Chapter 2 No.2

Estrea, Europe

Grayson Pierce skipped up the stairs of his penthouse suite in downtown Estrea, a small sovereign European nation. Tired from the pressures of being a Prince of Estrea, he just wanted to go home and relax. Being the next in line to the throne didn't come without responsibility.

As he walked in, he hoped that Dima, his fiancé, wasn't home, at least not for a while. Grayson needed a few moments to decompress before having to deal with her. Although he loved her, she was Dima Franz, the premier supermodel in Europe. And if she was home, there would surely be some ego stroking needed to pacify her. Even though he loved her, she was spoiled and a lot of work.

His father, King Maxwell Pierce, had been badgering him to "be done with her" and "settle down", but Grayson wasn't ready. He chuckled to himself, wondering what his father would think if he married Dima. At least it would get him off his back for marrying but would open up a whole new can of worms. A part of Grayson thought that it might actually be worth it. But despite what his father bellowed, Grayson wasn't about to give in so easily. Although he was a prince and his life had been mapped out for both he and his younger brother, Xavier, since they were born, he still wanted to make his own decisions when it concerned his life.

"Dima! I'm home!" he yelled, walking through the apartment. He laid his car keys on the bar and poured himself a drink. Scotch on the rocks. Usually, he mixed his drinks with something, but on this day, he needed a good stiff drink. His cousin, Marcus Pierce, was causing trouble, trying to sway public opinion to make him the legitimate ruler instead. His father, Albert, was Maxwell's twin. Maxwell had been born two minutes before Albert, making him the next in line for the throne. Grayson smirked, amazed that two minutes could shape a life so entirely. Albert had been fine with it, but his son, Marcus, was another story. Grayson wished that Marcus would just give up and accept that it was the way things were in their country.

Yes, Grayson knew well that two minutes could make or break a life.

Grayson hit a button and the fireplace roared to life, something that never ceased to amaze him. No more building fires like the cavemen. Nope. the only thing modern man had to do was to hit one button and... poof! Instant fire. Shaking his head, he sat in his favorite overstuffed, leather chair, happy to have a moment alone.

Usually, he didn't watch much television, but something told him to turn on the news. He hit the button on the remote, and it blared to life. Grayson set down the remote and rose from his chair to make another drink, not paying attention to the news that was on. But then something, or rather someone, caught his attention. Grayson huffed as he turned his attention toward the unmistakable voice coming from the television.

"The reigning family of Estrea is an embarrassment, I tell you! It's time for new leadership!" Marcus's grainy voce bellowed through the speakers. "Grayson, the Crown Prince, has not yet married. He's a playboy and will probably never settle down! He's had a very public string of unsuitable women...." His voice droned on to the point that Grayson could take no more and turned off the set, vowing to deal with his cousin tomorrow. Whether or not Marcus realized it, what he was speaking of was treason. And if he kept it up, Grayson would have him arrested and treated like the traitor that he is. It was hard for Grayson to believe that the man was his cousin. He would have thought that Marcus would put his family and country's welfare above his own. But he wasn't that kind of man.

When the television was off, Grayson heard something... a noise... coming from the bedroom.

He wasn't alone.

Grayson slowly grabbed the cast iron poker from the fireplace and headed down the hallway, knowing there had to be an intruder in the house. If Dima was home, she would have greeted him when he came in.

He held the poker at his side, ready in case he needed it for protection. The noise grew louder as he neared the bedroom door. Then he stopped... and listened.

His heart sank.

Grayson flung the door open and it hit the bedroom wall, startling Dima and the man under her. Dima's eyes widened as she looked directly at Grayson. Naked and straddling the man, her short, dark brown hair in her eyes and wet with sweat, she said only one word, "Grayson...."

Grayson lowered the poker and closed his eyes, willing the image of Dima with another man from his mind. His eyes flew open when he saw a flash through his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes, Dima flew off the bed, grabbed some clothes, and locked herself in the bathroom, leaving her accomplice to fend for himself.

"Get out!" Grayson yelled at the man.

"Chill, guy. Give me a chance to get dressed." The man smirked, unaffected as he slowly and calmly sat on the edge of the bed, completely naked.

Grayson's eyes flared as he stepped in front of him. "Now!" he yelled into his face, his grip tightening on the poker without realizing it.

The man quickly jumped to his feet, grabbed his clothes, and ran out the door, not bothering to put them on as Grayson chased him out.

Grayson stormed back into the penthouse, replaced the poker by the fireplace, and calmly watched the fire.

"I'm... I'm... I'm so sorry...." Dima stammered behind him, but Grayson didn't even turn around.

"I want you out of here now. You can send for your things later." His voice was calm as he watched the fire, his heart turning to ice.

A moment later, quiet footsteps padded toward the door, then it opened and softly closed behind her, leaving Grayson behind to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart... alone.