she got out alive.

I now regret not asking my prince what his name was.

And honestly, I feel silly for referring to him as my prince.

Does he think of me?

Does he even remember me?

“What are you thinking about?” Abbie asks to draw me out of my thoughts.

I never told her he kissed me. I couldn’t bring myself to share it with her. The romantic moment is buried deep in my heart where no one can taint it.

“About St. Monarch’s,” I lie.

“It’s going to be an amazing four years.” Abbie’s excitement is always infectious, and it makes my heart lighten. “Living in a five-star castle,” she sighs dreamily, “and getting pampered whenever we’re not training is going to be amazing.”

“I’m just glad to be out of the house,” I mutter.

Yes, my parents practically locked me up as punishment for going to the nightclub, then finally, my father announced that I’d be attending St. Monarch’s for four years.

St. Monarch’s is a castle that was converted into an exclusive and elite resort and training center for anyone in the criminal world with enough money. It’s also the only neutral ground in the world where no killing is tolerated.

I’m fully aware that St. Monarch’s is run by my father’s enemies, but because the establishment adheres to strict rules, I’ll be safe. St. Monarch’s is open to anyone, whether you’re friend or foe.

Since the previous head of the bratva, Alexei Koslov, took over St. Monarch’s, there have been no known incidents of anyone being killed on the premises.

Believe it or not, there’s a code of honor among criminals, and once you walk through the doors of St. Monarch’s, you’re seen as a paying customer and not an enemy.

“Do you think the training will be hard?” Abbie asks.

“I have no idea.” I lock eyes with my friend. “The best have been trained at St. Monarch’s, so it will probably be brutal.”

It’s not a lie. The best assassins, custodians (protectors and bodyguards), smugglers…God, anything crime-related you can think of has been trained at the establishment.

That’s why we’re going to St. Monarch’s. Our fathers feel it’s time for us to learn about our family businesses. They also want us to learn how to shoot a gun and to be able to defend ourselves in a fight.

During the next four years, we’ll be taught how to carry ourselves as true mafia princesses.

I’m equal parts anxious and excited, but at least I’m no longer stuck at home.

Abbie grins at me. “I hope there are some hot men. Some eye candy will make our time there amazing.”

Abbie’s always positive about everything in life. It’s another reason I love her so much. She always makes the best out of any situation.

When I just smile at her, she carries on, “Imagine we meet our future husbands there?” She rolls her eyes and sighs, “We’ve been lucky that our fathers haven’t forced us into arranged marriages after the nightclub disaster. I feel the next four years will be the last of our freedom. Once we’re done at St. Monarch’s we won’t be able to avoid getting married anymore.”

“True,” I huff.

It’s no secret I’m opposed to an arranged marriage. It’s not the fairytale dream I have for myself.

Even though there are only clouds outside, I glance out of the tiny window again and say, “If only dreams came true.”

“Yeah,” Abbie agrees. She lifts her chin. “We’ll just have to make our own dreams a reality. We’ll train our butts off and become badass bitches who rule the world.”

Laughter bubbles over my lips, and I nod at Abbie. “Yeah, if anyone can do it, it will be you.”

My friend pins me with a serious look. “Us.We’re doing this together.”

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