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Bad Prince

Page 300

by J.T. Hardt

And that—that almost throws me.

“I’m trying to win.”

And there it is.

Clean.

Honest.

No mask.

Something inside me settles.

Locks into place.

I step forward.

Just enough to close the distance.

“So am I.”

Her eyes flash.

She studies me—really studies me—like she’s recalculating something.

Then…

a slow nod.

“Good,” she says quietly.

Almost approving.

“Because I don’t want to win easily.”

A breath slips out of me.

Not shaky.

Not unsure.

Steady.

“Wouldn’t be worth it.”

Her lips curve again.

This time just enough to show teeth.

“May the best woman win.”

I hold her gaze.

Don’t blink.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Let’s find out.”