Wicked Prince Charmings: Blue Saffire & Co. Fairy Tales

by Blue Saffire

  Curiosity colors her features. I’m thrown by the expression at first. I tilt my head to study her face.

  “What do you have on my father?” she asks.

  “Enough evidence to put him away for life. Now about my proposal?”

  “This is blackmail.”

  I look up to the ceiling like I’m searching for something I lost.

  “What are you looking for?” She too starts to look up.

  “I’m looking for the flying fuck I give about blackmailing you.” I stare her in the eyes. “Do I sound like my moral fiber is affected?”

  She shakes her head. “Why not just expose us both and become mayor by default?”

  I stand to leave. “Where’s the fun in that? I’m not the punk you dated years ago. I do things my way now.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Make the fucking time. We have the dinner ball tonight to welcome the delegates. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “You don’t know where I live.” She’s royally pissed, her anger drips from her words. I love that I can rile her up.

  “You live at your grams’ house on Oak Street. See you at seven. Don’t keep me waiting.” I saunter to the door and leave.

  Amelia

  My god, what just happened? It’s amazing. I want to hug and strangle him at the same time. It’s like I’m on sensory overload. Everything about Ethan is magnificent. My heart aches as I watch him leave. There’s so much I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t.

  His smell still lingers in my office, the scents of expensive leather and lavender. It’s heady and seductive, making my pulse race and my undies a bit wet. Gone is the boy I fell in love with.

  No, that was a man. He now stands at least six four, broad shoulders, strong back, and a tapered waist. The boy I loved was lanky with a man bun and patchy beard.

  This man has a professional haircut, short on the sides, long on the top, clean-shaven, no beard on his strong jaw. The only thing that has remained the same is his eyes. Still green, only this time they’re filled with reprisal and hate.

  What am I going to do? What does he have on father? I need that information.

  My cell phone rings. I look down into my bag. Speak of the devil. I know he’ll be in a panic. I don’t feel like answering any calls. I ignore it. I pick up my jacket and bag and leave my office.

  “Mrs. Beal. I’m out for the rest of the day.”

  She gives a nod and waves. I head to the garage to my car. I need to get home to take a hot shower and breathe.

  Yes, Ethan’s back, but he isn’t back for me—just to claim his vengeance. Why would he be back for me anyway? I’m the cold-hearted bitch who killed his child.

  My phone buzzes again in my bag. Pressing the Bluetooth on the car, I answer. “Hello?”

  “Sis, where are you? Daddy is in full panic mode.” My sister, Olivia’s voice echoes through the car.

  “I’m headed to Grams’. Have you heard?”

  “Yup, I saw Soren earlier today. He told me him, Jalyn, and Ethan are back in town for a while.”

  “He wants to run for Mayor... against Dad.”

  “What? You’re lying. No wonder Dad’s a mess. I don’t understand what the fuss is about, he can’t run, he doesn’t live here.”

  I smile as my heart breaks. “He bought Litchfield Manor?”

  “Well, fuck.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  “How are you feeling about all of this? Him being back?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  Olivia sighs. “Maybe it’s a sign for you to tell the truth. Maybe it’s time. A lot has changed.”

  “The truth will only hurt him more.” I pause and fight back my emotions. My mind races over the events of the last few hours. I have a new plan. I need to know what Ethan knows. “Meet me at Grams’. I need help with my hair and makeup.”

  Olivia shuffles around on the other end, the sound of bags or something comes through the phone. “And where are we going tonight?”

  “To the Penndel delegation ball,” I reply.

  The phone line becomes silent. This stupid phone has given me problems this whole week. I’m tired of asking can you hear me now.

  “Hello, Livy? Are you there?”

  “Heifer, you never go to that ball.”

  “I know,” I murmur and stare absently out the windshield. Even with my plan in mind, I’m already dreading tonight. I’m drawn from my thoughts by more shuffling over the phone.

  “Who are you going with?”

  I inhale because I know she’s going to erupt. “Ethan.” I lean against my car window.

  Images of him in my office fill my head. The difference time can make. We’re worlds apart from where we once were, and I still don’t think we’ll ever be where we should’ve been.

  “Do you though, sis? Do you? Dad is going to freak,” she exclaims.

  “I know.”

  “I love it. Good for you,” she sings through the phone. I park my car in Grams’ garage and sit there listening to Livy rant. “Anyway, I’ll be over to help you. See you soon, sis.”

  The call disconnects and I get out. The driveway is empty except of my vehicle, which means Grams has already left for her Mediterranean cruise. Thank you, God.

  I can soak in the bathtub for a few with no distractions. Maybe I can use one of my new bath bombs from Sugar Bae. I’ll find one that relaxes me.

  Chapter 3

  Where it Began

  Ethan

  I didn’t realize how much I missed Penndel Heights until my car is moving through the long driveway. Tall moss-covered trees arch over the path, protecting anyone arriving at Litchfield Manor.

  There she stands, the white old antebellum home of my past dreams. My driver parks the car and I climb out. I take it all in.

  Memories come flooding back to me. So many images and moments. I rush to put a lid on them and force my feet forward.

