Prologue
I've been watching her for five years now—all because I gave him my word.
The hell was I thinking?
Five years of my life wasted watching his stupid Hope. It was painful. Painful to watch her boring daily nothing.
How did he even trust me? Chandler was an idiot to assign me, out of all people, as her guardian angel. I remember that night. The one when everything felt heavy—crushing me more than the normal weight I'm used to carrying—and I would've sold my kidney to forget.
Even if it was for a single night.
I was mad he got the easy way out. That DeLuca fucker was too weak to handle his life in captivity. I was counting down the days for him to get out. Waiting to greet him with my rough fists that would've knocked him out cold. I would've used his blood for street painting.
I knew his wife. Knew his son too. The kid was barely a child when DeLuca decided the only way to prove he was a man was by beating the two people weaker than him.
I hate the word power.
And I despise anyone who holds it over someone else.
This is the exact reason why I hate her. Hope White. President White's princess. Her father is a corrupt president who doesn't know how to lead shit. He only knows how to shove his family pictures onto our faces and flaunt his expensive life to the media- the one he got without a bead of sweat.
Here I am, in a bar, keeping my eyes on Caleb Chandler's fucking Princess. The same one who put him away for good.
I sit afar, minimal light beams reaching the corner I'm laying low in. No one knows who I really am. No one- except for her and if she saw my pretty grey eyes, she'll rat me out in a second.
Five years consisting of exactly four destinations: Whites residence, the Chandlers' house, Oxford and shrinks which is batshit crazy given that she's majoring in the field.
No siblings.
No friends.
No new Wes Bennet.
So what the hell is she doing here? She's wearing a black sweatshirt with her hair in a bun, no makeup on and her hand holds a shot which would be her fifth.
Hope White never drinks.
This will be very interesting news for Chandler. Your Princess isn't the perfect girl you thought she was. And this bartender Sam better stop talking to her like she's his new friend because the only boy friend she's allowed to have under my watch is Caleb—or he'll have my neck when he returns.
"You looking for some company?" A stranger with a black glittery dress that barely covers her suddenly blocks my sight.
"Yes." I offer her a smile and wait for a couple of seconds as I watch her hand inch closer to my arm before saying, "My own."
She scowls, calls me a name that doesn't belong to me and leaves. The instant she does, my normal view returns, and the first thing I see is Hope sitting alone now, looking down her lap as a man empties a powder into her drink on the counter.
He then sits two seats away from her, ordering from the bartender. I stand up, hesitate at first then force my feet there.
She's drunk.
She won't recognise who I am.
I head to the man first. He's wearing glasses, a decent suit that looks like it costs more than the house I live in and has a nice Rolex watch.
I wait for his drink to be served in front of him on the counter before I grab it.
"Hey! This is mine." He screeches like a cheerleader.
"Really?" I down the shot, feeling it burn in my throat. The guy looks at me baffled before I slam the glass against his chest, spilling what's left of his drink all over that expensive suit.
I point at Hope, who's still sitting clueless on the side, drowning in her misery. "So is she."
I take a quick glance around me, making sure no one notices the scene I'm making. Everyone is too busy having fun.
Good.
I smile as I pat the man sulking at his ruined suit, my hand brushing his wrist before I let him go.
"Next time you spike someone's drink, you better remember this face before you do it to a woman."
He scurries away, leaving the bar right away. I reach Hope as she's about to fall from her seat, supporting her under her arms.
"Thank you." She forces a smile, not yet looking at me.
"Care to explain what you're doing in a shithole like this?" I scold her— angry at the man more than her choice for destination.
"I lost someone."
Then she does the one thing I don't know how to handle—she starts crying. Someone give me a catalog on how to deal with a woman in tears because I don't know what to do.
It's like a fucking dam broke.
She's talking about Caleb. It takes me a second to realize what today is. Five years ago today was the last time she saw him.
And she's sad?
All this time, I thought she was alone because she wanted to be.
Turns out the one person she wanted just wasn't out here.
Fuck.
I curse softly. "Come here, Princess."
My hands move gently through her hair. "I miss him too, you know."
Her body tenses.
Shit.
"Let's get you back home," I say.
Hope takes a step back—her eyes drag across my face before settling on mine. I watch them widen with recognition.
Then horror.
Shit.
"Rico?"
I stare at her.
Five fucking years and this is how I get caught.
Of course it is.
Her eyes don't leave mine. My pretty gray eyes—the ones I unfortunately didn't get from my mother.
I knew DeLuca's son better than anyone.
My eyes drop to the Rolex sitting nicely around my wrist.
At least something tonight belongs to me by choice.
Because apparently, getting rid of my father didn't mean I could get rid of the name he so generously gifted me.
Ricardo DeLuca.
~ To Be Continued~
Dear readers,
Please tell me you're as excited for Rico's story as I am 🤭
Have you read the first novel in this series, All the Things We Hope For?
This can definitely be read as a standalone, but I'm just curious 👀
TELL ME YOUR OPINION ON THE PROLOGUE PLEASE 🤧
Do we like Rico already? Or do we not trust him yet? 👀
If you liked this little entry into the novel, please vote and leave a comment. It really does support me and motivates me to write more ♥️
Love,
Mariam <3
