"You're already dead. You just haven't stopped breathing yet." Kaeren shrugged.
What happened next was too fast to see. A blur of black leather, the sound of breaking bone, and the lead debtor was screaming on the ground with his knife arm bent at an impossible angle.
"Run," the older man, whom I now recognized as the one standing behind Kaeren during the interview, growled.
The thugs didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled, dragging their broken leader away into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood in the mud.
Drodd and Imogen rushed out. I gagged when I saw their faces instantly shifting from terror to a disgusting, fawning greed. They didn't even look at Tasha, who was sobbing on the ground.
"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!" Imogen cried, trying to straighten her hair. "Those animals! Those useless cowards! You saved our daughter!"
I didn't wait to hear the rest. Panic overtook me.
He must have seen me. He saw the blood. He's here for the stabbing. He's here to take me to the gallows.
I turned and bolted back into the shack, diving into the shadows of the hallway. I crawled into my closet-room, pulling the thin mattress over me as if it could hide me from an Alpha's senses.
"Wave, he's coming inside. I can smell him. He's in the living room. He's... he's talking to them." Pia shakily whispered.
Oh, my dear sweet Pia, we are so DEAD! I shuddered.
I held my breath. The silence of the shack was suddenly more terrifying than the screaming. I heard the heavy thud of boots on the rotting floorboards. I heard Imogen's sugary and fake voice, and Drodd's eager murmurs.
I pressed my ear against the rotting wood of the closet door. Through the gaps in the planks, the living room looked like a stage play from hell.
The Prince—I still couldn't wrap my head around it—stood in the center of our filth as if he were standing on a balcony overlooking the city. Drodd and Imogen were vibrating with fear and oily opportunism.
"We are so grateful, sir," Imogen chirped, her voice hitting a register that made my teeth ache. "Those men... they were monsters! We are just a poor, struggling family trying to make ends meet."
Kaeren turned to her. "Struggling? And how much does a struggling family owe the Syndicate?"
"Oh, it's a mountain! Three months... maybe four! And the interest! We had to take out a loan for Tasha's modeling portfolio, you see. A girl with her beauty shouldn't be wasted in the shacks." Drodd cried.
I felt a surge of heat crawl up my neck. I was the one who had spent eighteen hours a day scrubbing public toilets to pay for that 'portfolio' while they called me a burden.
"I'm willing to help," Kaeren said, though he sounded like he was discussing the weather. "I'll pay every dime. In full."
WHAT?
The room went dead silent for a minute before the noises gushed.
"Every dime?" Alex suddenly reappeared from under the couch, his face flushed with greed. "We need a new car too! A luxury sedan! Something that doesn't rattle when it hits a pothole!"
"And jewelry! I need diamonds for the gala season! And a designer wardrobe! If we're going to be rich, I need to look the part!" Tasha added, clutching her hair as if she were already being crowned.
"A penthouse!" Imogen shrieked, her hands flying to her face. "In the Mid-District! No, the High Class! We deserve to live near the Palace!"
It was disgusting. Shameless. They were listing off luxuries while the blood from the supervisor was still drying on my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified that this man—a Prince—was witnessing the hollow, greedy rot of the only 'family' I had.
"Enough," Leah interjected. She was the only one looking at Kaeren with something other than dollar signs in her eyes. "Who are you? Why would you give us so much money?"
"Who cares why, Leah! If a man wants to be a saint, let him!" Drodd barked, swatting the air toward her.
Kaeren's man stepped forward. He pulled back his shoulders, his voice booming in the tiny space. "You are addressing His Royal Highness, Prince Kaeren Evermont, heir to the Alpha's throne.
The room froze. Then, a cackle broke the tension.
"The Prince?" Drodd doubled over, clutching his stomach. "And I'm the Alpha! And my wife here is the Luna! Look at him, he's wearing a hoodie!"
Alex scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, and I'm his big brother. Pull the other one, pal. This is the Outer District, not a comedy club."
Tasha giggled, tossing her hair. "A Prince in a shack? Maybe in those cheesy romance novels Waverly reads, but not in real life."
Leah, however, didn't laugh. She pulled out her cracked smartphone, her thumbs flying across the screen. A second later, her face went as white as a sheet. She turned the phone toward the room.
The screen showed a high-definition photo of Kaeren in his full royal regalia.
The laughter died so fast it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Drodd's jaw hit the floor. Imogen let out a choked sound and immediately dropped to her knees, dragging her hem across the dirty linoleum.
"Your Highness!" Imogen wailed, her voice now a high-pitched grovel. "Oh, forgive us! We didn't know! We thought... oh, please, enter! Sit! Tasha, get the Prince some water! No, wine! Do we have wine?"
The shift was nauseating. Tasha, seeing her chance, didn't get water. She smoothed her crop top, arched her back, and walked toward Kaeren with a slow sway of her hips.
"Oh, Your Highness," she purred, actually sliding onto his lap before he could protest. "I've always dreamed of meeting a real hero. I'm sure a man like you gets lonely in that big palace…"
Before she could finish, Austin grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her off Kaeren as if she were a piece of stray luggage, setting her down five feet away with a thud.
"Sit," Austin commanded. Tasha pouted, but the look in his eyes made her stay put.
"I never imagined my Tasha knew the Prince personally," Imogen lied through her teeth, her eyes darting toward the closet where I was hiding. "She's such a social butterfly. Is that why you're here, Your Highness? To take Tasha to the Palace?"