Page 7 of Ruthless Prince

Of course, he neverdid.

I was so naïve—and possibly a little addle-brained from the awful case of mono I developed not long after the dance—that it took several months of silence to make me realize I’d been played. Logan must’ve hoped that his ‘romantic’ act of refusing to do anything beyond kissing would entice me to beg him for more; a sort of reverse psychology trick. That way he could take my virginity without feeling like he owed me anything. However, when things didn’t go the way he hoped, he lostinterest.

I knew he’d done similar things to other young women in the past. I’d heard rumors. I just didn’t think it would happen to me. His words seemed so genuine, his promises sosincere.

For weeks after the stinging realization that I’d been ghosted, I clung to the silly hope that maybe he wasn’t actually an asshole after all. Chloe was involved in a horrendous car accident the night after the dance, leaving her permanently disabled from severe head injuries, and I knew Logan had to be hurting over that and probably wanted to be left alone for a while. When a full six months passed with no word, however, I finally got thehint.

He didn’t wantme.

In the years since then, he’d turned into a total prick. Whenever we bumped into each other at social functions, he either shot me nasty looks or flat-out ignored me. I had no idea why. Perhaps he felt rejected when I didn’t beg to sleep with him all those years ago, or perhaps our so-called family rivalry had gone to his head. Who knew what went on in the twisted mind of Washington’s biggestplayboy?

“No idea,” I said to Rowan, not wanting to open that can of worms. “He’s just anass.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded slowly and took a small sip of his drink. “How are you doing, anyway? With all of this?” He gestured around the room with his freehand.

I smiled faintly. “It’s not too bad. Being followed everywhere by the Secret Service is annoying as hell, but I was already pretty used to that from when Mom wasVP.”

“But you’re doing okay ingeneral?”

I kept the smile pasted on. “Yes. I’mfine.”

I didn’t want to burden him with the truth, which was that most days, I felt like I was about to explode from sheeranxiety.

After my mother was sworn in as president, I started receiving all sorts of abuse, most likely from people who didn’t support her agenda and saw me as an easy target. I frequently received nasty text messages from unknown numbers and menacing emails from addresses which ceased to exist as soon as the messages were delivered to me, and I’d even received a few paper letters with terrifying threats scribbled inthem.

The worst part was that no one seemed to believe me when I tried to report it. I’d heard whispers of how I was an attention seeker who couldn’t stand to see my mother receiving so much praise and glory, and I’d even overheard one White House aide implying that I’d orchestrated the creepy messages myself. On top of that, I’d also heard a few of them insinuating that I might be losing my marbles from the stress of being in the publiceye.

“That’s good,” Rowan said, awkwardly patting me on the shoulder. “I’ve beenworried.”

I swallowed hard. “Why?”

He leaned his face closer to mine. “Do you remember when I told you about the shadowgovernment?”

This change of topic meant he was about to get started on one of his wild conspiracy theories. “You mean the whole Deep State thing?” I said. “I think I remember you mentioning it once ortwice.”

“Look, I know you probably think it’s all crazy bullshit, but I honestly think it’s real. I’ve seen stuff. Convincingstuff.”

“Likewhat?”

He sighed and rubbed an eyebrow. “I can’t say. But I think there’s some sort of secret society operating inD.C.”

I smiled. “That sounds very cloak-and-dagger. Do they have a secret handshake and carry out ancient rituals in darkgrottoes?”

“Willow, I’mserious.”

My grin faded. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you werekidding.”

“No. I really think they exist, and I think they control everything that happens in this country,” he said in an insistent tone. “I want you to becareful.”

“Why?”

“As the president’s daughter, you could be in their sights, and I wouldn’t want to see you gethurt.”

“Well, I’ll try to keep away from them.” I arched my eyebrows and smiled again, trying to lighten the mood. “Anyway, do you think this evil cabal might be operating out of the White Housetunnels?”

Rowan’s demeanor instantly changed, and he chuckled. “There’s no tunnel system under the White House or any other government building, unless you count the basement floors or that tiny evacuation tunnel. All that other stuff is just an urban myth.” He playfully jostled my shoulder. “Who’s the nutty conspiracy theorist now,huh?”

I smiled back at him, wondering if I should tell him the truth. Thereweresecret tunnels running beneath the lowest White House basement level and every other government building in Washington. I knew this for a fact, because I’d been inside thembefore.