I'm Raising Royal Babies {ORIGINAL VERSION; BOOK 3}

Chapter 34: From First Impressions to I Love You

WARNING: A lot of feels and throwbacks are in this chapter. You have been warned.

Btw, don't expect me to update tomorrow guys. I wrote this in one night because I was overly excited.

Chapter 34: From First Impressions to I Love You

Vincent

I've been fuming all day, since lunch earlier today. If my parents weren't going to get over my promiscuous way of living, then how the hell do they expect me to grow out of it. Therapy wouldn't do a damn thing. I hated therapy and they knew exactly how I was when it came to it. This was nothing new.

"Fucking cunts," I hissed as my eyes landed on my nightstand's lamp. I inhaled deeply, hoping it'll calm me down, but it had such a little effect on me that I eventually found myself mentally questioning why the hell I was doing it.

I grabbed the lamp and flung it directly toward my bedroom door, wishing that it was my parents that I was throwing it at. No more partying my ass!

"Fuck you," I bellowed, frowning at the oak surface of the door. I glared heatedly at the door for a while before releasing an irritable exhale. As I turned away from the door, a faint knock resonated on the other side. "Who the fuck is it," I shouted, snapping my head back to the door.

"Your Royal Highness, I was sent to deliver your tea," a strong, yet feminine voice replied steadily.

"I don't want any tea," I retorted, clenching and unclenching my red fists.

"Sir, can you just open the door," the woman said, impatiently.

"If you wanted to come in so bad, you could just open it yourself," I shot back.

She was silent on the other side, that is, before the door opened slowly. A short, brown skinned woman stepped into the room. Her hair was held up in a neat bun, bringing out her oval shaped face and pouty lips. I ignored the obvious, irate frown on her plain face as my eyes scanned over her body. She was voluptuous, in a slim way. But the unflattering uniform the maid wore did little to conceal the blatant curves from her waist and hips.

"Are you okay?"

I snapped my eyes back to her face to see that the annoyed glare was gone and replaced with a look of concern. I raised a brow at her.

"I'm asking because of how crazy you got out there," she elaborated. Her voice held so much... power, as if she was saying a freedom speech.

"I'm fine," I said, hardening my expression.

"No you're not," she countered, stepping closer to me. I strangely felt a sense of inferiority with every step she took.

"How the fuck are you going to tell me? I always act like that," I raged, balling up my fists.

She sat the tray of tea at the bottom of my bed before giving me a dubious look. "That isn't a good thing, Your Highness," she said, calmly.

I didn't like where this conversation was headed. I wasn't going to have some black, foreign maid tell me what the hell to do with my life. "Do you want to have sex with me or something? Is that why you're really here?" I changed the subject as I laughed sardonically.

"No. I just came to give you your tea and seeing how pissed you were earlier, you seemed like you needed someone to talk to," she defensively said.

I sighed in annoyance. "Look...," I trailed off, waiting for her to give me her name, but she hadn't.

"What," she asked, shrugging her lean shoulders.