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Cruel Princes
-- EXCERPT: “I don’t care if you’re a Wellington.” Luca shot up from his chair, the metal legs scraping across the tiled floor. “That name means absolutely nothing to me. In this town, Salvatore is the only name that matters.” He pointed at the space in front of him on the floor. “Get over here.” I shook my head. “Dream on.” Luca rounded the table, his nostrils flared. I slid off my chair, but I wasn’t fast enough. He had my long blonde curls fisted in his palm, yanking me up from the chair. “Wanna try that again, Wellington whore?” I elbowed him in the stomach, then stomped on his foot. “I’m not a whore.” Despite my best efforts, his grip on my hair didn’t loosen. He palmed the back of my head until my knees hit the cold, tiled floor. “Kiss my boots like a good little slave.” I looked up at the handsome prince and shook my head. “No. I did nothing wrong.” “You exist,” he shot back with venom in his tone. “That’s enough.” “Why do you hate me so much?” “Ask your grandfather.” He smirked. “See if he’ll tell you the truth about why you’re really here.”
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