Page 58 of Royal Desire

It doesn’t matter the hour. Eli proves he’s never off the clock.

Eli – I’ll tell him. Why do I not like the sound of that?

Me – I’ll hit you up in the morning. But that thing you asked me about earlier? Yeah. I’m all in.

Bubbles dance across my screen. They stop. They start again.

Eli – Fuck.

Ruby

Opening my eyes isn’t easy when my go-to waterproof mascara glues my lashes together after a night of tears and restless sleep.

Though maybe it wasn’t as restless as I thought. I’m sprawled on the plush sofa, and even after sleeping in my makeup, the pillow stuffed under my head feels like a cloud. And I’m covered with a blanket that’s so warm and soft, I’m willing to sing for free if Devon will give me one or three. Grandma would go apeshit over this blanket.

As swanky as my surroundings are, there’s a jackhammer banging around my head. I blame the tequila.

I drama-vomited my entire life’s hell to the man I tried to avoid like the plague for the last twelve years while sipping tequila. It doesn’t matter how many questionable life choices I make on the regular, I knew I had to stop drinking.

Based on the pounding headache, it seems I should’ve sipped water. I told him everything I’ve been through over the last few months.

A bar owner in the city was found dead. And since I was the last person known to be there, all evidence points to me. Surveillance footage from the bar, my cell records, the damn location on my cell phone... I could go on.

And on.

And on.

And fucking on.

The last time I saw Enzo, he and a detective showed up at my apartment. That’s when I realized my gut feeling about Enzo Caruso was right, though it wasn’t nearly drastic enough. The detective presented me with gruesome photographs of the murder scene, then photos and videos of me leaving the bar.

I was there for an audition. I’d never met or seen the man before that day. I sang three songs, thanked him for his time, and left him very much living and breathing. Hell, I could go so far as to say he was thriving. I had no reason to wish him dead, and trust me, there are people in my life who I have wished dead.

Figuratively, not literally. I may be a spirited woman who acts too quickly on instinct, but I have never actually murdered anyone, no matter how much they might have deserved it.

The detective told me he could make the whole thing go away, and I would avoid prison as long as I cooperated with Enzo.

Basically, my choice was a different kind of prison. I could become Mrs. Enzo Caruso and give him a bevy of offspring to carry on the Caruso name, so his life of crime will carry on for another generation, or real prison. And since no one knows me better than me, I know I’m not cut out for either.

I wasn’t proud of any of it as every detail fell from my drunken lips. Payne took it all in, only replying with the random fuck, fuck me, fucking asshole, and my personal favorite, fucking Mafia douchebag. I concurred with every assessment.

Then I fell to my side when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and declared the sofa mine for the rest of time.

I don’t remember Payne giving me the pillow of my dreams or covering me with a blanket spun by angels.

When I rub my eyes open, the penthouse suite is flooded with sunlight. It’s even more beautiful than it was last night. It’s also silent.

I glance at the coffee table. My cell sits next to a tented note with handwriting so familiar, my insides twist when I see it.

I reach over and grab both, wincing as the pounding inside my skull intensifies with every move. Instead of my name scribed on the front of The Manor at Winslet official stationery, it has direct and bossy orders—DO NOT LEAVE.

I’d roll my eyes if my head didn’t hurt so much.

I flip it open and try not to think of the hundreds of notes I still have stored away in the top of my closet at Grandma’s house with this same handwriting.

Rambling Ruby,

I called Blake to bring you a change of clothes to save you from a walk of shame through the manor. Take the painkillers I left you, order room service, and take a shower. I have presentations all morning for my clients.