Page 201 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

Livia wasn’t sure if this was a denial or just a dismissal.

“Then tell me why you think it’s okay to destroy my life when you hate your father for doing the same thing to you,” she demanded.

“There is no other way,” he roared. “I will not rationalize wasting the country’s money on lavish parties or on remodeling a wing of the castle, all on the flimsy grounds of entertaining foreign dignitaries.”

“But how do you know that whatever you have planned isn’t going to throw the country from the proverbial frying pan into the fire?”

“It’s not,” he said, and his voice was hard and flat. “Again, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Basically, your answer is ‘Because I said so’? Because the prince has spoken and that makes it true?”

He scowled, but he didn’t deny it. But the longer the silence hung between then, the more she felt his anger shift to brooding. He looked so much more like the boy she knew in the forest all those years ago, someone who worried about how his actions would affect others. He never would have been so arrogant as to think that his vengeance trumped everything—and everyone. Teenage Gustav had been capable of compassion. Had he lost that part of himself in the power struggle that he had been made a part of?

Her breath caught in her chest, and she felt a kernel of a connection that went beyond lust. She was approaching this completely wrong. She needed to find the part of him that was still able to listen. It was something she could turn into a path forward.

“Don’t you see how this vengeance will only hurt you in the end?” she pleaded. “The bitterness and anger will hollow you out. I watched it happen to my father, and I don’t…”

She couldn’t handle watching it happen to Gustav. There was a lump forming in the back of her throat, but she steeled herself against the feelings that were rising up inside her. Not now. She had to focus on getting them all out of this mess—Adele, her and Gustav.

Livia searched inside herself for the empathy that she had felt for the seventeen-year-old boy in the woods, back when she still thought he was looking for a way out of a life based on prestige. When she’d thought he wanted to find something real. That boy she could reach back then. The problem was that he could reach her, too. Still, it was the only thing she had.

“When I heard about your expulsion from school, I tried to find you.”

He stilled. “My father made sure I was far from the public eye. He had someone delete my phone number, my social media. Everything.”

“I should not have cut you off like that,” she said, trying not to let the guilt take over. “I wanted to explain. To…apologize.”

Her voice wavered. She hadn’t made his choices, she reminded herself. Still, she could have handled it a lot better.

“And why would that matter after all these years? We both know how it ended,” he said, and the coldness of his voice made her shiver.

She forced herself to push that warning away.

“I think you’re punishing me for the way I handled the end of our relationship and for my involvement with your brother.” She flushed at the reference to Edvin. “If I am to be punished, shouldn’t I be allowed to at least present my case?”

The boat engine hummed, narrowing their world. No one else was in sight, and it felt like just the two of them sitting below the puffy clouds with the gentle waves of the sea spreading out on all sides. It would have been the perfect day if Gustav wasn’t toying with her life.

He was quiet, so she added, “Would it hurt to wait a little longer before you drop the final bomb?”

He didn’t answer right away, and her heart leaped in her chest. Maybe she could buy time to come up with a new plan. She shifted, trying to ignore how close he was, how distracting his scent was. It would be so easy to just give in to what her body was begging for.

“And what do I get in return for granting your wish?” he asked.

“What do you want?”

His eyes raked down her body, telling her exactly what he wanted. A shiver of dark pleasure rushed through her, so different from the dreamy, innocent desire she’d experienced as a teenager. This was something different, something new and darker.

“The pleasure of the company of my wife is its own reward, of course,” he said with a knowing smile, and her cheeks flushed from something she chose to call embarrassment. “I would enjoy the pleasure of listening to your case as you lay next to me in our marriage bed.”

His voice had a hint of mockery in it; she could hear both the temptation and the danger in it.

“It sounds like you are picturing more than a story.”

“I don’t need to take, Livia. You know that.” His laugh was rich and dark.

No, he would not take from her anything she was not willing to give. And yet the danger was in how much she would be willing to give this man. A gust of wind blew across her body, and the material of her dress scraped over her skin in a sensual caress.

She swallowed. “Fine. I will tell you the story in bed.”