Gorgeous Prince

Copyright © 2023 by Charity Ferrell All rights reserved. Visit my website at Cover Designer: Lori Jackson Cover Photographer: Wander Aguiar Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com Proofreading: Jenny Sims, Editing 4 Indies No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. ISBN-13: 978-1-952496-49-3 CONTENTS Author’s Note Dedication Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Epilogue Available Now Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Also by Charity Ferrell About the Author AUTHOR’S NOTE Hi reader, Gorgeous Prince is darker than my usual stories. This story contains graphic violence that could be triggering to some. For Jill and Brooke, Thank you for reading the many versions of this book, for your support, and believing in my writing when I struggled to. PROLOGUE NEOMI Ten Years Old Before today, I’ve never heard of the term arranged marriage. And from the way my cousin, Carla, is crying about it at her wedding, it sounds like a bad thing. “Please don’t make me do this,” Carla whimpers. “I’m in love with someone else.” Tears slip down her cheeks and smear her mascara. Rumor has it, Carla went off to college and fell in love. He comes from a long line of law enforcement. Marrying such a man would put shame on our family. We’re gathered in the bridal suite to prepare for her special day. The maid of honor is in the corner, chugging champagne. My mother kneels at my feet and fluffs my flower girl dress to perfection while my sister Bria whines about wearing pink. My aunt scoffs. “Love is for idiots, my dear daughter.” Carla’s sobs grow louder. “I don’t love Aldo.” Carla says her fiancé’s name with a sneer. My mother pauses her fluffing to swat at Carla’s ankles and glowers at her. “Your heart belongs to you and only you, my beautiful girl.” She captures Carla’s hand and gently squeezes it. “We never give something so valuable of ourselves to anyone.” Carla cries harder. “Arranged marriages are our families’ way,” my mother adds, dropping Carla’s hand and returning to my dress. “It’s what keeps us strong. You have to keep your heart out of it.” “Prepare yourself, sweet cousin,” Carla says, glancing at me with sad brown eyes. “Arranged marriages are all we get from this life.” Her face twists, as if she envisions a grim fate for us both. “And whatever you do, don’t fall in love with your husband. He’ll rip your heart into pieces.” She peers over her shoulder to my CHAPTER ONE NEOMI Twenty-Five Years Old Three Years before the Wedding Stabbing him was a bad idea. But it’s not like I’d planned to choose violence when I walked into Seven Seconds nightclub tonight. “Stupid bitch,” he hisses, clutching his hand over the wound on his stomach. I roll my eyes. You’d think he was auditioning for a movie role with his dramatics. I’ve seen people lose limbs and act less theatrical. It’s his fault he’s in this pain. Earlier, he offered to buy me a drink. I declined, as I always do. When I had turned twenty-one, my father had handed me a credit card and instructed me never to allow anyone but him to buy me alcohol. An hour later, the man cornered me on my walk to the restroom. His breath reeked of liquor, and he slurred his words while offering a drink for a second time. He attempted to push a glass into my hand, insisting I take it, but I refused again. In response, he grabbed my ass and shoved me into a secluded corner against the wall. My heartbeat raged as I snatched the drink from him, smashed the glass, and stabbed him with a sliver of it. “You grabbed my ass. I made you bleed.” I shrug and sarcastically smile. “Consider us even.” When I attempt to step around him, he blocks me. “I have a better idea to call it even.” He licks his chapped lips. I wrinkle my nose and go to push him away, but someone beats me to it. He cries out in agony, and his feet scrape against the floor when two guards drag him backward. The guards restrain the man as someone steps in front of them. My spine stiffens, and