My Dark Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Prince Road)

Don’t throw up.

He is not worth your lunch.

You had a vegan crab cake. It was delicious. And expensive. Keep it down.

It was near impossible, though, seeing as Oliver von Bismarck stared right back at me, with the same level of surprise I surely wore on my own face.

The world went black, and my knees buckled. Gravity pulled from under my feet like a rug. I stumbled backwards, reaching for a candelabra for balance.

Never in my life had I pricked my finger before. My seamstress skills were unmatched. But seconds before he entered the room, I could feel his presence. The suffocating calamity that buzzed in the air.

I wasn’t dumb. I knew he owned this hotel the minute the producer of Law Lives had informed me of our film schedule. But years of stalking this man had reassured me that Oliver shared no involvement in his family business. Apparently, my first – and only – love had become a fuck up of gigantic proportions. A hedonistic man-child who only cared about partying, vacationing, and corrupting young women. I’d paid close attention to his antics over the last decade. The arrests, the debauchery, the alcohol, the conquests.

And still, my heart wrung tight like a washcloth when our eyes met. Because I could still see him behind those pale pupils.

The boy I rolled down hills with, until we were covered in grass, manure, and sweat, laughing our asses off.

My throat clogged up with all the things I’d wanted to say to him for fifteen years.

Where were you and where were you and where were you?

Once upon a time, he promised me forever. Our forever turned into never. And never was an awfully long time to fester in the newfound hate I felt for this man.

“Well, I never.” Oliver recovered first, plastering a coaxing smirk onto his lips. “Hello, Cuddlebug.”

In this small, insignificant nickname, he shattered the rest of my composure. I let go of the candelabra and slacked against the wall. The needle I held fell to the floor.

Oliver gestured to the skin-colored thong in my fist. “Is this for me?”

I felt like a gutted fish. How could he be so calm? So thoroughly entertained?

Through the anger, the pain, the frustration, I gulped him up. The sleepy, lust-drunk cobalt eyes, still heavily lashed. The petulant, childish pout that begged to be kissed and the high Roman nose. All these years later, his rugged, imposingly tall frame still had the same effect on me.

I didn’t know what was more devastating – how gorgeous he was or how pathetic I was, unable to produce a sound.

“Are you okay?” Frankie placed a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I know he has a reputation for being a brothel on legs, but I promise he is mostly harmless.” My surprise assistant’s voice echoed along my spine.

Say something. Do something. Show him that you are not the same desperate girl. The one who realized too late that nobody would come to save her, and she had to get up and save herself.

Ollie’s falcon gaze did not withdraw from mine. “We know each other.”

Frankie glanced between us. “Like, biblically?”

Neither of us answered her.noveldrama

The assistant producer jogged over to me. “Hey, Briar? We need to wrap this scene up.” Jaylla yanked the thong from my clenched fist. “Is the thong ready? Scarlett is cold.”

Scarlett. Of course. Scarlett. My actress. The woman currently in a robe, waiting for me so she could complete the sex scene. Come to think of it, Oliver had no clearance to be here. He was another stranger gawking at my client.

“Y – yes.” I turned to Jaylla, mustering a smile. “All good to go. I’ll be there in a second.” I swiveled back to Oliver, finding my voice. Razor sharp. Just like he deserved. “Sir, we do not know each other. You can’t be here right now.”

The words caught Oliver off guard. His smile melted into a surprised gape. “It’s my hotel.”

“It’s my set,” I countered, reaching for a bottle of water and taking a big swig. “And I’ve heard all about your antics, Mr. von Bismarck. I have my clients to think of, and your presence in this room with naked actors is unwelcome.”

“My presence in this roo …” He glared, his mouth dropping open. “Are you really going to pretend we don’t know each other?” His entire face pruned into a scowl.

I blinked, regaining my hard-earned confidence. “I think you have me mixed up with someone else. Not too surprising, considering the number of women you go through.”

Frankie coughed into her fist. “Burn.”

Oliver couldn’t pry his eyes off me. “And you know this because …?” A slow, confident smile began to eclipse his face, showering me with nostalgia.

“I am literate and have internet access. It would be negligent of me not to identify all the potential threats in the vicinity.” I raised an eyebrow. “Now … can you, please, leave? Having a stranger on the set is not good for my naked actors’ psyches.”

