Page 80 of Her Royal Treatment


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He stuck out his hand. I took it.

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

“My pleasure. Now, get your ass out there and save that princess.”

36

VICTORIA

Once again I was trapped in a golden cage.

It was shaping up to be the story of my life.

My ankle throbbed as I lay on the bed in the gorgeous, magnificently appointed bedroom. The walls were white, and trimmed with gold, the ceiling high and arched, the space decorated with beautiful Italian antiques. The window, though barred, looked out onto the stunning Mediterranean coast.

Regardless of how beautiful and luxurious my accommodations were, I was still stuck. My right arm was handcuffed to the bedpost, and even if I did manage to break through that and the barred windows, the guard patrolling outside let me know that I wouldn’t get very far at all. The guys were my only hope, and I had no idea if they even knew where I was.

A knock sounded at the door, my stomach tightening at the noise.

“Who the hell is it?”

A soft chuckle sounded, followed by the door unlocking and opening.

Jurgen Muller stepped into the room.

“Is that any way for a princess to talk?” he asked. “You ask me, I think you’ve been spending too much time with those disgusting mercenaries.”

The way Jurgen looked, it was hard to tell that he was pure evil. He was tall and slender, with a narrow face and large, steel-colored eyes. His hair was silver and thinning at the temples. Everything about him was long and thin, down to his skinny-fit gray suit adorned with a purple pocket square. If it weren’t for the suit and the massive estate, it would be difficult to tag him as a billionaire.

There was something in those eyes, however, a gleaming that let you know he was up to something no good. One last detail set him apart—the long, jagged scar that started at his right jawline and traveled with sharp, erratic angles all the way up to his scalp, disappearing into his hairline.

“Don’t even talk about them,” I said, venom in my words. “You don’t have the right.”

He let out an amused snort. “You’ll find that when you have as much money as I do, you have the right to do whatever you want.” He spoke with the same French-laced accent that marked him right away as a citizen of Candara.

He nodded to someone outside of the door. Immediately a slender, pretty woman in a long lilac-colored dress came into the room, a tray in her hands. She placed the tray on the small table next to the bed and hurried out without uttering a word or even making eye contact with me. She had a strange, blank look on her face, almost robotic-like, and an emptiness behind her eyes.

“Something to eat,” Jurgen said, nodding toward the food.

“Not hungry,” I replied without looking at him.

He flicked his eyes at me in a way that made it clear he didn’t appreciate his will being denied. Jurgen grabbed a chair from the nearby desk, placed it at the end of the bed, and sat down.

“You’re likely to be here for a while Victoria, and you’re going to need to eat to keep up your strength. The food’s good—trust me. And no, it’s not poisoned.”

“You say that like it’s unreasonable for me to think you’d pull something like that.”

He smirked. “No, that’s not what I have planned for you at all.”

“Then whatdoyou have planned?” I tried my hardest to hide my fear.

“Do you know how I got this scar, dear?” he asked, placing the tip of his slender index finger on the scar. “Your father. Your father did this to me. One night back in boarding school, he and his idiot friends were out for a joyride and didn’t see me riding my bike on the side of the road. This scar was the least of what they did, believe it or not. My back was broken, along with my arm and leg. I had to give up my lacrosse dreams, and my father, seeing me as nothing more than a cripple, passed me over in favor of my brother to take over the family business.”

“Is this one of those villain monologues?” I asked, feigning disinterest. “Because you can spare it.”

He smiled. “You’re going to listen. You’re going to know why I’m doing all of this.”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was holding all of the cards. I said nothing, letting him continue.

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