The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

20 | Finally Giving In

Author's note: Hey readers! Just a heads-up—this chapter gets pretty intimate and close to the line of smut without fully crossing it. I wanted to give you a quick warning before you dive in, and hope you enjoy!

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Vi's POV
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"What do you think, princess?"

I held her gaze, the smirk slipping as the sarcasm slowly drained from my voice, leaving only a hollow edge.

"What do I think?" she snapped back, eyes flashing with a fire that matched mine. "I think you've been pretending to care, only to toss me aside—hand me back to her the second it suits you."

"That's the plan," I replied, clenching my jaw as I took a step closer. "I get you back to the Queen, I get my freedom. Simple."

"Simple?" She echoed, her expression clear disbelief. "That's what you call this? Showing me freedom, getting close to me, making me feel—" She stopped herself, her voice catching as if she revealed too much. "You know what? Forget it."

"No, go on," I pressed, moving in more. "What am I making you feel, Caitlyn? Enlighten me."

She shook her head, her arms crossing over her chest in a defensive posture. "It doesn't matter. Obviously none of this matters to you."

The tension between us was dangerous, the kind of weight you couldn't ignore even if you wanted to. Her gaze was blazing, burning into me like she was daring me to admit something I didn't have the words for.

"You knew what this was," I said, my voice low and steady. "I told you from day one what I had to do. Don't stand there acting like this is some grand betrayal, princess."

"Don't act like this isn't betrayal?" she spat, stepping closer now, her movements sharp and deliberate. "That's exactly what this is, Vi. You act like none of this matters. Like I don't matter. Like I'm just collateral damage in whatever deal you've made for yourself."

"You don't matter," I lied, the words harsher than I intended, but I couldn't take them back. I saw her face falter, her guard slipping just for a second before she recovered, her stance as unyielding as ever.

"Then why are you still hesitating?" she demanded, her voice cracking with frustration. "Why haven't you taken me back already? What are you waiting for, Vi? An invitation? A thank-you?"

I clenched my fists, feeling the anger bubble up, my pulse pounding in my ears. "Maybe I'm just waiting for you to quit complaining long enough to—"

"Do it, then!" she shouted, cutting me off as she stepped closer again. "Take me back! Hand me over! But stop pretending that this—" she gestured between us wildly, "—isn't more complicated than you're making it."

"It's not complicated, you're making it complicated!" I shot back, my feet moving before I even thought about it, closing the distance between us. "If I don't take you back, she'll kill you. She'll kill both of us."

She froze for a split second, her breath catching, but she didn't back down. She never did. Not from the fight in the alley, not from her mother's prison, and certainly not from me. We were inches apart now, her stubbornness glaring back at me, an unflinching mirror of my own. And yet, neither of us moved.

"It's always your way," she said, quieter this time, but her words hit harder for it. There was something different in her voice, something more vulnerable. "Your decision. Your freedom. Your stupid pride."

I opened my mouth to snap back, to tell her she didn't know a damn thing about me—but her eyes held me there, sharp as a blade. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, and for a split second, I couldn't tell if I was angry or something else entirely.