<b>Chapter </b><b>156 </b>
<b>Saturday </b><b>lunch </b>with her sisters was supposed to be her chance to catch up with her older sisters and have baby cuddles from <b>Milles</b>. Since Sutton and ir had both married and started to grow their family, they hadn’t been as avable as before. She was happy for them<b>, </b><b>but </b>it made her realize that her friends‘ group had mostly consisted of her sisters. Other than that, she had work… which was pathetic.
She was d it was Saturday. She had a break from Alexei for a few days.
Or so she hoped, unfortunately that pipe dream wasn’t going to happen, her phone lighting up with another message… all from him.
Keira stabbed her sd with more aggression than it deserved.
“You okay?” Sutton asked, bouncing baby Miles gently in her arms.
ir snorted and lifted her tea. “She’s only spearing lettuce like it did something to her.”
Sutton’s mouth quirked. “The prince?”
“No. Justin Timbeke,” Keira deadpanned. “Yes, Prince Alexei. Of course, Prince Needs–To–Keep–His–Pants–On is driving me crazy. That man never steeps,” she nced at her phone, “-fourteen messagès reminding me about next week’s schedule and what needs to be done. Next week, Sutton.”
Baby Miles squawked like he agreed, smacking his hand against Keira’s arm with a proud chirp.
“See?” Keira said dryly. “Even Miles is over it. I’m thinking of quitting my job and I’m not a quitter.”
ir leaned back in her wicker chair, one hand resting on her small but unmistakable baby bump. She radiated that smug, radiant glow Keira liked to call “second–trimester superiority.”
“You knew it wasn’t going to be easy<i>,</i><i>” </i>ir said. “Up until now you have really loved it. What has changed?”
Keira couldn’t tell her sisters that since seeing his dick pic she had been thinking about what he might be like in bed, under him. In her mind it was time to get out before she made a mistake and destroyed thest of her self–respect. A man withmitment issues and rebelling against his father was thest thing she needed.
So instead, she said, “I hate rich men… excluding Roman and Luca of course. It doesn’t matter how royal or rich–deep down, they’re toddlers with bank ounts.”
Both of her sistersughed.
“You coulde work at Warners; I would love to have you on board,” ir offered.
Keira sighed and shoved her phone under a napkin. “Thanks for the offer but the fashion industry isn’t my thing. I just need Alexei <b>to </b><b>be </b><b>a </b>
toddler with a mute button.<b>” </b>
Sutton grinned, expertly wiping Miles’s drool with a single practiced swipe. “I still don’t understand why you haven’t left if you <b>feel </b><b>this </b>way. You have options, Keira.”
“Does he know how much he pisses you off? ir asked, sipping from her lemon tea.
“Oh, he does. He enjoys it. It’s like a new Olympic sport for him. Push every button 1 have<b>, </b>then grin when I explode. I am convinced <b>Alexei </b><b>is </b><b>a </b>certified sadist, possibly banned from at least three diplomatic conferences.”
irughed. “You think he gets off <b>on </b>your rage?”
<b>1/4 </b>
<b>Keira </b><b>blinked</b>. <b>“</b><b>I</b><b>–</b><b>do </b><b>not </b><b>want </b><b>to </b>unpack that sentence.”
<b>Sutton </b>smirked before saying, “It could be a little like pulling the pigtail of the girl you like at school.”
Keira gave her sisters an evil stare. “Don’t even go down that road, please.”
Sutton tilted her head. “Let me just point out: not all male attention is bad.”
“Yes, well,” Keira said, “while your husbands are out car shopping right now like upstanding, domestic cavemen, I’m being text–stalked during lunch.<b>” </b>
ir raised an eyebrow. “They’re not just car shopping. Luca and Roman are trying to one–up each other.”
Keira blinked. “Over what? Who gets the shinier ‘ser mom‘ SUV?”
Suttonughed. “Exactly. I’m rooting for Luca to bring back! something with 800 horsepower and Roman to sulk for a week.”
“They should start a YouTube channel,” Keira said. “Pimp My Pram: Dads Edition.”
Her phone buzzed again.
She groaned and didn’t even bother checking it.
“Is that him again?” ir asked.
