Moetia strode toward Lucius, clearly intending to kiss him half-naked at the end of dinner. Was I going to just let that happen? Hell no, girl. I immediately stood up and gently caught her by the arm.
"Wow! No, no, I think you've had a little too much to drink," I said. "Come on, sit down. Let me zip your dress back up. Otherwise, tomorrow you might have a massive case of regret to go with that hangover."
Lucius, who knows her well, wore a rare look of suspicion, like something wasn't quite right. And he was spot on.
The moment I finished covering her breasts, the little mermaid looked at me with a smirk. "Caught you. I knew it. There is definitely something going on between you and Lucius, and it's glaringly obvious that Killian is in the mix too. God! This is the best story ever. I'm not drunk—that comes later—I just needed to test my theory... and yes! How thrilling! Come on!"
She grabbed my hand, and completely caught off guard, I followed her, dying of curiosity and trying to piece together what was happening. She led me to a luxurious office filled with multiple computers and dozens of books—all by the famous author M. H. Lamar, my absolute favorite, the undisputed queen of romance novels. As I stood there still trying to process it, she turned to me.
"I am M. H. Lamar. It's my pen name. I've been writing since I was a teenager, and out of these eight novels, the last five have been bestsellers. I'm sure you've heard of My Beloved Pirate Captain."
My jaw dropped, and my eyes went so wide it felt impossible to reconcile her gorgeous face and Polynesian-princess body with the little old lady I had always imagined M. H. Lamar to be. I managed to stammer that I hadn't read My Beloved Pirate Captain, but I had read her last two novels, A Thousand Nights with the King of Scotland and Springtime at the Tigre Hotel. Like a total fangirl, I started shaking and thanked her for the ending of Springtime—and sorry, girl, if you haven't read it yet—where the icy, passionate heir with ocean-colored eyes returns to his kingdom without saying "I love you." Then, in the gardens of the Tigre Hotel, right as she is writing her farewell letter to marry someone else... he returns, sweeps her into his arms, and...
I rushed forward and hugged her, crying like a total fool. "Every afternoon during my adoptive mother's final days, I would take her out to the garden in her wheelchair, and there, under the sun, I'd read Springtime to her. This is such an honor! I thought you were some sweet old lady reminiscing about her life in the 1950s. I never imagined I'd actually meet you."
Lucius appeared at the door, asking if everything was alright. I threw the door open, completely starstruck, and shouted with a massive, unshakeable smile, "Alright?! This is one of the best days of my life!"
He replied calmly, "Okay, I don't get what the big deal is, but if you're happy, I'm happy. Now, can someone please explain what's going on?"
Moetia smiled and looked at him. "All of this is because, unlike you—who never even touched the copy of Springtime at the Tigre Hotel I sent to Longfield—Carmilla actually read it, and it turns out it meant the world to her. See what you missed out on? You couldn't even bother to flip through the pages and give me some feedback. And you're the guy it's based on!"
That's when everything clicked, girl. If you think I haven't wondered why Lucius commands my entire body and soul, now I know: he is the real-life crown prince who inspired the book I swooned over for countless days and nights, reading and re-reading Springtime.
I couldn't believe it. Honestly, I felt so incredibly happy, you know? The real-life main character loves me... the crown prince loves me! But at the same time, a crushing wave of insecurity washed over me. How could I ever compete with a woman of her caliber, someone capable of creating true art?
"You're wrong, I did read it," Lucius fired back. "But romance novels aren't really my thing. Besides, I don't appreciate being dumped via a message—even if it's a three-hundred-page message."
Then, looking at me tenderly, he asked, "So, brat, do you need anything from me, or should I leave you two alone?"
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and shut the door, practically pushing him out so she could tell me everything.
"Did you really like Springtime?" Moetia asked. "I wrote it a month after the last time Lucius and I saw each other, back when I still hoped what we had would last forever. But I need romance in my life, and, well... I already told you I thought I'd found that with someone else, but it was a total disaster. Anyway, enough about the past! Look, the moment I saw you guys, I called my agent and said: I have the premise for my next novel: a girl who doesn't belong to the billionaire world manages to make the most powerful men on earth crave her. Want to read what I wrote about you?"
