Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“How did you see it?” I slowly walk toward him. Nicklas was away at Christmas, and the next morning Aurora had stashed it safely in her room.
“It was in her room,” he says simply.
My breath halts. “And why were you in her room?”
He smirks. “I just was.”
I explode. In a flash I’m at his throat, shoving him back into the wall, hard enough to shake the paintings. “Why the fuck were you in her room?” I growl, my forearm pressed against his windpipe.
He gives me no reaction, even as I’m cutting off his air. In fact, I think he might like this. Like the fact that I’m losing my temper over her.
And just like that, I realize that I’ve betrayed myself. He tricked me into reacting, and for a moment everything I tried so hard to restrain came loose.
I immediately step back and away from him, and he drops to the floor, bent over, holding his throat.
“You know that’s her room and it’s private,” I snap at him. “You have no right to be in there just as she has no right to do the same to you.” For fuck’s sake. Why was he in there? The one time I went in there and Aurora knew, she was hurt and disgusted at the invasion of privacy. Now I’m disgusted on her behalf, especially as I know what a snake Nicklas is.
“Lesson learned,” he says, coughing as he straightens up. “I was merely looking for her, that’s all. Her door was open. I spotted it.” His eyes narrow thoughtfully. “I think you may have overreacted there.”
I don’t say anything to that. There’s nothing else to say. It takes everything I have not to spit in his face. Some days I can go on pretending that Nicklas is someone else. Other days it’s a stark reminder of what happened.
It’s torture, is what it is.
And he wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think I deserved it.
The irony is, if he wasn’t here, well, things would be a whole lot worse.
I can’t fire him and he knows it.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” I tell him, walking away. “Stay away from all of my staff.”
I go down the stairs, leaving him on the upper floor. My head is pounding with rage, my heart racing in sharp thumps against my chest. I’m in a rotten, foul mood now, which is probably not the best time to pay my ailing mother a visit, but I can’t stay here either.
I slip on my winter coat and head into the backyard where the girls are making snowmen with Maja and Aurora. There’s even a little snow pig, which normally would warm my heart but now there’s nothing but shards of glass inside it.
“Hej Papa!” Clara says, waving at me beside the snow pig. “Come see our Sner Sner!”
I nod. “Very nice.”
“You could also say, very ice,” Freja speaks up, proud of herself for that pun.
I glance at Aurora, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold, contrasting with her pale skin. She looks like a snow goddess. “Aurora, come with me.” I look to Maja. “Can you watch the girls for a few hours?”
“Of course,” Maja says, looking at me oddly.
Aurora looks to Maja in surprise who merely shrugs and gives her the nod to follow me.
We head toward the side gate that leads to the parking area.
“What’s going on?” she asks, following me through the gate.
“We’re getting out of here.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” I wave at Johan who pulls the car over to us.
“Do I need anything?” She looks down at her puffy coat. “I don’t have my phone or purse.”
“You have me, you don’t need anything else.”
I motion for Johan to stay in the car, then I open the back door for her, gesturing for her to get in.
I can tell she’s confused by this all, but honestly, so am I.
“Where to, sir?” Johan asks.
“I don’t know. Just drive somewhere. Outside of the city.”
Johan nods, frowning at me in the rearview mirror. “Should I get a guard for you?”
I shake my head. “We won’t go where there’s people. Just drive.”
I sit back in my seat and I don’t let out a sigh of relief until we’re pulling out of the palace.
Meanwhile, Aurora is staring at me, worried. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “Don’t ask any more questions.”
“So you’re being mysterious and rude,” she says dryly. “Classic Aksel.”
I glance at her. She’s staring out the window watching the snow-covered streets pass us by. It’s the day after New Year’s Day and everyone is back at work. The streets are busy. There should be something comforting about that but all it does is add to my stress, knowing that all these people look to me as their king. No one should look to me for anything.