My Dark Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Prince Road)

Age Nineteen.

Entire studies could be done on how my body managed to function in New York while my mind remained thousands of miles away in Europe with Briar Rose.

She’d made it safely to Geneva with few bumps along the way. Namely – traveling in a hotel bathrobe and fending off the asshole taxi driver who tried to hit on her.

All in all, the guilt for leaving her in Paris to fend for herself sickened me.

On the flip side, her parents ended up returning to Geneva. A last-minute change of plans with the senator. At least Cuddlebug wasn’t alone, even though we could all agree a prolific serial killer itching for his next victim would make better company.

Meanwhile, I’d made it to the lake house before morning, which meant I’d only taken one day off in Europe. A pit stop, really. Still, Dad managed to be pissy about it.

I pretended to grovel, spending the next two weeks making carpet noises, writing shit down on spreadsheets, and chasing around Dad, his COO, and the board as they showed me and Seb the ropes to company management.

Every day, I counted down the minutes until I reunited with Cuddlebug.

Between the countdown, I crunched numbers, ran customer service simulations, and completed Dad’s sixteen-page exam. I passed. Barely. Seb got an A+.

Fucker.

On our last day at the lake house in Savannah, Dad decided he’d ridden our asses hard enough and gave us a day off.

“You’ve shown real commitment to the business and extraordinary knowledge in hospitality and hotel management.” He watched me and Seb file into his home office with a blank expression. “You deserve a little break.”noveldrama

I perked up. “A break, as in … Europe trip?”

Dad rapped his knuckles on the mahogany desk. “A break, as in: go play in the backyard.”

Seb frowned. “We’re not five.”

“All the same, I will not reward you every time you meet my expectations.” Dad parted a folder, already over the conversation. “You must exceed it to gain prizes. Grill a few steaks and drink a beer or two while I tend to my business.”

Seb’s lips pulled at the corner as he teased me, “Womp, womp.”

Dad shrugged. “You can use the old pontoon, provided you can push it offshore and get it to work.”

“What a day to be alive,” Seb muttered.

“Chop, chop.” Dad clapped his hands. “Some of us have work to do.”

Sebastian and I sped out of Dad’s office before he changed his mind, slamming the door shut behind us. On the other side of the heavy oak, we exchanged high fives, matching fat grins pasted on our faces.

“Holy shit. An entire day off.” Seb wiggled his brows. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

Our father loved us. Objectively speaking, he was fair, involved, and passionate about his family. But he was strict, too. Of course, Mom always said that rules are love wrapped in caution.

Seb slapped my shoulder, beelining into the backyard with me. “What do you wanna do, lover boy?”

My girlfriend. I want to do my girlfriend. Can you make that happen?

I scratched my chin. “I mean, we could take the pontoon to the other side of the lake. There’s a barbecue house there, antique shops, touristy shit.”

“Antique stores?” Seb clutched invisible pearls around his neck and gasped, his expression going flat. “Know your audience, bro.”

“Sorry, Seb. Brothels aren’t legal in this state.”

“Like I would ever need to pay to get laid.” He swiveled toward me, walking backwards on the dock as he gestured toward his face. “Look at me.”

“Do I have to?”

“I’m a fucking god.”

“Did you have an eight ball of cocaine for breakfast?”

He grinned. “Come on. Let’s drive downtown and get laid.”

“If we drive downtown, you’ll get laid, and I’ll have to sit in the lobby of a crappy motel, waiting for you to wash your dick in a kitchenette sink because I’m your ride home.”

Experience proved me right.

Sebastian chuckled. “Are Zach and Rom around this summer?”

I shook my head. “Nah. They have their own shit going on.”

We climbed onto the pontoon, which someone had parked close to Dad’s mini yacht. While it didn’t hold a candle to its twenty-million-dollar neighbor, it was still a nice ride, all silver and black vinyl, state-of-the-art stereos, and docking lights. It even had a storable dinette table.

With all the work we’d done, Seb and I hadn’t done anything fun together in ages. I was glad to spend some time with my little brother. Seb had managed to make things unnecessarily tense during our internship, constantly trying to one-up me when I literally couldn’t give two shits.

In fact, I’d only returned because I knew von Bismarck money would make starting a family with Briar Rose that much easier.

People who didn’t know Seb considered me whip smart and elegant with a knack for numbers. The second they met him, they recategorized me as the dumb brother. After all, he was smarter, more handsome, and more ambitious. Ruthless in his pursuit for whatever he set his eyes on.

He separated his private life from work, school, and sports in ways I never could. It gave him an edge on me.

