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Oh. Fredericka said quietly, “You really love her then?”
“More than my life.” And the way the half-Greek playboy spoke, Fredericka knew he was telling the truth. She chewed on her lip harder at the realization, unable to help feeling responsible for the situation Reid Chalkias and Fawn Cornwall now found themselves in.
Fawn loved the prince, and the prince loved his fawn.
But after all that had happened, would love be enough?
If the question had been asked of the world outside the police station, the answer was an unequivocal no.
As soon as the prince stepped out, he became the center of a media circus. Civilian protesters saw in Reid Chalkias an opportunity to spread their hatred, alternately screaming obscenities at him and taunting him for his rumored ties with the Mafia.
The prince’s security did their best to keep everyone away, their stoic expressions mirroring their employer’s as they forcibly opened a path through the throng. But while they were able to secure his safety, they were unable to prevent the rowdy crowd from spitting at the prince and throwing anything and everything they could get their hands on—-
By the time the prince and Fredericka were finally ensconced inside his limousine, the redheaded attorney was shaking with rage. “This is exactly what they did to Vassi Grachyov two years ago,” she told him between clenched teeth. “I hate it when people act like they’re so damn blameless.”
The limousine started to move, and Fredericka said hotly, “Just tell me if you wish me to sue them.”
The prince shook his head. “I’d rather not waste my time on them, and besides, I’m used to such treatment.” He paused, and when he spoke again, quiet gratitude underlined the prince’s voice. “Thank you for agreeing to represent me as well, Attorney Spears.”
“I have to, Mr. Chalkias.” Fredericka’s tone was slightly discomfited. “When I asked permission from Ms. Cornwall to use the video as evidence, I never paused to think of what its impact would be on you or your relationship. I’m afraid…I didn’t really believe her when she told me you love her.”
“You weren’t the only one, attorney.” The prince’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
When the prince reached his home, he thanked the lawyer again and insisted on having his chauffeur drive her back to her office.
Igor was there to greet him by the front doors, and the older man asked, “Are you alright, sir?”
The prince nodded. “I’d appreciate a moment alone.”
“Understood, sir.” Igor had the entire staff disappear from view in moments, and soon the prince was and wasn’t alone.
Memories of Fawn surrounded him.
This was where he and Jason Christakos had spoken in front of Fawn, the prince thought.
He headed down the hallway.
This was where he had first spoken to Fawn after her interview, and she had done her best but failed to make herself smile at him.
He looked at the end of the hallway.
That was where Fawn had thought she was being haunted.
He stopped in front of his study.
And here—-
Here—-
Prince, please. Her cry echoed in his mind, every word whipping his heart.
For your sake, you must learn to forget me.
I can’t. The words repeated over and over, and his heart began to bleed.
Then that’s a pity…because I can forget you.
The prince’s gaze burned.
Oh God, Fawn.
Here was his last chance of saving her from all the fucking agony—-
Here was where he had abandoned her.
Jaw clenching, he forced himself to step inside the study.
And then he started to call.
Again and again.
And typed.
He typed nonstop.
Emails. Text messages. Chats on applications.
I love you.
Please believe me.
I love you.
Please believe me.
One day passed.
Two days.
But the prince didn’t stop trying to contact her. Only the knowledge that the TRO would send him back to jail kept him from visiting her. His fear had nothing to do at all with being behind bars but of not being there for Fawn again if she needed him.
The nights were the hardest, the darkness making it impossible for the prince to hold on to illusions of hope. In his mind, his heart, he knew that his time to reach her was running out. He wished it was paranoia but he knew it wasn’t, the same way the prince had known that last time his biological father had told him goodbye—-
He had known he would never see his father alive again.
Death was like that.
It only needed to meet you once to be a friend for life, never to be forgotten.
And on the fifth day after his release from jail, the prince learned he was right.
He had just forced himself to swallow a few bites of breakfast when he received a call from Derek Christopoulos.
“Reid, I have news.”
“Fawn?” He gripped his phone hard. “Is she alright?”
“You told me to let you know if anything comes up, and she’s just been admitted to Wyndham Hospital. She’ll be undergoing surgery—-”
The prince said abruptly, “I have to go.”