It was critical to put space between us. Ideally, three continents and four oceans.

“You can’t kick me out of my own property.”

“Sure can, if you leased it to us.” I grabbed the lapels of his shirt and led him out the doors. “We’re paying customers, and we hired out this entire floor. You are unauthorized to enter the premises during a sex scene.”

Frankie gasped as Oliver stumbled backwards, staring at me like I was a rabid animal.

“Thanks, Briar!” Scarlett squeaked from the master bed at the end of the room. “For having my back.”

“I have to say, this is my first time being escorted out of a sex scene instead of being invited.” Oliver nestled a hand against his heart, feigning devastation. “Have I lost my charm?”

“Ask someone who fell for it,” I lied.

Alone, in the hallway, I pushed him toward the elevators, ignoring the way he stared at me like he’d discovered a new dragon species.

He popped up a brow, not quite fighting my manhandling but not making it easy on me either. “Are you going to drop the charade, now that we’re alone?”

“Nobody is dropping anything in this exchange, Mr. von Bismarck. Your reputation precedes you.”

He shot me a playful wink, grinning. “Your anger sets fire to my loins.”

“That burn is an infection, sweetie. Get it checked.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Briar Rose.”

“Ah, he’s a gaslighter, too.” I pushed him harder. “How did I miss all the red flags? You’re a freaking carnival.”

“Well, you’re always invited for a fun ride.”

“I swear to God, if you make a tent joke, I will have to stab you. And no jury is going to fault me for it, considering our history.”

That made him bark out a laugh. “I’ve missed you, Cuddlebug.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, I’m not very cuddly anymore.”

“Stabbybug?” His eyes lit up as he stumbled backwards. “I can get behind that.”

We reached the elevators, and I punched the button one or five hundred times. I wasn’t going to rest until he was out of this floor – and my life.

I’d managed to piece myself together after his betrayal, but it had taken me years. Years of crying myself to sleep every night, of wondering why, and how, and when it all went so terribly wrong. I was finally in a better place. And that place was wherever Oliver von Bismarck wasn’t present.

“Hey, wait!” Frankie burst out of the presidential suite, jogging after us in her ridiculous heels. “You forgot me.”

I wondered if they were lovers. The thought filled my heart with smothering pain.

“Alright, let’s cut the bullshit.” Oliver ignored her, every fiber of his body attuned to mine. “We need to talk.”

“We do not.” I folded my arms tightly. “We have managed not to do so for fifteen years. Why break a perfect record?”

“I have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Do you?” I swallowed the yelp wedged in my throat. “For all intents and purposes, we’re strangers.”

“You will never be a stranger to me.”

“Funny you should say that, because after how you left things off, I realized you were a stranger all along.”

The numbers on the digital screen above the elevator doors began ascending. Finally.

“So, you do know each other?” Frankie lodged herself between us, yanking off her heels and stuffing them in her purse. She was a very beautiful girl. Emphasis on the word girl. “It’s been seven minutes since you’ve met, and Oliver still hasn’t said something obnoxious to make you slap his face. It’s almost like he is trying not to be himself.”

“If getting slapped around is what he wants, I’d be happy to accommodate his wishes.”

Oliver readjusted the fraternity ring on his pinky. The one I’d given him as kids. He still had that old thing? Why?

You don’t care why. He turned his back on you when you needed him the most.

“We need to talk,” Oliver insisted. “Briar Rose, I—”

“It’s just Briar now.” I smiled sweetly. “Got rid of the Rose. Including the stupid dyed ones you gave me every year.”

“Briar.” He tasted the new name on his tongue, his cheekbones tinting pink. “When do you finish work? I—”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I took the opportunity to push him inside, shoving along his little firecracker friend and stabbing the close button. “Goodbye, Oliver. Have a nice life.”

Or don’t.

I really couldn’t care any less.

The second the elevator grunted with its descent, the air lightened. I turned around, pressed my back to the wall, and closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It was a fight to stay upright. One that I eventually lost. I slid down to the lush carpet, clutching my head and attempting practiced deep breaths.

Years of therapy down the drain in one simple glance into his eyes.

He’d kept the ten-dollar ring I’d gifted him. My sole possession as a child. Something I’d won at a carnival.

I stared my past right in the eye, and it reminded me of everything I’d lost.

My entire world.