But I didn’t care about not being the auspicious brother.

I just wanted us to get along.

I hopped into the pontoon after Seb, slid the key into the ignition, and revved the motor, tilting the throttle lever forward. The boat raced onward, slicing the clear turquoise water like a knife.

Seb rolled his sleeves up and got us beers from a little fridge underneath one of the benches. He popped the caps with his thumb and passed me one. I took a slow sip, squinting at the horizon on our way to the island adjacent to the lake house.

“Isn’t it boring, boning the same girl all the time?” Sebastian flung his elbows over the railing. “Like, don’t you want the variety?”

“Not really. There’s more to life than getting your dick wet, Seb.”

Briar Rose and I had only done it once, but I’d known eons ago that it would just her for me. I didn’t need anyone else. Why would I? I only had two hands, and I needed them both to hold on to her.

“Yeah, I know.” He took another pull of his beer as the pontoon zipped through the lake. “There’s also rowing and barbecuing.”

I let out a snort and shook my head. “Awful.”

“Speaking of awful …” He clapped my back from behind, grasping my shoulder with a smirk. “I have bad news.”

Uh-huh. I knew that face. It was the face of an asshole who took pleasure in ruining my day. Seb had a mean streak. He kind of reminded me of Romeo in that sense. Ruining people’s day for sport. As an unapologetic bonus.

I groaned. “What is it?”

“So, while you were in Europe, I wanted to creep on one of the girls I’m dating on Instagram …”

Girls. Plural. Jesus. I wasn’t judgmental, but goddamn, my brother was a total player.

I felt my jaw ticking. “Okay.”

“I always end up accidentally liking one of their photos from, like, 1588 or something.” He chuckled, taking another swig of his beer. “Trust me, there is nothing more humiliating than knowing someone got a notification of you liking their shit from before they hit puberty.”

I stared at him hard, not even focused on the path ahead to the island. “Right. And?”

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“So, anyway, you left your iPad lying around in the common area, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I checked her profile through your Insta account. So, I did.”

“Seb …” I warned.

“I accidentally liked one of her pictures in a bikini on the beach – told you my fingers are not to be trusted around hot girls – and she immediately DM’d me. Well, you.” He snorted. “Only, I forgot I was using your profile, so I started talking to her.”

“Sebastian Leopold von Bismarck.”

“We hit it off quickly.” He chugged more beer, ignoring my rising anger. “Suddenly, like, a dozen notifications popped onto my screen, and I realized she was liking all of your photos. Only I thought they were my photos. So, I started liking all her photos back. And leaving comments.”

“Comments?” I barely moved my fucking jaw, it was so tight. “What comments?”

Briar Rose and I checked each other’s social media every day. No way would she miss it in the long run.

“Nothing too intense. I complimented her on her workouts and genetics. Stuff like that.”

“You said she was hot,” I clarified.

“Smoking.” He sighed. “I mean, she factually is.”

“You little shit.” I cut the engine and set the beer down on the deck, then proceeded to grab the collar of Seb’s shirt. “I have a girlfriend. She is likely going to see this, if she hasn’t already. How could you be so fucking careless?”

I plastered him against the steering wheel. The metal burrowed into his back. I didn’t care.

“Jesus, take a fucking chill pill. Just tell Briar Rose what’s up. She’ll understand.” He tried to wiggle out of my hold, but I was taller, bigger, stronger. “Or I will. It doesn’t matter. She knows you’d never cheat.”

“This was a violation of my privacy.” I shoved my face in his. “You can take the fucking ranch house. You can manipulate Dad into giving you the Lamborghini. Do all this petty shit. I don’t care. But don’t you dare mess with my relationship, Sebastian.”

“Booooring.” He shoved me off him, making a snoring sound. “You think you’re such a fucking hot shot because you have a steady girlfriend?”

I stumbled backwards, the back of my legs hitting the seat.

Seb paused to finish off his beer. “Get off your high horse, dude. Half the charm is that you don’t have to put up with her ass on a daily basis. She lives on the other side of the world.” He flipped me the finger, turning back to the steering wheel. “I said I was sorry.”

I rolled my neck, cracking my fingers. “As if you fucking mean it.”

He switched the motor back on, turning the pontoon back toward the lake house. “Find someone else to untwist your fucking panties. You little crybaby sh—”

He gunned the engine back to life just when I caught the edge of his shirt, pulling him backwards and slamming him against the deck. He thrashed and went for my neck. I pounded his left cheek, catching his jaw.

