"Love kills, hey, drills you through your heart
Love kills, tears you right apart
It won't let go, it won't let go
Love kills, yeah"
--
Queen, "Love kills"
It's been twelve years since Prince adopted his granddaughter. Emmeline is a sixteen-year-old...
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The next morning.
When Prince woke up, he felt his head explode in a moment. He massaged the occiput and then noticed a glass of water and two aspirin on the table. He winced and quickly took the tablets. Prince blinked and then sank into a large, fluffy pillow.
Fuck, I exaggerated with alcohol yesterday.
Suddenly there was a knock. Prince frowned and put a hand on his forehead.
Go away, fuck.
Someone knocked on and Prince said annoyed:
— Come in, who the hell you are!
The door opened and Kirk stood in the doorway. Prince sighed in displeasure and asked:
— What is going on? Can you come back later?
—I'm afraid not, boss — Kirk frowned and leaned against the doorframe.
—What is the meaning of your serious face?— Prince asked sarcastically. — I am in terrible condition and I need peace.
—I wouldn't disturb you — Kirk began. —But the matter is delicate.
—Delicate, you say — Prince snorted. —What happened? Did this fucking Moody conclude that his party cost him a lot? If so, tell him I will write him a decent check tomorrow. And let him fuck with this stupid yacht. If I want, I can have fifteen.
Kirk rolled his eyes and said:
— The matter is different. It's about Emmeline.
—Has she caused trouble?— Prince closed his eyes. — If so, I'll talk to her tomorrow.
—No — Kirk sighed. — You caused trouble.
— Can I hear it right?— Prince opened his eyes and sat down. He looked at Kirk angrily. —What do you mean, man?
— She saw you yesterday— Kirk explained. —When you and Tabitha came back from the guest room.
— WHAT? — Prince felt his headache leave him.— What the fuck are you saying ?!
—She slipped out into the corridor — Kirk muttered. — And then you and Tabitha came out of the elevator.
—Did Emmeline say what she saw exactly?
—She didn't want to talk with me — Kirk shook his head. —But you didn't look good.
— So what did I look like?— Prince felt cold sweat pouring over him.
— Honestly?
— YES.
— Well, you looked like you were getting dressed right after sex. Unbuttoned shirt, unbuttoned fly.
