┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Game

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Chapter 6: Game (Spencer's POV)

When I came back into the castle, I saw that Ms. Sunny was making sure that everything was clean and double-checking her work. Then the phone started ringing. I pushed the door shut behind me, catching her attention. 

She stood there, staring at me. 

I blinked away, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand, making sure tear stains weren't visible. "Won't you answer the phone?" I cleared my throat. 

"I think the phone can wait. Are you all right?" She took a step forward but stopped when I did the same and walked right past her and to the telephone. 

I picked it up, the cord dangling. "Hello?" 

"What a surprise, you never answer the phone," he snickered.

I rolled my eyes, my jaw clenched. I just shouldn't have fucking answered it. 

"I was hoping you would. I have news for you." 

"Didn't we already do this earlier today?" 

"Don't be so cold, Spencer. I'm your father." 

I bit back a scoff and asked, "What is it now?" 

"I thought I should let you know, Nico and I sent out invitations throughout Everton for a ball at your castle." 

"Excuse me?" 

"I told you earlier today, didn't I? You need to get married. It's an announcement ball that you're hosting for yourself. We did it all on your behalf, won't you thank me?" 

I don't have the energy to fight with him after the day I've had. 

"We sent out the invitations already. They'll all be given by tomorrow morning. The ball is this Friday. So, make sure Sunny prepares your castle well, hmm?" 

There's no point in arguing about it, it's too late for me to say no, the invitations are out already. "Okay," I mumbled. "I'll play your fucking game." 

He chuckled dryly. "See you then, son." 

"Don't call me that, Giovanni." 

"What did you call me?" 

"Your name. Why? Shall I call you something worse? Something like—" 

He hung up quickly. 

I laughed dryly, putting the phone down with more force than necessary. I will play his game and I will win it. I'll find the best bride I can, and I will prove to him and Nico that this castle is and always will be mine. They can do whatever they want in an attempt to take it from me, but I won't let it happen. My mother left this to me, it's mine to keep, rightfully so. 

I turned to Ms. Sunny. "Is everything all right?" She looked at me doubtfully. 

It's Wednesday. Ah, shit... "Prepare the castle for a ball, Ms. Sunny." 

"W-what? A ball?" 

"Yes," I nodded, tucking my hands into my pockets. "Since my father and brother have been nice enough to send out invitations on my behalf for an announcement ball, we must now prepare." 

She frowned in confusion, "What kind of announcement?" 

"Well, Ms. Sunny." I scratched the back of my head. "I guess I'm getting married." 

I will play this game and I will fucking win it. There's no other way for this to end. 

Her eyes widened but I didn't let her say a word. "As for dinner, I'm not that hungry tonight. Just... leave something for me in the fridge, or... I don't know," I sighed in exhaustion. 

"You've been crying," she said softly. 

I nodded, looking at the ceiling. "I always cry when I visit her, don't I?" 

She looked at me with a look of pity which I've learned to accept, no matter how much I hate it. 

"Goodnight, Ms. Sunny. Please pack everything up quickly and head to the staff quarters. I'd like to be alone." 

"Okay," she nodded, grabbing her feather duster and leaving to tell the staff to be on their way, wrapping everything early tonight. 

I need a drink. A strong one. Not antique, over expensive ones. I glanced at the clock. It's nearly 8 PM. I went up to my room where I changed out of the button-up and trousers, into black joggers and a white v-neck. I lay in bed and decided to read something for a while, settling on The Secret Garden. Yes, the children's novel. But I settled on it because my mom used to read it to me as a kid. 

I read for at least fifteen minutes and then stood up, walking to my window. I could see that the lights of the backyard were now off, which meant that all the staff was in their own quarters. I put the book on my desk and grabbed the car keys. I walked out of my room, turning the lights off on my way, and headed to the main doors. I unlocked them and then jogged over to my car, climbing in quickly and driving to the gates, meeting the two new guards again. 

He bowed his head quickly before opening the gates. 

My second car was finally back from the repair so if needed, Mr. Neil could use that too. Because chances are, I'll be drunk again tonight. I started driving into town, turning the radio on and letting the music play faintly while I drove the red convertible Cadillac that was once my mum's. I spent the hour-long drive unwinding and enjoying the breeze as best as I could. My hair was blowing with the wind, falling over my eyes, going back and forth. 

I ran a hand through it, resting one elbow on the window while steering the wheel with my other hand, stepping a little harder on the gas. When I got closer to town, I started slowing down and beeped my horn once before turning right, just in case someone was on that road. It's the right thing to do, rather than expecting them to beep. I got into town and pulled the roof of the car up along with the windows, heading to that same bar. Where Daisy- no. Delilah works. 