Seb spat blood on me, laughing manically. “God, you are such a loser.”

He let his head fall back.

“What the fuck, Seb?” I seethed. “Why are you being such an asshole?”

“Because you made me one,” he roared. “You’re always such a good boy, Oliver. Steady girlfriend. Good grades. Responsible. Goofy. Everyone’s friend. Do you know what it takes to get noticed as the second child?”

I drove another fist into his face, but he dodged, ducking his head sideways and grabbing my knuckles. He twisted my wrist inward, flipping us so he now mounted me.

“I needed to be better at sports, better at school, better at everything,” Sebastian spat out, locking me to the deck by the elbows. “I constantly need to upstage you to even remind them that I am alive.”

The pontoon drove aimlessly around the lake at high speeds. Neither of us went for the wheel. Seb’s fingers locked on my neck. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to kill me, but he did do his best to scare the shit out of me.

And now I got it.

The tension looming between us the entire summer.

Sebastian was sick and tired of my presence, like I was sick and tired of his. Yes, he’d upstaged me with his brilliance. But Dad adored me. Not because of my grades or my sports or my performance. But because of the person I was.

Because I was faithful to one girl, like he was to Mom. Because I enjoyed playing Jenga and Uno with the fam instead of going out.

Because I was … me.

Lovable, reliable Oliver.

“Let go of me,” I coughed out, choking on whatever breath I still had in my lungs.

Seb didn’t let go. He just stared at me with his nostrils flared, with his eyes dead, with his mouth flat. And I knew it then. I knew whatever it was, it was a long time coming.

I took a deep breath, drew my knees to my chest, and kicked him off me with all the momentum I had. Seb flew across the boat, knocking against the railing. His face marred with surprise as he toppled backwards over the short railing, falling with a splash into the lake.

I scrambled up to my feet, laughter stuck in my throat. There was no poetic justice better than knowing the little shithead would have to swim his way back to shore. He could do it. Everyone on his rowing team clocked wicked freestyle times, and the dock couldn’t be more than a few minutes out.

But that was before I heard it. The unmistakable grinding sound of meat getting chopped. Something got stuck in the heavy-duty motor. The boat stalled. I lurched forward as it lost speed, gliding through the water with its remaining momentum.

I ran to the transom, peering over the edge. Oh, fuck. Red. So much red. I couldn’t see my brother. He must’ve gone under.

“Shit,” I hissed, launching myself at the wheel.

I cut the engine. It screeched to a stop. I waited for the float to be completely still before I jumped inside the lake headfirst, clothes still on. My pulse rang between my ears. I didn’t know if I could do it. If it was too late to save my brother.

I dove in with my eyes open, waving my hand to clear the swirls of blood. The second it diluted into the lake water, I noticed Sebastian. He hung from the propeller, almost glued to it.

At first, I was almost nauseous with relief. I inventoried his arms and legs, still attached to his body. He clutched onto the propeller for dear life, so as not to fall, which meant he was alive. I swam toward him, clasping his torso under the armpits and pulling him up.

I panicked at his weight, but the adrenaline gave me strength.

“Christ, you’re heavy.” I dragged him onto the stern like a fat, dead fish. “What are mom and dad feeding you?”

He didn’t answer. I flipped him over on his back. That’s when I saw it. His face. Or lack thereof.

Shit, shit, shit.

The propeller got him bad. Chunks of his face had split open. Cracked right in two. A cheek. Parts of his forehead. Everything was red, full of blood, and still, I could see that his face was not his face at all. His hairline started somewhere in the middle of his skull.

And he didn’t answer me.

I didn’t think he could. Blood gushed from his upper lip.

“Seb, Seb, Seb.” I flattened my palms over his chest, trying not to cry at his labored breathing. “I’m so sorry I pushed you. I’m getting this fixed right now. Hang on.”

I needed to get back to shore as soon as possible. I ran to the wheel and restarted the engine, rushing to the dock. As I did, I grabbed my phone and called an ambulance, followed by my parents, begging them to wait for me on the dock.

The entire time, my head was a jumbled mess.

I did this.

I pushed Sebastian into the water over something so stupid, so mundane. Over a goddamn Instagram misunderstanding.

He didn’t make a sound.

I had to glance at him every other second while navigating my way to shore. He was still lying there, panting. It occurred to me that he just lost the one thing he was known for – his looks – and that he would never get it back.

He was never going to forgive me.

What started as a sibling rivalry officially graduated into pure, unadulterated hatred.

I ruined my baby brother’s life.

And there was nothing I could do to change it.