  For the first time in more than a decade, I enter Casa Bianca, as Red had called it. The house is all hollowed out, the sound of men hard at work surrounds me. I step nimbly, crossing over to a group of workers cutting pieces of wood. Ducking under a wooden frame, I continue until I reach the wall at the back of the house.

  When I get to my destination, I graze my fingers over the markings of two teenagers who were in love, making empty promises to be together forever.

  “Who’s there?” I called out. I grabbed my baseball bat and I walked through Litchfield Manor. It was my hide out whenever I needed to run away from home.

  I knew I heard the floors creak. I wasn’t going crazy. I stood in my full Jackie Robinson stance ready to whack the head off my intruder.

  They said the manor was haunted. The family who owned it died tragically in a carriage crash. That was like a million years ago, but my mansion stood like a stalwart friend, protecting me constantly.

  As I was about to turn, I heard it again. The creak in the floor.

  If it was a ghost, I was about to whoop its ass. “Come out now, before I beat your brains in,” I snarled.

  A small delicate hand reached from behind the wall. “Please, don’t. It’s just me.” Stepping out slowly she revealed herself.

  The “me” turned out to be Ms. Perfect herself. Amelia Huntsman decked out in her usual red hoodie and jeans.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Every time I encountered her, she affected me and that pissed me off.

  “I needed to breathe. The rain started to fall so I ducked in here.” She twisted her hands in her hoodie pocket.

  “So, you come here? By yourself? That’s dangerous.” I placed the bat against the wall near my makeshift bed.

  “You’re here by yourself,” she replied.

  “Yeah, but I’m a man.”

  “That’s sexist.”

  “But it’s the damn truth. Supposed it was someone else and they raped you?”

  She looked around the room, observing the missing floor
boards.

  “You’re right. I just left a party at Austin Woodman’s house. It felt a bit crowded, so I walked and ended up here.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “What the hell is wrong with you? That’s more than six miles away.”

  She snickered. “I know. You’re Ethan Wulf, right? You got suspended last week for punching one of Austin’s friends.”

  I hated all the Richie Rich crew. The crew was made up of twelve spoiled, sniveling, privileged teenagers. Red was a part of the crew.

  “He smacked and squeezed my sister’s butt and said he wants a piece of it.”

  She gasped. “That’s disgusting. Ew, that’s so revolting.”

  “I gave him a piece of my fists and now I’m grounded and suspended.”

  “I’m sorry that happened. Is Jalyn okay?”

  “How do you know my sister’s name?”

  She puts her hair behinds her ears. “We both volunteered for Adopt a Puppy last month. She’s nice.”

  I smirked with pride; my chest warming. “God alone knows where she gets that from.”

  She moved closer examining the bare walls. My candles illuminated them. “Why are you here?”

  I wanted to ignore her, but I thought she’d ask me till I gave in. “I stole some ounces of my stepfather’s coke and sold it for money for my sister’s insulin and schoolbooks.”

  She raised her hands to her mouth. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m a bastard, but I don’t lie. He’s looking for me, so I’m staying low for a while.”

  “Isn’t your suspension almost over? What about school?”

  “What about it?” I shrugged.

  “Well, you need it.”

  I remained silent. I didn’t figure out life that far ahead yet. I took out my blunt, about to light it.

  “Ew!”

  You gotta be kidding me. “Ew, what?”

  “You smoke?”

  “This isn’t a cookie in my hand.” I snorted and shook my head at her. She looked back at me with wide eyes.

  “That’s not healthy.”

  “There are more than five sections in the house with open doors. You’re more than welcome to leave if my smoking bothers you, Red.”

  “Red? Why did you call me that?”

  Why couldn’t I get some freaking peace. I pulled hard on my face. “The red hoodie, you’re always wearing it. Hence the name Red.” She huffed and sat in the corner of the back wall. “Why are you sitting?”

  “Are you going to let me stay?”

  I scratched my head. I have a sister. I could be nicer.

  “Linkin Park or Slipknot?” She stared at me like a deer in headlights. “Linkin Park or Slipknot?”

  “Linkin Park, duh.”

  “The answer was Slipknot. Nirvana or Guns and Roses?”

  “Nirvana?”

  “That’s correct. Though we respect the Rose.” She laughed and her sweet giggle echoed through the empty house. “Finally, Biggie or Tupac?”

  “I don’t compare greatness. I love it and I respect. Maybe they would be alive if they did the same.”

  I shook my head. “You can stay for one hour. I have my bike outside I can drop you home, or you can call someone?”

  “What kind of bike? One with pedals or an engine?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?” If she said it did, I was kicking her out right then.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  She stayed for more than an hour. Talking about everything—space travel, food network, and interestingly, the Sopranos. If she were anyone else, they would have annoyed me, but for some reason Red and her prattle made me calm.

  “Pass me your pen knife.” She pointed to the blade by the candles.

  I did. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m carving the day we became friends. So, we can remember in times when we forget.”

  03.15.07 Red + Wulfie.

  That night I started to fall in love with Amelia “Red” Huntsman.

  “Bro, you okay?” A tap on the shoulder pulls me from my past.

  I nod. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Soren stands at my side. “What are we looking at?”

