His Forbidden Princess (Dirty Royals Book 3) by Vivian Wood

Author:Vivian Wood [Wood, Vivian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-14T23:00:00+00:00

20

Annika

For a whole day and a whole night, I just sleep.

I’m exhausted from just being myself.

From having so many damn feelings.

From trying to put on my smiling public mask and not let anybody see the cracks that have formed in it.

From being one thing to my adoring fans and another to my mess of a family and still another thing entirely to Erik.

Erik, who rejected me. He did it as soundly as a person can be told that they are not good enough or pretty enough or… well, enough.

I wake up with the realization that I have apparently been quite busy while I was passed out. There is a trashcan beside the couch that I'm sleeping on. It smells like the stench of alcohol and gastric juices. It's a very unique smell, one that makes me gag a little.

Pushing myself up on my arms, I try to breathe in deeply and not throw up the contents of my stomach, which by now are surely just acid and bile.

My head throbs as I look around. I haven't seen this room before. Where am I exactly?

I move to the other end of the couch and stand up shakily, wishing like all hell that I had not done quite so many shots of whiskey the night before. Or the day before…

I squint around the room, but there are no windows. Nothing to tell me if it is night or day. I feel like I’ve been asleep for a while, but I have no idea where or even when I am.

One thing that the room I’m in does boast aside from the couch is a small bathroom. I drag myself into it, peeing and brushing my teeth with a brand new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. I look down to find myself wearing a rolled up old button up and nothing else. I frown at that.

What happened to my dress that I wore earlier? What happened to the heels that I strapped on?

Then I clean myself up, running a damp washcloth over my armpits and privates. It’s not the classiest thing I have ever done, but it’s not the least classy either.

God, my head aches. How did I come to be here?

It’s only then that I think of Erik. I get a flashback of the last time I saw him. In the back of a limo, patiently holding my hair back as I vomited.

Oh, god.

Erik is the last person I want to be vulnerable in front of. And yet, I have a vague memory of him lifting me from the backseat and carrying me into a house.

The sharp scent of saltwater overlays my hazy memory. The tang of saltwater, the cool breeze on my back, light wood a dark room.

A puzzle piece clicks into place. I go to the windows and throw the heavy curtains open, revealing the beach splayed out below me. Crisp, clean, all but virgin sands. In the distance, the blue-black sea spreads out as far as I can see. The waves crash on the beach, hissing as they retreat.

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