More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It’s the equivalent of making a deal on a napkin. Maybe it won’t hold up in a court of law, but it sure as hell will out on the streets.
She went from the top of the Royal game to… this. It’s just really sad, isn’t it? How this machine can just chew you up and spit you out?”
Jesus, sometimes it’s absurdly obvious that we’re not just Royals, but royally fucked.
“Unlike the rest of you, we’re servants of Forsyth—of life and death. Not ourselves.” “That’s horseshit,” I argue, sneering at the display. “Every Royal house serves itself.”
“Then let me speak this language you know so well. My son—my real son—sees this girl,” he nods toward where Verity is peeking over my shoulder, “as a sister. Harming her and her baby would be unforgivable in his eyes. That trumps your flimsy motive.”
“A Baron always honors a promise made in blood.”
“Take me with you instead, Red. I’ll feed you burritos. I even promise not to complain about sleeping on what I assume is a dirty mattress from some warehouse alley.” “Thinly veiled insults about my family will get you nowhere.”
“Chill, Red. No one here doubts your commitment to Sparkle Motion. But let's stop bullshitting ourselves. Our focus has been divided.”
“You’re not safe anywhere!” he snaps. “And if that hasn’t sunk in yet, then the last place I want you and our kid is somewhere I can’t protect you. Someone has to think of him.” “I am thinking of him!”
“This is the deal we made that day in the solarium. You get to do anything you want, and we get to deal with the consequences.” He makes a snide, mocking bow. “May she reign.”
Everyone talks about the pregnancy glow, but no one talks about the persistent acne.
TRUTH
Maybe Pace hurt me, but he did it with the truth.
Nowhere is safe for me. Which means nowhere is safe for us.
But he treats me like spun glass. Or rather, he treats the baby like spun glass.
Distracted by his—Jesus, everything—toothpaste slides down the back of my throat, and I gag.
I can attest that brushing your teeth while pregnant IS THE WORST
“I know we have this little truce, and you think it’s fun that we’re all playing nice, but you don’t belong to them, Verity. And when a woman wears a man’s shirt, with his name on it, there’s an implication.”
“This isn’t a joke. Who you belong to in this town means something.” It isn’t until I see the tendon straining angrily in his neck that I swallow down my amusement. I lift my shirt, revealing the ever-growing swell of my belly. “I think this is a bigger implication of who I belong to. One I can’t take off.”
Goodness gracious. Jealousy looks good on Lex Ashby.
“You shouldn’t provoke him. He’s having a hard enough time already.” “A hard time doing what?” I ask, remembering the searing bitterness in Pace’s eyes when he bowed to me. May she reign. “Letting me make my own decisions? Trying not to own me? Not lashing out when he doesn’t get his way?” Lex slides his gaze to mine. “Not coming in here and taking you back to his cell.”
I’m not sure I can sleep alone anymore.
He stares up at me, giving a slow, heavy blink, like he’s surprised I’d do something so odd as to take care of him.
this all I am to you?” I wonder, cradling the swell of my belly. The question isn’t made bitterly. I never know where I stand with these men. “Am I just a… responsibility?” His jaw hardens when he glances at me. “Trust me, Princess. Things would be a lot easier for both of us if you were.”
Ashby’s damage runs deep. He broke his sons in ways they’ll never comprehend. Not just with whips and punishments, but the places inside. Places I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reach.
But West End doesn’t know me. Not anymore.
“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me,” I tell him, knitting my fingers into his silky-soft hair. “Because I’m yours, aren’t I?”
“There,” he says smugly, dipping down to brush his lips against my cheek. “My woman. My baby. My name.”
He’d just marked me for everyone to see.
“And for what it’s worth, you make that hideous shirt look gorgeous.” The low, silky whisper immediately brings a flush to my face. “You’re obligated to say that as one of the fathers of my baby,” I say, aware of Lavinia w...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
“He adores you. And the baby. It’s so cute, I could literally barf.” “He’s a Prince,” I remind her, feeling my cheeks heat. “He’s programmed for fatherhood.” “Maybe, but that look? All the sweet things?” She blinks. “He loves you.”
“He left marks they’ll carry for the rest of their lives.
“Wouldn’t you rather have… er, created… out of love rather than some Royal strategy bullshit?”
If Wicker is good for anything, it’s driving me to distraction.
“Now that one,” Lav says, tossing a shirt in the medium pile, “the way he looks at you?” “What about it?” “I’ve seen that before too.” She turns to watch Wicker approach Lex in the middle of the room. “He’s not ready yet, but when he finally is…” She trails off, but honestly, I’m dying to know. “What? What happens?” “It’s going to feel like falling off a cliff.”
“I didn’t want to create a life out of emptiness. A life like mine.”
“But what is a soul? Does it even exist? Is it just a pretty name we give to the concept of sentience, or is it something that transcends science?
And if it is, are we imbued with one at birth, or is a soul something we build ourselves? Can we inherit a soul? And if we can, does that mean we can also inherit the absence of one?”
What if we bring this child into the world and I can never look into his eyes and see anything but pain?”
“Earlier, you said… you said you were sorry for what you did to me.” Green eyes blaze into mine. “You’re sorry because you’re not empty, Lex. You have a soul. And… and one day, I’ll be able to forgive you for what happened that night, because deep down, I don’t really believe it was you.” Her face hardens as she strains closer. “But if you let Nick die on that floor without even trying, then I’ll be the one who’ll never forgive it. And then maybe you’ll prove yourself right because no one with a soul could do that.”
There was a time when I wanted to be a surgeon so I could heal people. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt it, though.
I want to save his life because I want to prove I can.
“The mayor of Forsyth is Kenneth Strong. Thumb up or down.” Slowly, Bruin lifts the hand Lavinia isn’t clutching like a lifeline, twitching his thumb up. I glance at it before asking, “You suck at finding cover from active gunfire.” Nick raises a finger, but it’s not his thumb.
“Because she’s our family, and you’re her family.” He dips his chin in a grim nod. “Family is the only thing we trust.”
“You’re a good man, Lex, despite the blood that runs through your veins.” My eyes flutter at the feel of her fingertips against my face. “You don’t know that.” When I blink them open, she’s watching me unflinchingly. “I do, because the blood that runs through my veins belongs to that madman. If you’re lost, then so am I.” She touches my lips. “So are Wicker and Pace. And this baby? He’s ruined before he takes his first breath.”
“It means I’ll always protect you and our child. I’ll take care of your family, East and West.” I swallow the emotions close to the surface. “Just promise me that you’ll always be here. That you won’t get taken away, severed, like a…”
“Never,” I tell her, realizing that I mean it. I am never letting this woman go.
The quiet—the stillness—allows the demons too close to the surface.
“The only reason I never wanted to be a father is that I didn’t want to be anything like you,”
every move I make feels wrong, like I should be doing something else. Something important. Something… useful. Gross.
This is just so Wicker
I catch her hips, surging into the warmth of her lips and tongue like a starving man. Maybe this was that thing I’ve been scratching so desperately to find
“Your mom made me banana pudding?” Surprising, considering Mama B has had nothing but spite for me since the first day I met her. It’s probably poisoned. Eh. I’d still eat it.
