Paper Princess: A Novel (The Royals Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

nobody has said a word. Not them, not Callum. Even standing far below them, I can see that all his sons have his eyes. Vivid blue and piercing in their intensity—all of it focused on their father.
    “Boys,” he finally says. “Come meet our guest.” He shakes his head as if correcting himself. “Come meet the new member of our family.”
    Silence.
    It’s eerie.
    The one in the middle smirks, just a tiny tug on the corner of his mouth. Mocking his father as he rests his muscled forearms on the railing and says nothing.
    “Reed.” Callum’s commanding voice bounces off the walls. “Easton.” Another name rattles out. “Sawyer.” Then another. “Sebastian. Get down here. Now.”
    They don’t move. The two on the right are twins, I realize. Identical in looks, and in their insolent poses when they cross their arms over their chests. One of the twins glances to the side, casting a barely noticeable look toward the brother on the far left.
    A chill runs through me. He’s the one to worry about. He’s the one I need to watch out for.
    And he’s the only one who tilts his head toward me in a calculated slant. As our gazes lock, my heart beats a little bit faster. Out of fear. Maybe under different circumstances, my heart would be pounding for another reason. Because he’s gorgeous. They all are.
    But this one scares me, and I work hard to hide the response. I meet his eyes in challenge. Come down here, Royal. Bring it on.
    Those dark blue eyes narrow slightly. He senses the unspoken challenge. He sees my defiance and he doesn’t like it. Then he turns from the railing and walks away. The others follow as if on command. They dismiss their father from their gazes. Footsteps echo in the cavernous house. Doors close.
    Next to me, Callum sighs. “I’m sorry about that. I thought I got through to them before—they’ve had time to prepare for it—but clearly they still need more time to absorb all this.”
    All this? He means me. My presence in their home, my tie to their father that I never knew I had before today.
    “I’m sure they’ll be more welcoming in the morning,” he says. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
    He sure as hell hasn’t convinced me.

5
    I wake up in an unfamiliar bed and I don’t like it. Not the bed. The bed is the shit. It’s soft but firm at the same time and the sheets are buttery smooth, not like the scratchy pieces of crap that I’m used to, when I actually slept on a bed with sheets. Lots of times it was just a sleeping bag, and those nylon sacks get smelly after a while.
    This bed smells like honey and lavender.
    All this luxury and niceness feels threatening, because in my experience, nice is usually followed by a real nasty surprise. One time, Mom came home from work and announced that we were moving into a better place. A tall, thin man came and helped us pack our meager belongings, and several hours later we were in his tiny house. It was adorable, with plaid curtains on the windows, and despite the small size, I even had my own bedroom.
    Later that night I woke up to the sound of shouting and glass breaking. Mom rushed into my room and pulled me out of bed, and we were out of the house before I could take a breath. It wasn’t until we’d stopped two blocks away that I saw the bruise forming on her cheekbone.
    So nice things doesn’t equal nice people.
    I sit up and take in my surroundings. The whole room is designed for a princess—a really young one. There’s a gag worthy amount of pink and ruffles. It’s really only missing Disney posters, although I’m sure posters are too low-class for this place, just like my backpack sitting on the floor near the door is.
    Yesterday’s events flick through my mind, halting at the stack of hundred dollar bills. I leap out of bed and grab the backpack. Ripping it open, I sigh with relief when I see the stack of Benjamins on the top. I thumb the bills and listen to the sweet sound of the paper shuffling, replacing