Cornered (erotic) (#7, 101 Nights)

Chapter Three: Natalie

I rest for a few days after arriving back to the penthouse. George convinces me to wait until I’m physically recovered before visiting family. The moment we pull up to the place where my mother and father are staying, I understand his concern.

It’s packed. As in, there are police guiding traffic around the mass of people. I lean back as the press rushes our car. Any idea I have of no longer being of interest now that the engagement was off is gone. I’ll never get used to this, never know exactly how to handle the reporters. Elijah was abrupt with them, but I have trouble brushing off or ignoring them or pretending someone isn’t shouting my name.

“This is where my mom is?” I gaze at the hotel doubtfully. My parents don’t have the money for a hotel like this outside of the city let alone downtown.

“Yeah. Elijah owns most of the property on this block,” George replies from the front seat. He speaks into the microphone on his collar.

Figures. Elijah probably owns half the world. Fresh pain makes my breath hitch in my throat.

George’s men create a path to the entrance of the hotel. I wipe my hands on my jeans nervously, almost wishing Elijah was here. I’ve never walked the gauntlet alone. I dressed with care in designer jeans that are rolled down to fit around my growing tummy, cute boots, and a sweater. Layla helped me with my hair. I am debating whether or not I smile and stop for a picture when one of the security team members opens the door.

The flood of shouts and questions starts the moment I set foot outside the car. I’ve forgotten how loud and bright it is once the cameras begin flashing. What I’m not expecting to see are the homemade signs from well-wishers intermingled with reporters.

Welcome home, Cinderella!

We love you and baby!

God bless!

The posters are so sweet and range from congratulating me about the baby to happiness over my escape from danger. I don’t have to force the smile that comes to my face at the sight of how thoughtful people can be. Just when my hope for humanity falls away, it’s restored by small demonstrations like this.

I wave and do my best to stop and pose how Elijah taught me. Heart pounding, I venture close enough to the lines of bodyguards to receive a bouquet of flowers from a teen girl wearing a tiara. I lean in to give her a quick hug before one of George’s men nudges for me to return to the safe channel they’ve created through the masses.

Clutching the flowers like they’re a mini shield, I wait for George as he instructed, then walk with him into the lobby. More security members are present in the lobby.

“Will I ever not need bodyguards?” I ask, overwhelmed by the attention I thought would fade once people realized I’m special anymore. I touch the petals of the mixed bouquet. Its brightness, and the thoughtfulness that went into the teen’s decision to bring them, soften my shock and dismay that so many people are following every minute detail of my life.

“I’m guessing no, now that it’s public knowledge your child will be the next queen of Nijala,” George replies drily. He motions me towards a bank of elevators. “EJ gave instructions to keep you safe for as long as you need the protection.”

I glance towards the mass of people visible through the entrance’s doors. “I guess … I hoped things would go back to normal.”

“This is normal for you now,” he replies. “Having grown up in the spotlight, I can tell you this much. It’s never easy, but you do get used to it. You’ll learn how to navigate the questions, how to plan every outing so you don’t end up with just-woke-up hair in the press.”