I looked around at the market which was only now closing up. I drove through that and reached the street which had bar after bar, boutique after boutique, restaurant after restaurant, all on the same sidewalk. I slowed down to a stop at their glowing 'Mirage' sign. I parked the car and turned it off, climbing out while pocketing the keys after locking the car. I walked to the glass door and pulled it open, taking a look around as the bell chimed over my head. I walked to a free table and sat down. 

Table thirteen again. I guess the unlucky number likes me, huh? 

I grabbed the menu, deciding on what to get before I started spinning it from its edge. 

"Prince Spencer?" 

I looked up, blinking. "Hmm?" 

She stared down at me, blinking a few times slowly. 

"It's you," I mumbled. 

She nodded, "Uh, yeah. I work here." She cleared her throat, looking at her notepad. "I'm Delilah, I'll be your waitress this evening, what can I get you?" 

I glanced at the menu another time. "I'll take a burger with fries and a beer." 

"A burger with fries and a milkshake," she nodded. 

"No, a beer." 

"That's what I said, a milkshake." 

I looked at her, frowning. "I said—" 

"A milkshake." She shot me a pointed look. 

"Excuse me?" I chuckled dryly. 

She smiled, "You don't handle alcohol well." 

"I do." 

She shook her head. "Not really. So, which milkshake will it be? Chocolate, strawberry, vanilla? I'd recommend the strawberry, with extra whipped cream," she said, whispering the last bit. 

"Fine. A strawberry milkshake, with a side of..." 

She lifted a brow at me. "Me?" 

I smiled fakely, "No. But your conversation, yes." 

She blinked in confusion. "You want to talk to me?" 

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" 

"I'm working, sir." 

"Then take a break." 

"I can't." 

"Sure you can." 

She sighed and looked over at the owner before tucking her pen behind her ear. "All right. I'll be back with your meal." She walked through the back and then came back out, talking to the owner. 

I stared at the empty booth seat across from me and rested my arms on the table, putting my chin down on top and just staring ahead. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking about what I'll do this Friday evening when someone poked my arm. 

"Hello," she sang and I sat up, pulling my arms down. "Your order." She set the plate and milkshake in front of me before slipping into the seat across from me and putting the tray in front of her. "What can I do for you?" 

He said I need to get married. He didn't say it has to be a rich girl or another princess. This waitress and flower delivery girl seems like she could help. If not marry me, then she must know some girls in this pathetic town. 

"I want to make an order. For flowers." 

She sighed, "I don't take the orders from Bloom House, you should contact the owner for that." She drummed her fingers on the tray, looking at her hands. 

"I want a bouquet delivered to my castle every single day. I want it delivered by you." 

Her eyes flicked up to mine. "Me?" 

"Hmm," I nodded, eating a fry. "I'll pay you 200 nova every day for every delivery." 

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed just a bit. 

"You seem useful." 

"For what?" 

"Something," I shrugged, giving her an innocent smile when she looked at me skeptically. 

"You want me to bike up there every single day and bring you a bouquet?" 

I nodded again. "Can you do that, Delilah?" 

She chuckled dryly, looking around the bar. 

"Delilah!" A customer called out from their table. 

She looked over the booth and at the poker table where all the men were waving her over. She groaned before turning back to me. "Which flowers?" 

"Surprise me. Every single day, surprise me." 

She looked at me in confusion while trying to solve a puzzle. "You intrigue me, Prince Spencer." She slid out of the booth and stood up, tucking the tray under her arm and pulling out a notepad from her back pocket. 

"I thought I would," I admitted, sipping on the milkshake. It is incredibly sweet, good god. 

"I'll think about it," she finally said. "Anything else?" 

I shook my head. 

She nodded slowly. "Enjoy your dinner, then." She walked over to the poker table and I watched as she plastered a huge, pleasing grin onto her face and started listening to everything the men were telling her, taking more orders, listening to poker talk. She caught one of the men staring at her and asked him something, lifting a brow daringly. 

He stopped staring. 

She rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen, giving the next order. She came back out, standing behind the bar, talking to one of her coworkers. She listened to what the other girl was saying before slowly looking over at me. She looked back at her friend, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. I could practically hear the conversation just by looking at them. 

He's staring at you. 

No, he isn't. 

Take a look. Maybe he likes you. 

She cut me another glance and then got back to work, saying a final word to her friend. 

No, he doesn't.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 6

Oh, but he does... doesn't he?

next chapter: invitation