The Rejected Principessa Returns novel Chapter 23

Chapter 3

I stayed.

At first I wanted to slip away and let these idiots find their own doom, but the Porsche was legally mine even if Derek was driving, and Tessa and her friends were just freeloaders in my car-if anyone pressed charges, I’d be dragged in.

So I hung back and watched, hoping for a chance to explain things to the other driver.

They stormed up to the damaged car like a pack on the hunt, and Derek followed close behind.

I kept a careful distance, ready to run the second things went sideways.

Tessa kicked the other car’s door and screamed at the window, “Can’t you see you hit a Porsche? Get out here and pay up, I’m not playing! It’s no joke!”

I almost laughed-she’d never even asked the real driver a thing-but then the other car’s door opened and a

young man stepped out, mask and shades on.

He was tall and thin, nothing like the TV version of Vincent Crowe, but anyone with ties to Crowe was still

trouble, so I dared to underestimate him.

Seeing only one person inside, Tessa grew bolder; she jabbed the bat at him and demanded, “Pay up-one

million, not a cent less.”

This was my moment; I pulled Tessa back and stepped forward to speak for us. “That car’s mine,” I said. “My boyfriend was driving and caused the accident-this was our fault. There’s no need for compensation.”

Then I pointed at Tessa and her two friends. “These three were just riding in my car and they started this-I

didn’t stop them in time; I apologize.”

A few calm sentences and I’d severed my connection to them.

Tessa shoved me aside, furious. “Your car? Big deal! I’ve got a concussion from that crash-he owes me

medical bills.”

She thrust her hand at the masked man. “Pay up now, or I’m not being nice.”

Her friends chanted, “Pay up!” in a chorus.

The man didn’t flinch or cow; instead he tilted his head and asked coolly, “So it was you who threw bottles

and sprayed my car?”

He sounded young, but he carried a presence beyond his years-calm, unflappable, like someone used to a

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lot of eyes on him.

Tessa sneered. “Yeah, I smashed a bottle and we peed on your car, so what?”

“Don’t honk at me like that,” she scoffed. “You think you can take me on?”

Her friends jumped in, “We helped-say one more word and we really will get it all over you!”

The man pinched his nose in mock disgust, then said, low and steady, “Don’t think numbers make you untouchable; my dashcam feeds straight to my dad’s phone-everything’s been recorded.”

“If I were you,” he went on, “I’d run, not threaten me.”

Hearing that-not backing down and basically daring them-Tessa exploded.

She swung the bat and cracked it into his face, cursing, “You think you’re so special? Call your dad- I’ll beat

him too!”

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