“Tonight, you will dine with me,” Bellamy stated, not a single emotion written on his face. “And if I refuse?” I asked, gaining my confidence back the closer I got to the door again. “You won’t.” He started to leave and I wondered if I would regret if I agreed to this meal. “And don’t make a habit of coming up here. I won’t have my wife recklessly killed from falling,” the prince said almost possessively. Why did he care what happened to me?
