How to Love a Prince

ONE

Roselia

The night air was thick with salt and the distant hum of the ship’s engines—I find it cute how this cruise doesn’t sail, they just cater events. I exhaled shakily, rubbing my arms as I stepped onto the dock.

“Let your soul find the perfect sky to soar in.”

I am listening to one of Alistair’s hit songs, and the lyrics were—I must say, like what I expected to be: poetic, relatable, and runs along the beat like a perfect sync. That was it’s supposed to be…my impression of him should’ve stayed beautiful.

“But make no mistake, Perignon—you may be stepping into my world, but you can’t and will never belong here.”

Ironically, his true self was this—a complete opposite of what drives his fans obsessed with him. He is a total jerk, a pure demon, and a shameless man who knows no bounds when it comes to using his appearance, words, and money to put people in their place.

My shift was over, my uniform was stiff with dried champagne, and my body ached from hours of work. But none of that mattered now. My mind was spinning with the impossible conversation I’d had with Alistair Deveraux.

Thirty million.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost, little waitress."

I was startled at the voice and turned to see him—he was the man who led me to Alistair. He leaned against the railing at the pier’s edge, watching me with a smirk. His brownish hair is tied in a man bun, looking like a delinquent in his improperly worn suit, tanned skin, and sly looking blue eyes.

“Why? Did the talk with my boss gave you nothing?” he chuckled. “Look like I’ve bet too much in you.”

I stepped back, wary about him. But instead of taking my caution as a sign to back off, he simply grinned and walked over. “After giving you a shot to that money you wanted, you’re going to avoid me like some plague? I’m hurt.” He said, sounding nothing hurting.

"T-the talk went well," I said cautiously, shifting my weight as I looked around, making sure no one is around to hear us. "What are you doing here? And what’s your name?"

He raised his brow at me and his eyes widened a little, an amused expression on his face. “Nice. Those id*ots owe me a hundred each.” He chuckled to himself, making my brows furrow.

But before I could ask what he means, he offered me his hand. “Lucien Dwight.” When he spoke of his name, I gave him my hand, but to my surprise, he held it and kissed my knuckles. “At your service, future princess.”

"Anyways, I’m just here to check up on you since you must be in shock." He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I already prepared a mocking speech in case you got rejected. But d*mn, looks like I’ll be serving you in the near future.”

I stiffened at choice of words—'serve’. "I don’t even know what I should do next." I mumbled looking away. “All he said was I’ll meet him tomorrow morning, that’s all.”

His smirk deepened. "That’s just how he is, so pop the delusions that he’s some perfect superstar that’ll sweep you off your feet like the prince everyone portrays him to be."

I swallowed. "And what if I don’t?"

Lucien tilted his head, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. "Then I’d say you’d have a much bigger problem than us."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He didn’t get a chance to answer. A sudden, sharp whistle cut through the night.

I turned, dread settling in my stomach as I saw them. Three men, walking toward me from the shadows of the alleyway leading out of the dock.

Enzo the leader, Vick the right hand, and Benji the front man. The loan sharks.

My pulse hammered as they closed in. Lorenzo, as usual, was dressed in his usual dark coat, hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. Vick was to his left, massive and brutish, cracking his knuckles. Benji, smaller but sharp-eyed, grinned as if he already knew how this would end.

Lucien barely glanced at them. "Friends of yours?"

I clenched my fists. "Not in the slightest."

Lorenzo stopped a few feet away, taking his time as he raked his gaze over me. "Roselia," he drawled. "You’re late."

"I still have time," I said quickly. "Tomorrow midnight, that was the deal."

Vick sneered. "You think we trust you to keep your word?"

"I won’t run away like my parents did," I snapped. "I don’t have the money yet, but I will." As much as I want to grovel and ask for them to not scare me anymore, the smallest hint of pride that I have as a woman would’ve allow myself to be debased while someone like Lucien is watching me.

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "That’s not how this works, sweetheart. See, you don’t make the rules. We do. And we don’t like waiting."

I took a step back, but Benji was already circling to my side, cutting off my escape. My heart pounded.

Lucien sighed dramatically. "Well, this is inconvenient. I was hoping for a peaceful night." casually, he pulled out a d*gger out of nowhere and moved behind me, swiftly swinging it which immediately caused Benji to move back and create some distance.

Lorenzo finally seemed to acknowledge him, his expression cooling. "Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" Lucien smiled lazily. "Just a concerned citizen."

Benji snorted. "Yeah? You concerned enough to pay her debt?" his words made his mates chuckle.

Lucien let out a low whistle. "Now, now. That’s between her and my employer. You know who Alistair Deveraux is, don’t you?"

The name sent a ripple of recognition through the group. Lorenzo’s smirk faltered. Vick stopped cracking his knuckles. Benji’s grin faded.

Lucien leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "Well, funny thing—Roselia here? She’s about to be his wife. And I don’t think he’d be too pleased if his fiancée got roughed up by a bunch of low-rent street thugs."

The air grew tense.

Lorenzo studied me, then Lucien. His jaw tightened. "You better not be lying."

"By all means," Lucien gestured. "Feel free to check. Call up your boss, make some inquiries. You can even check on the arena. But if I were you, I’d be careful. Alistair’s a bit... possessive."

Vick shifted uncomfortably. Benji ran a hand through his hair.

Lorenzo exhaled harshly, shaking his head. "Tomorrow midnight, Roselia." His voice was colder now. "If this is a trick, it won’t just be your debt we’ll collect."

I swallowed. "I understand."

Without another word, the three of them turned and disappeared into the night.

I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling at my sides.

Lucien chuckled. "You’re welcome, by the way."

I turned to him, still trying to calm my heartbeat. "Why did you help me?" when I spoke, I stepped closer to keep his attention on me. “What arena? And why will you use Alistair’s name? I’m not his wife yet, so you shouldn’t just go around and tell people-”

“Calm down, little waitress.” He gave me a lopsided grin “You’re too chatty like d*mn, you remind me of my sisters." He shook his head in amusement.

“You’ll know everything soon.” He sheathed his d*gger back to his hips, and then raised his hands in surrender as he started walking backwards. “A piece of advice, you should keep this memory in mind. Because your future husband’s not just a star that people should ask autographs for.”

I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly is he, then?"

Lucien winked. "That’s for you to find out." With that, he turned and jogged away, disappearing after turning to the left.

Now alone, I stood there like I’m waiting for lightning to strike me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mumbling to myself, I just heaved a deep breath and started walking out, leaving all my worries to the wind.