Page 43 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“Yes. Rosalyn and Jasmine have stolen my whole life from me, and now they want to steal my future, too. This engagement is mine. You’re mine.”

His blue eyes flash with an emotion I can’t pinpoint. “How bold must one be to sit before the Crown Prince and tell him he belongs to her?”

“Boldness has little to do with the truth,” I reply. “You’ve already agreed that this engagement belongs to me. That means you do, too.”

“Interesting. Does that mean you’re mine, Hattie?”

My nickname—one I haven’t heard since I was a child—rolls off his tongue as smooth as silk, and I wish I could ignore the little fizzle of delight that dances down my spine at the sound.

He really does remember it.

No.

Me.

He remembers me.

“That depends on whether or not you decide to claim me as yours, Your Royal Highness,” I answer, shoving back the way it felt to hear him say my name.

“Ha.” His lips tug into a smirk, and the dark glimmer in his gaze sends a shiver through me. “Is that why you wear that ring?”

I glance at the plain band on my left hand, then bring it up and wiggle my fingers. “What can I say? I’m nothing if not faithful.”

Actually, it just stops people from hitting on me, but that’s not the point.

His laugh is like whiskey, smooth and warming. “So, you want to take back your future by marrying me. Are you aware that Jasmine all but runs the upper-class social circles? She’ll make your life hell.”

I bark out a laugh of my own. “Hell? As if. I’ve lived through Hell, and I’m still standing here. Jasmine wouldn’t know Hell if it dragged her through its seven circles, chewed her up, and spat her back out covered in burns. If anyone will be going through Hell, it’ll be her, and I’ll be her goddamn tour guide.”

He blinks at me. “You really hate her, don’t you?”

“Everything that’s happened in my life is because of her and Rosalyn. From my disappearance to my mother’s death, to even me living a lie these past two years—it’s all on them. It’s about time they paid for their sins, and I intend to charge them interest.”

“Starting with marrying me?”

“Starting with marrying you.” I eye him. “Jasmine wants nothing more than to marry you and be Crown Princess, and I want nothing more than to turn that dream into her worst nightmare.”

“Then what?” he asks. “What do you do after that? You marry me, shatter her dreams, and then… we live happily ever after?”

“I rip apart everything they have with my own two hands,” I say, my voice ice-cold. “I intend to dismantle every brick in that mansion, collapse every office in the business, and uncover every single dirty little secret hiding underneath the floorboards. I want to ruin them. I want to make them sink so low they can never claw their way back up.”

“And presumably, the seat of Crown Princess will make that easier for you.”

“I’ll do it regardless of if we get married. Your decision only determines whether you’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

“You really are bold. Some may even say stupid.”

“Those people haven’t been through what I have,” I counter. “Which is just as well, because they might not have survived it.”

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze firmly focused on me. “What have you been through?”

I smile. “Pray you never find out, Your Royal Highness. I’d hate to hurt your delicate sensibilities.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Delicate sensibilities? Whose? I don’t have such a thing.”

“Really? You’re sitting here staring at me as if you’ve never seen a woman hell-bent on revenge before.”

“Oh, I’ve seen such a thing…” He frowns. “But it’s usually scratching a cheating ex’s car, ruining a business deal, stealing family heirlooms, that kind of minor thing. Not imploding someone’s entire life.”