Page 83 of Wicked Princess (Knight's Ridge Empire 2)

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Seb

Isense the second Stella hears the alarm and wakes up because her entire body tenses.

And I know why.

She knows exactly what that alarm means.

Everything is about to change. Again.

Dropping my lips to the top of her head, I breathe her in.

She’s not the only one feeling a little anxious over what’s to come.

“Come on, baby. We’ve got a flight to catch,” I say, swallowing my unease and dragging my usual mask on.

“Great,” she mutters, rolling away from me and sitting on the side of the bed, her shoulders stooped in defeat.

“Not scared, are you?”

Her spine instantly straightens at my question.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes lock on mine, making my heart pick up pace in my chest.

“Scared? No, Seb. I’m not scared. I just… this is my home.”

“No,” I say, reaching for her. “Your home is in London. With me.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, ripping her eyes from mine. She pushes from the bed and marches toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

My brow creases at her move. I know she’s nervous about going back, even if she won’t admit it. Why wouldn’t she be? Someone in London quite clearly wants to hurt her. I might have got to her in time after his first attempt, but what comes next? What if I—or anyone—doesn’t get there? Then what?

Pain like I’ve never experienced before rips through my chest at the thought of losing her.

No.

It’s not going to happen.

We’re going to go back, and together we can lure this motherfucker out and end it.

No one is taking her from me, not now. Not after everything it’s taken to get here.

The shower turns on, and I’m powerless but to climb from the bed and go to her.

By the time I slip into the bathroom, she’s standing under the waterfall with her head tipped back, the water cascading down her mouthwatering body, over her healing scar.

My fists curl as I stare at it, knowing that some sick cunt pushed her own knife into her flawless skin.

I should be the only one who has the power to hurt her, to leave my mark on her body.

She shrieks when I step in front of her, collaring her throat and pushing her back against the tiles.

I stare down into her eyes as her chest begins to heave, hoping she can read everything she won’t want to hear right now in my eyes.

“Seb?” she whispers when I don’t move.

Grabbing the backs of her thighs, I lift her up the wall, wrapping her legs around my waist as my cock brushes her pussy.