Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hollywood Royalty Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
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“You had something precious in your hands. Something that no money in the world can buy, and you threw it away without so much as a second thought.” He shakes his head. “You don’t deserve her.” He walks out and slams the door behind him.

“I know I don’t,” I say softly to the empty room. I walk back out and see that Erin is gone, but Sylvia and Jeff are waiting for me. “I have to get to makeup,” I tell them and walk away to the makeup chair. Mandy takes one look at me and doesn’t say anything. She just does her job, and I leave without saying anything. The day drags on. It drags on because I can’t get my lines right, and each scene has to be redone a hundred times until I finally get it right. Ivan spends most of the day swearing in Russian every single time I fuck up.

I drive by her house on my way home, and I see that the lights are off in her house. I wonder if she’s sleeping, but then I don’t spot her car. I sit here, looking up at the window that I know is hers. Pulling away from her house, I go home to my empty house, grabbing a bottle of Jack and going to the guest room. I haven’t been back in my room since she left. I kick off my shoes the same time I crack open the bottle of Jack and take four gulps before hissing out in pain from the burn. I lie on the bed, and I grab my phone, opening it up to the photos. I know I shouldn’t, and I should just delete them, but I can’t. Not yet. I look through them, starting at the very beginning when we were in Montana. Every single time I think of the memory that goes with the photo, I take another chug, the burning less and less. I drift off into the darkness with the phone on my chest and the empty bottle of Jack in my hand. The sound of it falling and shattering on the floor barely has me opening my eyes. I sleep through my alarm the next day, and I only wake when I feel my phone buzzing on my chest. I blink open and slur out, “Hello.”

“Where in the fuck are you?” the woman asks me, and I cringe when I open my eyes and then close them just as quickly when the light is unbearable.

“I’m in bed,” I tell them. “Who is this?”

“It’s Sylvia,” she hisses. “You were due on set an hour ago. I’m outside your door.”

I lift my head, looking at the bedroom door but not seeing anyone. “I can’t see you,” I tell her.

“I’m outside,” she says, and then I hear the banging. “Get up.”

I sit up and groan, the headache that started off as a little throb has turned into full pounding. I climb out of the bed and get up, not realizing that I’m stepping on shards of glass in my bare feet. The sting makes me wince, and I look down, seeing the blood start to pour out. “Four-seven-one,” I tell her the code, and soon, I hear the front door open. I sit back on the bed and hiss when I turn my foot over and see that it’s sliced open. “I need help!” I shout, and I hear her running up the steps. “In here.”

She walks in and sees the blood dripping off my foot and the glass all around me. “Fuck,” she says and grabs her phone to call someone. “I need a doctor to come over to Carter’s place.” She looks at me while she listens to what the person on the other line says. “Yeah, get him over here right now. The set is on standby until he shows up.” She hangs up the phone and leans on the doorjamb.

“Does it hurt?” She folds her arms over her chest.

“Stings a bit,” I tell her the truth.

“Good,” she says and then takes out her phone, and her fingers are flying across her phone. “We are probably going to have to postpone shooting for today.” Turning her wrist over to look at her phone, she says, “It’s already late.”

“Can you go get me some ibuprofen?” I ask her, and she just stares at me. “Please. Between the sting of the cut and the hangover, I don’t know which is worse.”

She turns and walks down the stairs, and I hear the cupboards slamming shut and then the water running. She comes back with two pills and a full glass of water. She watches me, or better yet, she glares at me until her phone rings. She answers it, walking out and then coming back in with the doctor. He comes in wearing a suit and holding a black bag. He places it on the bed.


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