Page 35 of I'm sorry, Princess

“I don’t know what to say right now,” he admits, his tone measured, calculated. “I need to find out more before jumping to conclusions.”

His gaze locks with mine, steady and deliberate. “I wanted to tell you first. It seemed… important. If it were me, I’d want to know.”

I don’t respond. The silence stretches, thick and heavy.

What the fuck happened? Did my father piss off the Attorney General so badly that he had him killed?

The thought twists in my gut, sharp and sour.

Francesco clears his throat, his usual smooth confidence faltering for just a second. He adjusts his tie, nervous habit, one I’ve clocked a thousand times before, and flips open his laptop, eyes glued to the screen.

“We need to talk about your release.” His voice is steady, professional, but I know him too well to miss the tightness in his jaw. He’s been with me long enough to know this isn’t just business. This is personal.

He scrolls through files, tapping the trackpad with quick, practiced movements. His fingers don’t shake, but I know his mind is racing. He doesn’t like the game I’m playing. Not this time.

“Even though the plan was two weeks…” he begins, eyes flicking up to meet mine, “we technically have enough. The system’s cracked, Lucy is running better than expected. We’ve gathered more intel than we thought we would.” His lips press into a line. “And the feds? They’ve got nothing. No charges that’ll stick.”

He closes the laptop softly, folding his hands in front of him like he’s trying to smooth out the situation.

“I can get you out today.” His words hang heavy in the air. There’s a pause, a small crack in his mask of composure.

“Are you ready to come back?” He tries to sound like this is good news, like I’ve won. But his eyes are sharper than his tone. He knows me. He knows what’s coming.

I lean back in the chair, letting my head tilt just slightly to the side. Relaxed. Dangerous. Like a lion flicking its tail before it pounces.

“No.”

His jaw shifts, but he doesn’t interrupt me.

“You said we needed two weeks to get Lucy fully operational,” I remind him, my voice low, calm, controlled. “That hasn’t changed.”

I stare past him for a moment, and then I see her. Her face flashes in my mind like a cruel trick of fate. Those lips, soft, perfect, fucking sinful. And that attitude, sharp enough to cut, daring enough to make me want to break it just to see what’s underneath.

There’s more to her, I can feel it in my bones. Secrets buried under all that fire, truths that will claw their way out if I push hard enough. But I won’t find them from the outside. Not yet.

No, first I need to pull her closer. To tear at the edges, watch her unravel piece by piece. I need to ruin her, just a little, before I walk away.

“I’m staying,” I continue, my tone final. “Another week. Maybe more.”

Francesco exhales quietly, but he doesn’t argue. That’s why I keep him around, he’s smart. Loyal. Knows when to push, and when to back the fuck off.

“I trust you’ll handle the rest,” I add, voice soft but loaded.

Francesco and Andres exchange glances, their brows furrowing in unison, confusion plain on their faces.

Andres sniffs the air, a grin tugging at his lips. “Are you fucking smoking marijuana?” he asks, laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all day.

I don’t bother answering his last question. Instead, I take a slow drag from my cigarette, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling like I have all the fucking time in the world.

“I still need my three sessions a week with Serena.” Her name rolls off my tongue like silk laced with poison, and the smirk that curls my lips is deliberate. A low chuckle escapes me, quiet but sharp, sarcasm slicing clean through the air.

Francesco raises a brow, but he knows better than to question me. He snaps his laptop shut, his eyes giving nothing away.

“That’s fine,” he says simply, his voice flat. Professional.

Smart man.

I lean back, satisfied, my mind already five steps ahead. I watch Andres move toward the door, but I stop him before he can disappear.