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

C H A P T E R 6
A
t seven o’clock the following evening, I walked up to
the prince’s villa and sat the wicker basket down in
front of the door. Unlike yesterday, Pierre wasn’t standing
beside it. Tonight, there was security everywhere, though.
I’d overheard two of them saying they were expecting a lot of
people at the party tonight. A lot of ruckus and nudity the
other added. I’d just placed the basket down, when, like
clockwork, the front door opened. Prince Elias was standing
on the other side of it, with a short glass in his hand. His
white shirt was unbuttoned up top and his sleeves were
rolled up as if he’d just gotten home from work, but I knew
better. The man didn’t work. I hadn’t seen him leave the
premises the entire week.
“Are you ready for your date?” he asked, disapproval
dripping from his voice.
“I am. Are you ready for your party?”
“I am.” He took a large gulp, draining the glass of
alcohol. His dark, mysterious eyes never left mine. “Do you
drink, Miss Adeline?”
“Occasionally.”
“Come in. Share a drink with me.”
“I can’t.”