Beneath Her Bastard Boss

Chapter 154

Alexei had known this party would be boring before he even turned up.

Rich people stood around pretending they weren’t about to talk shit the moment your back turned. And the women? They flocked like peacocks in glitter and stilettos, beaming like landing lights, hoping the world’s most notorious royal bachelor would single them out. He wasn’t up himself. It was just a fact of life when you were royal.

God, he could walk around with a brown paper bag over his head and women would still want him.

Of course, he didn’t disappoint. He never did. Alexei, the second son and second in line to King Theodore, always gave the crowd a good show.

Even if he was barely paying attention.

“…so I said, ‘You really like your yacht that much? Why don’t you marry it?“” the blonde beside him said breathlessly, her laugh like broken glass.

He blinked, vaguely realizing she was telling a story. Possibly about herself. Probably not very well.

“Mmh,” he said in response, taking a too–long sip of champagne, wishing it was scotch. It did nothing to dull his irritation or his persistent, nagging thoughts.

Keira.

Bloody. Keira.

His assistant. His brainache. His personal hurricane in heels. Infuriating woman.

He’d seen her face when the photos hit the tabloids… murderous and pink–cheeked, jaw clenched and those scorching blue eyes blazing as she rapid–fired damage control from the corner of her “converted” cubicle outside his office.

He hadn’t even slept with the model in the photos. She’d begged for attention. He hadn’t intended to give the cameras anything. The model had pulled at his towel before he could stop her. It had been her way of getting media attention. Now there were questions about them being an item. She had gone out the next day sporting a ring on her finger.

But he had still enjoyed the pleasure of pissing Keira Warner off.

Because watching her fury spark? That was his new favorite hobby.

God, she was exhausting. Bossy. Blunt. Rude. Delightfully rude. No one else ever fought back the way she did. Not in the palace. Not in

business.

She fired his blood in an argument better than any woman had in his bed.

Well–correction. No one had been in his bed in a while either.

Had it really been a month?

cufflink with a frown. He

him had taken it upon

Last

would definitely see the photo. And react. Which, for reasons he refused

1/4

an eyebrow at him. Palace Communications. Translation: his father’s eyes and ears. There was also Mark at the office. Alexei would bet he had

problem was they reported to his father like he was twelve years old and not thirty–one. Alexei was guessing he was going to be getting a phone call from

of perception” and the “crown’s dignity.” As if Alexei had any real

years

Alexei was still

enough to power to be a headline. Let’s be honest,

lightly trace his bicep. She smiled, batting lashes like she was auditioning for Miss Universe: 1950s Edition. “Penny for your

that, darling,” Alexei said

They all did. They always did. He could say anything to them,

Except Keira.

would snort, roll her eyes, and call him something obscene, probably while making him a triple–shot espresso and outlining his next five meetings. The woman had practically weaponized

he was alone. Keira wasn’t impressed with his title, and she’d tell anyone she wasn’t impressed by him.

out what was wrong with him. He should have preferred agreeable women, but they bored him with their predictability. Keira, on the other hand, was anything but predictable, which might be why he enjoyed provoking

eager to be close to him, especially when his shirt came off.

paparazzi, half the world

like the one at

She challenged him. Pushed back. Got visibly frustrated every time he pressed one of her buttons–which, fortunately for him, he had

of the reason he had been messaging her

smiled as he remembered one of her texts: “Currently drowning in photos of your ass.” It made him grin because it hadn’t even been his

here?” the blonde asked in his ear, way too confident, like they were

and a little too

down at her. She was pretty. Of course, she was.

But she wasn’t–

said,

flickered in her

an early day tomorrow.” He stepped away, straightened his jacket, and handed off his

believe it was happening. She had just offered herself

to hear

As were two of his father’s ‘staff‘ meaning security. He couldn’t

penthouse,

rubbed at his jaw. He was