Penelope POV
"Get the hell away from my gates," I spit, slamming my phone onto the marble console.
The glass screen cracks. I do not care. The vibration of the reporters chanting outside my villa rumbles right through the floorboards, straight into the soles of my boots.
"Princess Penelope, did you pay the hitman in cash or pack bonds?"
The question cuts through the heavy oak doors. It is a rookie voice, loud, desperate, and stupid.
I pull my leather jacket over my shoulders. My knuckles are white. My nails dig into my palms until the skin splits.
Hazel wants a war. Julian wants to play the blind protector. They think because they have a few cameras and a microphone, they can corner the Queen of the Rogue Pack.
I throw the front doors open.
The morning sun is hot, but the wall of f
