1. Paolo

CHAPTER 1

PAOLO

ONE YEAR LATER

“ C an I get you ladies another drink?” I flash them both one of my most charming smiles.

The girls giggle, and one of them covers her mouth with her hand shyly. I’m sure they told me their names, but that was three or four drinks ago now, so I’ve privately nicknamed them Blondie and Sparkles due to their respective hair color and style of dress.

Blondie says something in German that I don’t quite catch, and Sparkles says, “Would you, Paolo? That would be wonderful.”

I grin at them both again. “Your wish is my command.”

The best bit about the year I’ve spent in exile is the way I’ve used it to tour basically all of Europe. Right now, I’m enjoying the wonderful scenery of Bavaria, as well as enjoying the wonderful company of German girls. Not that I’ve ever found it that hard to pick up girls.

After all, I am a prince. That does tend to be a draw.

The worst thing about this first year of exile, though, is that it’s finally forced me to actually think about stuff like my bank account and my living arrangements and what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.

I suppose you could call me immature. I know many newspapers have. But I like to see myself as a free spirit; the kind of guy who rides life’s waves as they come.

Or at least I did — when I had all the money of royalty and the kind of family name that gets you anything you could possibly desire. The disgrace of exile has hit me like a tsunami. And much as I like to pretend that I’m still surfing, there are days when I feel like I’m drowning.

Today is not one of them, though. Today I’m in a lovely Bavarian bar with two beautiful German girls. And I haven’t hit my credit limit yet.

I wave to the bartender and gesture for more drinks. She smiles in acknowledgement, and I throw her a wink. She doesn’t react, which is pretty much what I’m expecting, but it also has the desired effect of making Blondie and Sparkles prickle with jealousy.

I haven’t got intentions towards anyone else tonight, but it’s good to keep people on their toes. After all, I am a prince and I do still have a reputation. Well, kind of, anyway. It’s in tatters back in Bellamare, and I’m sure everyone is cursing my name to heaven.

The news has spread abroad but I’m far less known out here than I am at home. People mostly only care about Miguel and Luca. The third in line is way less interesting than the other two.

The bartender slides three more cocktails over to us, and I grin at her again.

“So, Paolo,” says Blondie, brushing her golden hair behind her ear. “What are your plans tonight?”

“Easy now,” I say, my eyes darting down to her lips. “ This is my plan for the night. I’ve got two gorgeous women in this bar, where the drinks and music are good. I wasn’t planning on doing anything else.”

“Not… anything ?” she says, leaning into me, biting her lower lip just a little.

“Well, that depends what you’ve got in mind,” I say, my voice low. “I have a double king bed back at my hotel room.”

Blondie tucks her hair behind her ear again and slides the tip of her finger between her teeth. Her brilliant blue eyes glitter, even in the low light. She leans in a little closer to me and I mirror her. When I glance down at her body from this angle, very little is left to the imagination underneath her close-fitting dress.

Sparkles places her hand on my shoulder, and I reach up to place my own over it, brushing my fingers over hers. I look back at her with a smile. “There’s plenty of room for two.”

She grins at me with half-lidded eyes, her plush pink lips pursing with desire. They’re both hot. I have scored so lucky today.

It’s going to be a good night.

My phone buzzes on the bar and I glance down at it. It’s a notification from Bellamare’s national news website. I might not live there anymore, but I still have an interest in what’s going on. Despite what my family might want, I’m never going to cut all ties with my country completely.

Bellamare is still my home.

My eyes dart over the headline: King has Died at Ninety-Two. I blink and read it again to make sure that I’m not seeing things. King has Died at Ninety-Two .

My breath catches in my throat. “Excuse me a second, ladies,” I say, blowing them both a kiss despite the cold shiver spreading down my spine. “I’ll be right back.”

I snatch up my phone and hurry for the bathroom with as much dignity as I can muster. I don’t want the girls to leave me, but I need a moment to myself.

I lock myself into a bathroom stall. The music from the bar is still thumping outside, and with shaking hands I grab my phone from my pocket and unlock it to stare at the article, willing it to be untrue.

An official notice from the palace today came with devastating news for the country — King Francesco III was a beloved ruler to the people of Bellamare for forty-five years, and has seen the country through times of change, turbulence, and great joy. The palace have confirmed that he passed away peacefully, after suffering with illness for several years.

A faint nausea rises in my throat as I read the rest of the article. It’s a clinical report of all the major events of his life. It’s like talking about someone distant, unknown.

I knew my grandfather wasn’t in the best of health, so his death isn’t exactly a surprise to me. It’s just the way I’m learning it that’s caught me off guard.

My grandfather has passed away — and not one single person in my family thought to tell me.

My father is now the king — and not one single member of my family thought to tell me.

The words swim before my eyes, and the punishment of my exile stings all over again. Most days I can hide the ache, but this has brought it back with a vengeance. This feels like being kicked in the chest.

I get that I’m exiled, but to not tell me that my own grandfather is dead…

I haven’t wanted to go home this badly since I got kicked out of the country.

I stand in the bathroom for as long as I can before I think it’s probably starting to look weird. Suddenly, I don’t think I’m really in the mood for anything except going back to my room and sleeping off this revelation, but I don’t want to leave the girls hanging.

Maybe if I throw myself into their arms, it might make everything better. At the least, it might help me to forget everything for a while.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to ground myself, and shove my phone back in my pocket. Why did I have to get the news this way? Why couldn’t anyone have just called me? I wouldn’t have expected Miguel or Luca to do it — I’m not exactly close to my brothers. But my father, my mother, or even Maria, one of my attendants…

Anything except finding out this way.

I give myself another minute in the stall, then shake my head and steel myself to face the world.

Tomorrow. I’ll deal with all of this tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to have fun.

I head back out to the bar where the girls are waiting for me, and I ask them if they want to come back to my room. They both act like they’re surprised by the offer, but they both agree. Sparkles wraps her arms around my waist and I lean in to kiss her, but although her body feels incredible and her lips are soft and inviting, it feels hollow.

Even when we get back, I can barely turn off my mind. It’s good to feel like they want me, but I can’t lose myself.

All I can think about is home.