I bolted over to the computer screen, and right there, I saw exactly why Carol and I always said she was the greatest writer of all time. The scene took place on an afternoon at the mansion of the wealthiest people on earth, where the two brothers watched her arrive—or rather, watched me arrive—and Moetia had written the following about me:
She walked down the corridor; the timeless walls of the castle seemed to recede in her presence, finally opening up, breathing in a gust of life. The men, long accustomed to the dark oppression of their responsibilities, saw her as freedom itself. Her short hair and slender neck practically begged them to protect her. From a distance, she looked like a glass ballerina you could picture cracking, right on the verge of shattering into a million pieces—or perhaps one who had already fallen and broken, only to painstakingly put herself back together, gluing every shard in place to stand up and keep moving. The men couldn't help but stare, compelled by her charm to lower their guard, sheath their swords, and offer a gentle hand. But her eyes, shifting with the colors of the sea and the river, were placed there by God in His infinite mercy to warn the rest of humanity that this woman carries something within her for which there is no cure, something no one can tame. The brothers, drunk on pride, refused to heed the divine warning of danger... and they stepped closer... Icarus learned the hard way, as he plummeted, that he shouldn't have flown too close to the sun, that one cannot fly without wings. How will these two manage to go on living without a heart? A single glance was all it took. There is no turning back, no cure for love.
See why I told you she was the best? To top it all off, she asked me with total humility, "Do you think it's good? I really need to know if your essence is in there... do you feel yourself in those lines?"
I pointed directly at the computer screen. "That's Carmilla. That's me, without a doubt. Though I'm not much use as a critic, it's such a huge honor that..."
She looked surprised and cut me off. "An honor for you? No, Carmilla, you've got me beat in every way! I wrote my previous novels based on what I felt and experienced, exaggerating the romance and the drama. But I look at you, and now I don't have to fake a thing. You are living the exact novel every woman wishes she could read."
With total honesty and a little bit of dread, I asked her, "And do you know how this ends? Any idea what happens to the two of them? No, sorry, don't mind me, I worry too much. I'm trying to just enjoy what's happening to me, but I don't want to hurt them... at least tell me if they'll be okay at the end of your book."
"The ending doesn't really matter that much," she replied. "They're in love right now; they've already won, don't you think? The characters need to feel and live in the present, because the end of the book hasn't been written yet. Who knows, maybe she stays with both of them forever... anything is possible."
Tears welled up again. "You are the wisest little mermaid in the world," I told her.
She laughed so hard it was contagious. Then we started talking about her doubts. She told me she'd picked up on the love between the three of us, but that something about it felt uniquely fascinating. She confessed she loved my androgynous style—and yes, girl, loved it in the sense that she found it sexually attractive, hahaha. I can't believe it: M. H. Lamar is into me! She also confessed that the scene where she stripped a moment ago hadn't been planned, but she absolutely had to know if the triangle she'd mapped out in her head was real, or the uncertainty was going to drive her crazy. She admitted, respectfully but true to herself, that she still had feelings for Lucius and that, deep down, she wanted to be right about the three of us just as much as she wanted him to kiss her.
I called her out, telling her that the whole flashing-her-breasts thing felt like a bit much. With the casual ease straight out of her novels, she countered, "Too much? No way. Next, we're going to the lounge where those two can take their shirts off, and we have every right to show off too—we're not hiding away in there. I'm an architect too, remember? And I have a secret in my house that you are going to absolutely love."
Taking my hand, she led me to a small room blanketed in thick rugs and giant pillows, filled with enchanting music and colored lights projecting across the ceiling like a swirling galaxy. She explained:
"We'll bring them in here, where there's no division between men and women. We'll drink my signature version of a Mai Tai, made with dark rum that will wipe every single negative thought right out of your head, and we'll talk for hours. If we get bored, we can make love or sleep; the four of us will spend the night in here. No one is above anyone else. No shoes, no shirts, no bras. Just like the Garden of Eden. Tomorrow you can leave, knowing you've given me all the inspiration I need for my next book."
And here I was, thinking authors were just famous bookworms. We headed back to the dining room, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her sun-kissed back and her hips, moving with that effortless, rhythmic cadence as she walked.
I wasn't entirely sure about her proposal. Obviously, I wanted to keep talking to her; I was completely and utterly captivated by her intelligence and talent. I adore her writing, and you know what I realized, girl? Both she and Evangelina outshine everyone else in every way. Yes, in a world ruled by untouchable billionaires, it's the women who truly stand out. I don't get why the world belongs to men, but just one Mai Tai later, I looked over at Killian and Lucius and realized that their pull on me makes me react beyond any of the world's injustices. God, they are gorgeous.
The little mermaid's idea was starting to feel more and more erotic in my mind. Killian had already said it: intelligence is just as magnetic as beauty, and I was completely surrounded by it.
Blushing just a little, I looked at them and asked, "Have you guys seen the room where we're all sleeping together tonight?"