Wicked Prince: A Secret Baby Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 5)

by Lilian Monroe

  “Have you been hiding out here this whole time?” The tension is back in Luca’s shoulders.

  Beckett grunts, staring at the two of us with beady, black eyes. He peers over Luca’s shoulder at me, and a chill courses down my spine.

  “What do you want, Beckett?” Luca’s voice is gruff. Angry. Menacing.

  “I want you to finish what we started five years ago.” He jerks his head to the cliff. “You should have died that day.”

  Something in the way his brother’s lips curl makes my blood turn to ice. My heart thumps.

  “What are you talking about?” I croak from behind Luca’s back.

  “I said, you should have died that day. Everyone knows it. But no, you had to live, because everything you do is so fucking perfect. You couldn’t just be a mortal, for once.” Beckett scoffs, staring at the two of us with a razor-sharp gaze.

  I can feel his hatred slicing through me. I wince.

  Beckett takes a step toward us. “You even brought your pregnant wife up here, just to rub my nose in how much better your life turned out than mine.”

  “I didn’t even know you were up here, Beckett.” Luca moves slowly, pulling his cell phone out of his pants pocket. He hands it to me behind his back, and I know he wants me to call for help.

  Beckett looks like he’s in his own world. He combs his fingers through his beard, staring at Luca with bone-chilling hatred. “Do you remember that day, brother? Because I do. I knew that water was too shallow, but I convinced you to jump, anyway.” Beckett scoffs, shaking his head. “I thought it would bring Cara and me closer together. I thought I could take your place. All I did was create the fucking demi-god that you’ve become.”

  The two of them face off in front of each other. My pulse feels thick and sluggish in my veins as my mind whirls around me, and my hands just won’t cooperate. I can’t get Luca’s phone unlocked, and then I notice there’s no signal. My eyes dart back up to the two brothers. Luca’s still standing protectively between the two of us, and Beckett is starting to circle to the left, pinning us next to the cliff’s edge.

  “You didn’t convince me to jump,” Luca says slowly. “I’d wanted to do it for weeks.”

  “And who planted the idea in the first place?” Beckett scoffs. “You’ve always been easy to lead.”

  “No.” The Prince shakes his head. “No, you’re lying.”

  Beckett barks out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “It was pointless, anyway. Cara didn’t want me. She upgraded to Theo. Why be the bastard boy’s wife when you can be a queen?”

  Slowly, second by second, moment by moment, Beckett’s words are starting to sink in.

  He was in love with Cara.

  He tried to kill Luca…multiple times. He tried to get him to break his back, and then came back five years later to finish the job with pills. This wasn’t a new twist of events in the past couple of months. It’s been going on for years.

  Understanding must register on my face, because Beckett starts to laugh. It doesn’t sound like his carefree, musical laugh. It’s unhinged. It’s evil.

  “And your fucking sister had to live, too. Stupid bitch,” Beckett spits at me, his mouth twisting into an ugly snarl. “I thought I gave her enough to kill an elephant, but she survived.”

  My heart stops. The overdose.

  It wasn’t Margot’s fault at all. I’d always been confused about the drugs. I thought I’d been blind, and that she was still hiding something from me.

  It was all Beckett.

  Before I can react, he lunges for us. Luca is quicker. He grabs Beckett across the middle and tackles him to the ground. I scream, the sound ripping my vocal cords raw. They roll over, and Luca’s head lands an inch away from the edge. Beckett’s fingers wrap around his neck.

  “This’ll end today,” he growls, inching Luca closer to the edge. “You’ll lose everything, including your new wife.”

  I scream. I move closer, but Luca waves me away, gasping.

  I don’t know what to do. I’m useless.

  Luca’s phone isn’t working. I don’t have mine. I can’t run and get help while my husband is being strangled on the edge of a cliff. I can’t jump in and help, because they’re both stronger than me and I have two babies to worry about.

  So, I just stand there, helpless.