  “Nothing. Do nothing to this wall. Don’t paint it or anything.”

  Soren strokes his beard. He’s dressed like a handsome hipster. It drives Jalyn nuts.

  “Why?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

  “Because I said so. Are you coming to the gala tonight?” I say, steering him away from the wall, back to the front of the house.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Great, I’ve got to go the hotel.”

  “Did you see her?” He cuts me off before I can finish my thought. I know the her he’s referring to. Red.

  “Yes, I did.” I step over an unplugged saw.

  “And?”

  I turn to him. “And what?”

  “You didn’t talk?” His gaze searches my face. I keep my expression blank.

  “How is that your concern?”

  Soren strokes his beard some more, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your non-verbals speak volumes, bro.”

  “She will be there tonight.”

  “Great, I can’t wait to see her.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you and Jalyn? Did you forget what she and her dad did to me? To us as a family?”

  Placing his hands on his hip, he bows his head. When he looks at me again, his thoughts run across his face and he furrows his brows. “That never added up to me.”

  “Trust me, I was there. It added. This isn’t a plan to reminisce.”

  “Yes, we know it’s one of retribution. Cue evil cackle here.” His words are laced with sarcasm.

  I flip him the bird and start for my car as I call over my shoulder. “Bring Jalyn with you, see you at 7:30. And for god’s sake, wear a fucking helmet over that man turd on your head.”

  Chapter 4

  Enamored

  Amelia

  “Tuck in your gut.” Olivia is trying to kill me.

  “Livy, I don’t need a waist trainer.” I hold onto the poster of the bed.

  “If Kim K wears one, your fat ass is fitting into one. I can’t believe you don’t own Spanx.”

  I’m five six in height, 150 pounds. I’m healthy and happy with the curves that I have. I have a small tummy, but I don’t need this contraption that Livy’s trying to place me in. When the tugging is finished, I think my rib cage and my spine are meeting for the first time.

  “I don’t think I can breathe, Liv.”

  “Fabulous, that means it’s working.”

  She walks into my closet and returns with a short black silk satin dress. I know that look on her face. I’m shaking my head as she holds it up.

  “No, this is a formal dinner. Put that back. My dress is behind the door.”

  She rolls her eyes at me and returns to the closet. Seconds later she returns with the gown for tonight. “Wow, this is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” I murmur.

  Once dressed, I stand in front of the mirror in my red lamé, braided strap, floor length ensemble, a pair of emerald cut studs, a matching tennis bracelet, gold ankle strap heels, and a clutch to match.

  “What do you think?” I adjust my pin curls.

  “It’s not the dress he deserves, but it’s the dress he needs,” Olivia says.

  “What?”

  “It’s a batman thing.” She waves me off. “I have a question. You said it’s revenge he’s seeking. Why are you so comfortable with it?”

  I narrow my eyes at her in thought, trying to think of an answer for myself. I don’t want to respond to her. “Who says I’m comfortable?”

  Just then the doorbell rings. Olivia dashes downstairs to get the door. I’m left with her question ringing in my ears. She’s right, why am I even doing this?

  I don’t want to think about why? The pain that’s lying beneath the surface pushes to expose more than I’ll allow if I answer that question in truth.

  Olivia squea
ls so loud with joy, it reaches me upstairs. “Ethan, darling.”

  Ethan

  There are some people, no matter how much you want to hate them you can’t. Olivia Huntsman is that woman. Outspoken, vibrant, and in your face. I always thought that she and Soren had a thing for each other, but I guess I was wrong.

  “How is the lawyer life, Olivia?”

  “Great. Let’s cut the crap before she gets down here.” I place my hands in my pockets and brace for her words. “I don’t get this whole journey you’re on. It’s bullshit.”

  Well, I guess they talked. Leave it to Olivia to get to the point. I don’t let it phase me. However, I wonder what Red told her? Did she make me out to be the bad boy from her past? Did she tell her that she wished we never dated?

  I cut those thoughts off. I’m here for one thing and one thing only. Because I adore Olivia, I don’t reply.

  My attention is drawn by the sound of heels clicking. I look up and my whole body tenses. As a teenager Amelia wore her red hoodie and converse. She was cute. As a woman… she’s a fucking knock out.

  She looks like a goddess in the red, but in this moment, the metallic red dress resting on the curves of her body has me thinking of anything other than a holy goddess. My thoughts are more along the lines of carrying her upstairs and exacting my revenge in her bed.

  “Hello.” She smiles.

  “Let’s go, I don’t want to be late. Liv, it’s been nice.” I didn’t stay to exchange any further pleasantries. Instead, I turn and head out to the car.

  I open the passenger side door and wait. She passes me, and that familiar scent of elegance and sweet cashmere wraps around me, making me hard as hell. Chiding my dick, I close the door and round the car.

  I jump behind the wheel and start the engine. Pulling out of the driveway, I reclaim my thoughts. We’re fifteen minutes away from the Penndel Banquet Hall. Yet, the drive seems like it’s going to take forever. Why does she have to smell so damn good? Somehow her scent, and the scent of the new car leather, makes an intoxicating combination.