“Most likely…” Keira did a dramatic voice, squinting like she could manifest the text. “It will be something along the line of… ‘Keira, don’t forget to update the Wystovia stock briefing. You’re probably too busy doing something unimportant like eating or breathing, but I require attention immediately.“”
Sutton giggled and then said in her big sister voice, “If you are not happy, get out now.”
Baby Miles let out a fart so loud it made the table pause.
“Preach,” Keira muttered.
Despite everything, the non–stop texts, the pressure, the stress, Keira felt her shoulders soften. This was her anchor. Her sisters, even their husbands, who were off hunting for shy SUVs.
“But I’m serious, Keira, set your boundaries with your <i>boss </i>and if he can’t follow them… get out. No job pays enough to work all the time.<b>” </b>Keira could see ir was concerned
<b>now</b><b><i>. </i></b>
“Thank you, I needed this,” she finally admitted.
“We’re sisters,” Sutton said, handing her cuddling rights to Miles. “It’s in the contract. No fine print. No refunds.”
Her sisters‘ words echoed in her mind. Boundaries. She needed to set boundaries. The constant texts<b>, </b>the midnight calls, the weeken interruptions–all of it had to stop. It made her think of Alexei too much and there was no break.
Her phone buzzed again. Fifteenth message. That was it.
“I need to go,” she said suddenly.
ir frowned. “What? But we haven’t even had dessert yet.”
<b>“</b><b>I </b>know, and I’m sorry. But if he’s going to ruin my Saturday, I’m going to ruin his<b>.</b><b>” </b>Keira grabbed her purse, determination <b>setting </b><b>her </b><b>jaw </b>into <b>a </b>hard line.
<b>Chapter </b><b>156 </b>
<b>Sutton </b><b>raised </b>an eyebrow. <b>“</b>What exactly are you nning<b>?</b><b>” </b>
<b>“</b><b>I’m </b><b>going </b>to his ce.<b>” </b>She was already halfway out of her chair. “He wants my attention? He’s <b>got </b>it. All of it.”
ir and Sutton exchanged a look that Keira pointedly ignored.
“Keira, maybe sleep on this?” ir suggested carefully. “You know how you get when you’re fired up.”
“How I get? You mean direct and honest? Yeah, that’s exactly what His Royal Over Lord needs right now.” She nted a quick kiss on Miles’s forehead. “Sorry, buddy. Auntie Keira’s got to go tell off a Dumbass.”
<b>“</b>This could end badly,” Sutton warned.
Keira shed a dangerous smile. “That’s kind of the point.”
Forty minutester she stormed through Alexei’s building, where the staff recognized her. One of Alexei’s security guards started to approach, then thought better of it when she red at him.
“Mitchell,” she addressed the head of security at the private elevator with a crisp nod. “I need to see His Royal Highness.”
“Miss Warner.” He hesitated. “His Highness isn’t expecting visitors.”
“Well, he’s expecting me whether he knows it or not.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Trust <i>me</i>, if you make me wait, the shouting will happen right here in this very public lobby.”
Mitchell sighed, pressing the button for the penthouse. “Your funeral.”
“My sanity more like,” she countered, stepping into the elevator.
On the ride up, Keira rehearsed her speech, the boundaries she would set, the way she’d make it crystal clear that her personal time was sacred. Especially time with her sisters.
The elevator doors opened directly into the penthouse foyer, and Keira marched in like she owned the ce.
“Your Royal Pain in the Ass!” she called out. “Where are you?”
Silence greeted her. Had he gone out? Maybe he wasn’t even home. That would be just perfect<b><i>, </i></b>she’d worked herself into a righteous <i>fury</i>, driven across town, and he was probably out with Bubble Butt Barbie 2.0. No, that wasn’t right…Mitchell would know if he wasn’t here.
“Hello?” She <i>moved </i>deeper into the expansive penthouse. “Alexei?<b>” </b>
The sound of running water caught her attention. Following it down the hallway, she found herself approaching the master suite. The door was slightly ajar, steam billowing out <i>from </i>the open door of the bathroom.
He was in the shower.
Keira paused, suddenly aware of <i>the </i>intimate territory she was invading. She should wait in the living room. That would be the <b><i>proper</i></b><b><i>, </i></b>professional thing to do.
But proper and professional had flown out the window somewhere around message number eight today. He didn’t care about her <b><i>personal </i></b>time, so <i>why </i>should she care about his?