  With Beckett’s hand on Luca’s windpipe, I can see Luca’s strength sapping away. His movements are getting heavier, and his eyes bulge unnaturally. I scream again, taking a step closer to them. Luca struggles against his half-brother, grunting.

  Luca told me that the first time Beckett attacked him, he couldn’t hit his brother. It felt wrong.

  Now, though, I can see in Luca’s eyes that he knows this is life or death. Beckett isn’t his brother anymore. I scream again, urging him to fight back. With the last bit of his power, Luca lands a punch to the kidneys. Beckett winces, releasing his grasp on Luca’s neck long enough for Luca to flip him over.

  Beckett claws at Luca’s face, tearing jagged, bloody lines down his cheek. I scream, scrambling toward them and grabbing Beckett around the neck.

  “Ivy, no!” Luca screams just as Beckett flings me back. I fall back, landing on jagged rocks. I cradle my stomach, just wanting to protect my children. A scream slips through my lips just as Luca punches his brother in the jaw. Beckett knees him in the groin and pain shatters visibly across Luca’s face. Using Luca’s moment of weakness, Beckett rolls them over again.

  I groan, peeling myself off the rocks and crawling away. Tears are streaming down my face.

  “Run, Ivy! Get help.” Luca struggles with Beckett, but I can’t leave.

  I just can’t.

  The wind whips around us. I can smell the sour sweat on Beckett’s body, the salty air, the fresh breeze through the trees.

  I don’t want Luca to die.

  Scanning the rocks, I find one that fits into my hand. Rasping, I pick it up and turn toward the men. I’m going to end this right now. No one hurts my Luca.

  No one.

  As I stalk toward the two men, I see something change in Luca. He can see me approaching. With his last ounce of strength, Luca lands a punch to Beckett’s temple. A wheeze escapes the man’s lips, and he slumps to the side. Beckett’s body goes limp, and he falls toward the edge of the cliff.

  Too close. His legs slip over the edge, followed by his hips, his chest.

  Screaming, Luca reaches for him. He manages to grab onto his brother’s arm with one hand and Beckett’s belt with the other.

  Luca roars, and I don’t know if it’s panic or pain. Blood is pouring from a cut above his eye. His face is scratched, his knuckles bloody. I drop the rock, scrambling toward them. I ignore my own pain as it burns through my body. My back is in agony. Every nerve ending is burning, twisting, piercing through me.

  Grunting, Luca tries to haul his brother to safety. He stumbles, and Beckett’s limp body starts to slip from his grasp. I pant, dropping to my knees to grab Beckett’s arm.

  Luca closes my eyes for just a moment to try to clear his head.

  I see him hesitate, and I know what he’s feeling. I know, because we’re one person split into two bodies. Luca is my soulmate, the love of my life, the father of my children.

  I know the look on his face.

  There’s too much pain in his body. Too much suffering in his heart. If he just loosens his grip, Beckett will fall, and it’ll all be over.

  “Luca,” I say softly. “On three.”

  Luca huffs, opening his eyes again and nodding.

  “One,” I say, sending love and support into Luca’s soul.

  “Two.” Strength pulses from me to him, and the knowledge that the guilt of Beckett’s death would kill him eventually. We have to save Beckett—even though they’re only half related, even though he tried to kill Luca, even though he poisoned Margot, even though he did it all out of sick jealousy—we can’t let him fall.

  “Three.”

  Luca lets out a wordless scream, pulling Beck
ett up over the edge. Beckett’s limp body lands on top of my husband’s, and I help to roll Beckett over onto his back. His head lolls to the side, his tongue hanging out.

  Panting, Luca feels for a pulse. He nods.

  Beckett’s still alive.

  I let out a breath, closing my eyes for just a moment. Then, I pick myself up off the ground. Luca stands up with me, wrapping his arms around me as tears start to fall from his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, over and over again. “I’m so sorry, Ivy.”

  “Shh,” I say. I don’t have the energy to say anything else. I just nod, kissing Luca’s tears away and nodding to Beckett. “Let’s deal with him.”

