Corrupt Prince: a Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance (Dark Throne Book 3) by Ivy Mason

Author:Ivy Mason [Mason, Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beast Press
Published: 2021-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

Twelve

It took me forever to fall asleep, my anger was so intense. I tossed and turned all night, filled with nightmares of drowning in the ocean. I was restless until I felt strong arms around me, a low, calming voice lulling me back to a dreamless sleep.

When I awoke, the bed next to me was empty, and I wondered if I'd dreamed about the mysterious prince of hell who soothed nightmare maidens back to sleep.

I spent the whole day by myself, not even bothering to try to get out of the room or contact him. If I was going to help him, he knew how to find me. Marisol brought me my food, as usual, but this time she stayed longer to talk to me.

By the middle of the day, I was growing restless, and spent several minutes staring outside of the window at the pool.

The view from Coulter's room was higher up than my first one, and had a much better view of the sparkling water. But what I really wanted was to get my hands on that garden.

I itched with need and decided, screw it. Humming a Britney Spears song, I bustled around the room, gathering what I needed to make my escape. Even if I didn’t make it far, at least I’d get some exercise in. And the garden was just too inviting.

Just as I'd started tying bedsheets together, the door unlocked then slammed back against the wall.

I didn’t need to look up to know it was the bastard himself, Coulter.

I ignored him, continuing to tie two sheets together, singing out the words to Womanizer as loud as possible because well, it was fucking appropriate.

As soon as I paused to suck in a deep breath, I heard him grunt, "What in the hell are you doing?"

“Singing, duh.” I answered, before belting out the lyrics as I worked on my homemade rope. The sheets weren't long enough but no matter, I had a shit ton of his button up shirts lying in a pile next to me.

After a minute, just as I was finishing up the song, he came to loom over me, a scowl on his face. “Obviously you know how to butcher an old—“

“And fitting,” I interrupted.

“--song, but I’m talking about this.” He pointed at the sheets.

“It’s my new craft project.” Grinning, I held it up for him to see, then fake pouted as his frown deepened. “You don’t like it?”

“What’s it for, Aster?” he grated out, his jaw flexing harshly.

I shrugged. “I need sun and air. If you’re not going to give it to me, I'll find a way to get it myself."

He leaned over, picking up one of his shirts with a disbelief on his face. My fingers worked faster, double tying the material to make a bigger knot. I needed them big enough to use as little ledges to help me climb down.

"You really think that's going to work?"

I smiled to myself. Boys really needed to stop underestimating me. "Yep."

He had no idea

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