16. Flynn

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Every girl pretends she is a princess at one point, no matter how little her life is like that.
—Alex Flinn, Beastly (Beastly, #1; Kendra Chronicles, #1)


"Wow," Ian says for about the fifth time in forty seconds as he follows me down the corridor to my room

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"Wow," Ian says for about the fifth time in forty seconds as he follows me down the corridor to my room. "I mean, I knew you were rich but holy bananas, I didn't know you were this rich."

I fake a nonchalant shrug. "Perks of having a father that owns a modeling agency, has his own clothing line and has investments in other fashion lines all over the fashion industry, I guess."

"Wow," Ian murmurs yet again and it seems to me that he's suddenly incapable of speech.

I step into my room and pause as I take in the number of maids cleaning up the place. Juliet... (I think that's her name but really whatshername) is busy laying my bed while two others are arranging a long table with various trays of snacks and drinks.

I try to keep my temper in check. "What the actual fuck?" ...I fail. "Didn't I tell you to leave the bed to me?"

Juliet quickly steps away from the bed like she's been scalded. I suppress the urge to growl by pinching the bridge of my nose and the other two maids quickly step away from the table of food, shooting me with wary looks.

"Out," I snap finally. "Leave. Don't disturb us."

With quick nods, they quickly walk towards the door and I sigh, moving out of the way in order to avoid getting run over. I pull Ian in with me and they freeze at the sight of a guy in my room that is definitely not a teenager.

Juliet (I really should ask her for her name) stares up at Ian with wide eyes. My anger dissolves into nothing as the other two look at Ian's tattooed arms with barely concealed fear. I place a palm over my mouth to stifle the laughter bubbling at the back of my throat.

Ian blinks down at them. He looks awkward, probably not familiar with the way he's being looked at. "Um, hi?"

Juliet gulps but says nothing. The other two copy her. They also don't make a move to leave the room, looking torn like they'd rather stay here and monitor Ian. Monitor Ian and I.

The laughter I've been actively suppressing dies because of this. Why are they staring at him like that? What's wrong with them? Don't they know that he's the same guy that basically popped a vein when I didn't wait for a green light?

Before I can open my mouth in order to give them instructions to eloquently "fuck out of my room", something like irritation passes across Ian's face.

I sigh and shake my head, letting go of his hand and walking towards my bed. Ian is back on default mode and while it'll be funny to watch him be an absolute bastard to the maids, I still have to set up the movies we'll watch.

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