The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“Maybe.” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. When
it dropped at his side, he looked at me, eyes hazy and red.
“My mother just called. I was . . . I was just with him, and he
just . . . my father died.”
“What?” I held my breath, my brain filing through all of
the appropriate things to do in a moment like this, and the
one thing that came to mind was that he was no longer
Prince Elias, sought-after bachelor. He was now King Elias,
if he kept that name. Nevertheless, I curtsied.
“Don’t.” His voice sounded shredded, as if he was trying
hard to hold in tears. I looked up at him. “Please don’t. Not
you.”
I felt my heart rip at the sight of him. Disheveled and sad.
He looked like a lonely boy left to fend for himself, and in a
sense he was. I pushed aside his title and walked forward,
around the couch between us, my heart dropping with each
step. When I reached him, I paused just in front of him. Close
enough to touch, smart enough not to.
“I’m so terribly sorry, Eli,” I whispered.
He nodded a few times, his head bobbing along with his
Adam’s apple. He licked his lips, in lieu of words, and
continued to nod. He looked utterly broken and I hated
seeing him like that. I felt my own sadness creep through
and turn to tears, not for me, but for him, for his mother, for
his siblings, for the country. He took a deep breath and let it
out, bringing a hand to my face. I nearly jumped at the
contact, but was left confused when I felt him wipe a tear.
“You feel so much, Addie. Too much. Even for men you
detest,” he whispered.
“I don’t detest him. I didn’t even know him.” I
swallowed. “I know you. I feel for you.”
“God.” He breathed out, stepping forward and crashing
my head onto his chest. “You’re too good to be true. Too
good for anyone, definitely too good for me.”