  Beckett is too heavy to drag or carry back down to the palace, so we scrounge around for something to tie him with.

  The only thing we have is our shoelaces. I take them off my shoes and hand them to Luca, who does his best to bind his brother’s hands and feet. I pray that he’ll still be here when the guards come back.

  Then, the two of us stumble back as fast as our screaming bodies will let us. I wave Luca ahead. “I need to go slow,” I say, putting a hand to my stomach. “You go get help.”

  “You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m leaving you, Ivy,” Luca says, dropping back to stay by my side. “We do this together.”

  My lower lip trembles as a wave of emotion crashes into me.

  Luca slides his hand over my shoulders and holds me close. “It’s over now, Ivy, my love. It’s all over.”

  I nod, not trusting my voice. Tears stream down my face as his words sink in.

  It’s all over.

  Now, we can live. Now, we can be free. Now, we can move forward.

  30

  MARGOT

  I’VE BEEN SPENDING MORE time at Spoonful of Sugar since I got back to Farcliff. Giselle and Georgina have been running the place since Ivy’s been gone, and it’s nice to have some familiar faces around. In a way, being at the bakery feels more like home than the big mansion where I sleep.

  One evening, Ivy calls me, breathless, and tells me they caught Beckett. She tells them he confessed to injecting me with heroin laced with fentanyl, causing my overdose. A tear drops from my eye, and all I do is cradle my stomach.

  A part of me expects to get a call from Dante.

  I don’t, though. Why would he call?

  Catching Beckett doesn’t change anything. He’s the father of my child. I withheld that information from Dante. Just because Beckett is behind bars doesn’t mean that Dante’s opinion of me has changed.

  I mostly work in the back of the bakery, doing odd jobs and keeping myself busy. Even though Felicity and Melissa want me to get back into the public eye, I’ve been enjoying spending time with people like the twins and their brothers.

  They don’t treat me like a celebrity. I’m not Margot LeBlanc to the seven of them, I’m just Ivy’s sister. Plus, my baby kicks happily anytime I’m at the bakery, and who am I to resist that kind of endorsement? Whether it’s the smells of delicious baking, or the laughter and camaraderie of the twins and other workers, I’m not sure.

  Either way, it’s where I want to be.

  Irving, the twins’ oldest brother, usually elicits lots of kicks from the baby. His big, booming voice and constant supply of milkshakes keeps both me and my child happy.

  “Any plans for the holidays, Margot?” Irving asks, hauling a huge bag of flour over his shoulder. “Christmas is only two weeks away.”

  “Just going to take it easy,” I respond, trying to keep the grimace off my face.

  Last year, the holidays were full of celebrity-studded parties, drinking, drugs, and time spent with Ivy. This year, my sister is in Argyle and I have no desire to go out.

  “Well, you have to come to our place,” Giselle says, poking her pink head of hair through the door. “Georgie and I are making a turkey.”

  “With my help,” Irving grins. “Don’t know that I’d trust the two of you with a bird that big.”

  Giselle laughs, waving him away. “Fine. We’ll make the pies, then.”

  My heart warms and I nod. “That would be great, actually.”

  “What’s Ivy going to do?”

  “I think she’s staying in Argyle.”

  Giselle smiles sadly. “I miss her, but I get that she wants to be with her new hubby.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel.”

  Giselle walks over to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Well, you can be our replacement Ivy.”

  I laugh. “Never thought I’d hear those words.”

  “Got to knock you down a peg or two,” Irving grins. “Too much celebrity and fame aren’t good for a person.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  My baby moves, and I put a hand to my stomach. Taking a deep breath, a sense of calm washes over me. A few months ago, I would have been unhappy and panicking about the holidays.

  It’s harder to face your demons without chemical numbness, but it feels good. Now, I feel all my emotions fully. I still feel sad about Dante’s reaction. A part of me wishes that he’d stepped up and accepted my child and me like he said he would.

  I trusted him when he said he loved me. I believed him when he said he wanted this child like his own.

