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“Sir—” Christoph attempted.
Carlo paused and turned his head. “The bill. I’ll have my man here give you the details. And I do hope we all have an understanding that none of this is to be in the press at any point.” His tone was deadly.
Christoph swallowed thickly, his gaze darting to mine. I was going to pay for that later, but it was hard to give a shit when I was standing beside one of the most powerful men in our country. I smiled, and he looked like he wanted to murder me where I stood.
Luckily, Carlo’s request was met with quiet, nervous nods, and that seemed to satisfy him enough because he gripped me by the forearm and tugged me along through the open doors. I was still in makeup and costume, which was not how I wanted to present myself to Camillo, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be allowed to argue for a shower now.
Carlo walked with purpose, stopping for no one, his small entourage behind him. We didn’t slow until we were in the parking garage, and like a gentleman, he held the door for me, which felt all wrong. Shouldn’t he go first?
“Um.”
“Just get in,” he said, smacking me on the shoulder. “No one gives a shit if no one’s watching.”
His men were watching, and God, what if they reported back to the king and queen about how shitty I was at following rules? But I did as he said because that seemed like a bigger crime than bending etiquette, and I ducked into his massive SUV.
He was right behind me, then three men climbed in, and he grinned, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Alright, four to one odds,” he said.
Which meant…what?
The man with the blond hair on Carlo’s right laughed. “Five.”
“Fine,” Carlo said. “Five to one. I think he was about to piss his pants, so I’m going with nothing.”
The man with the darkest hair stroked his chin. “Small article in a print magazine.”
Carlo grimaced. “You literally never win, Markus. It’s like you enjoy giving away your money.”
The man—Markus, apparently—shrugged. “I’m going with my gut.”
The man with light brown hair snorted. “Your gut is a joke. I’m not taking this bet. I’m pretty sure hedidpiss his pants a little.”
Were they talking about me?
“Pretty boy,” Carlo said. I realized he was speaking to me.Pretty boy?
“Um, no, thank you?”
Carlo raised a brow. “No bets?”
“Not a pretty boy.”
“My brother certainly thinks so, and I think it fits.” Carlo looked me up and down. “I’ve never really liked men. Don’t get me wrong, I sucked a few cocks when I was in school just to try it out. I’ve always been a man of experimentation.”
All of his guards choked on their laughs. Was he serious right now?
“But when I met Belina, nothing else mattered but her.” He sounded like he meant it. I’d seen photos of Princess Belina, and I understood the physical appeal. She was beyond gorgeous. But I didn’t know why I hadn’t been expecting him to really love her. “Anyway, do you want in on this bet?”
“What bet?”
Carlo looked amused. “Whether or not this’ll end up in the gossip rags this week.”
My eyes widened. “Is that a real possibility?”
Carlo leaned back and hooked his left foot over his right ankle. “It absolutely is. Everyone signs NDAs around us, but people are clever at getting around them. Everything is a risk.”
“Camillo knows this?”
“Of course he does,” Carlo said, waving me off. “Trust me, this is nothing new for us.”