  I should have known the truth.

  It’s too hard to take on someone else’s burden like that. There are too many forces working against us, and too many reasons for him to turn away. Better for me to know now, than to start to rely on his love and support only to be crushed after the baby is born.

  He was quick to turn his back on me when he found out about the baby’s father. Imagine how he would have reacted if he found out about my disease!

  No, I’m better off on my own. That way, I can rely on my own strength. I know I won’t let myself down.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  My heart is always in agony when I think of the betrayal on Dante’s face when he found out about Beckett. Nights are lonely, and I miss his touch, his kiss, his sex.

  But I refuse to let myself wallow.

  I’m stronger now. I’ve changed. I’m no longer the sick, weak girl who was constantly looking for approval from others. Although I miss Ivy, I don’t begrudge her spending time with her new family. I don’t chase photo opportunities with the paparazzi, or crave the validation of the masses.

  I’m lonely, but I’m not alone.

  I keep my hands busy at the bakery, and my mind busy with my baby.

  Still, I see Dante everywhere. I see him in the walk-in fridge, where he pushed me up against the wall and made me come for the first time. I see him at the house, near the pool, in my bed. The wind carries his smell, and I imagine his face on a thousand different strangers in the street.

  He’s not here, though, and I’m better off alone.

  SO, the week before Christmas, when Ivy walks through the front door, I almost drop the tray of cookies that I’m carrying to the display case.

  Georgie squeals, jumping over the counter and wrapping her arms around Ivy. Prince Luca stiffens beside her, putting a protective hand over Ivy’s back.

  Once the twins release my sister from their grasp, Ivy moves toward me. She gives me a big hug, glancing down at my belly.

  “Don’t we look like a pair of whales.”

  “Speak for yourself, Ivy,” I shoot back, laughing as I wrap my arms around her again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the holidays in Argyle.”

  “She insisted,” Luca interjects, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Couldn’t spend Christmas without you. Maybe the bakery, too. Argyle Palace is overrun with cinnamon buns. Can’t find enough people to eat them all.”

  Ivy laughs, elbowing him in the ribs. Her eyes shine as she looks around the bakery, already reaching for an apron.

  “Definitely came back for the bakery,” I grin, glancing at Luca.

  THAT NIGHT, it actually feels good to go back home with Ivy. It’s not a big, empty hous
e anymore. It’s home. As Ivy and I lay back on the couches in the living room and she fills me in on everything that’s happened in Argyle, my mind drifts to Dante.

  A pulsing pain passes through my chest, just like it always does when I think of him. I blame myself for our breakup, but I still resent him for not loving me like he promised he would.

  After the heartbreak of leaving him behind, and the excruciating pain of his silence, I learned one thing: I should have told him about everything. I should have been honest with him from the start about the baby, about Beckett, even about my disease.

  Starting a relationship with him under false pretenses was wrong, and that’s why it fell apart. Of course, he could have acted more graciously. Of course, he could have been kinder. Of course, he could have loved me anyway.

  But I’m the one that lied by omission. I’m the one that was too much of a coward to say anything.

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few months, it’s that I need to be more honest with everyone—including myself. I don’t want my child to grow up with a mother who’s afraid to face her demons, or who can’t say how she feels. I don’t want to hide my illness from my sister and my child. I don’t want to die quietly, like Mama did. I want to live. Even if it isn’t the longest life, I want to live it to its fullest.

  I’m sick of being afraid. I’m sick of being small.

  “Dante’s been struggling.” Ivy glances at me, and the sound of the Prince’s name makes my ears perk up.

  I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s been mopey and weird since you left. Luca says that’s how he was when he was younger. He’ll disappear for days at a time and barely talks to anyone.”

  “Oh.” I’m not quite sure what to do with that information. By the way Ivy is staring at me, I can tell my response isn’t enough for her.

  Silence hangs between us. I stare at the ceiling, and for the first time, I realize that the only way for me to live my life is if I’m completely open. Honest. Free.