But that was because they didn’t know about her and Staffan, Saffi told herself. They didn’t know that he loved her so much he had been living in her dorm room since they got back together, with everyone in uni turning a blind eye to it.
Jeremy had been calling her nonstop last night, but surely it didn’t mean anything. She had to believe in Steel. She had to.
Saffi looked at the tabloid again.
She was…going to buy it.
Putting everything down for the moment, Saffi decided it was better to browse through the whole thing without Staffan around. If she did it back at the dorm and Staffan happened to be awake, she would never get to see even one word written in it.
So far so good, Saffi thought, scanning the front page and seeing nothing written about Staffan or Chloe. She flipped through the pages, her smile widening with every page that had nothing about the two until she reached the penultimate page.
The photo, together with the big bold letters written over it, made her feel dizzy with horror.
Homosexual halosaur.
Saffi broke into a run, gasping when she finally reached her room. She threw the door open, her gaze immediately falling onto the empty bed.
Staffan was gone.
Saffi slid to the floor, numb with shock, the tabloid slipping past her fingers, falling open to the page where a photo of Jeremy and her was printed. They had been caught on camera leaving the pharmacy, and a small in-set shot was zoomed in at what she was holding: a pregnancy kit.
ILLEGITIMATE SON OF PRINCE KHALID WITH SECRET FIANCEE, ONLY DAUGHTER OF SENATOR MARCH: BABY ON THE WAY?
She fell on her knees as she picked up her phone from the bedside table. The screen listed her recent calls, and Saffi knew Staffan had seen all her calls were from Jeremy.
Her fingers grew numb as she dialed his number over and over. Saffi grabbed her laptop. It tumbled to the floor, but she didn’t care. She picked it up and opened it. She only needed to find a way to contact him, to hear his voice, to make him listen to her.
Please, please, please.
But he didn’t answer.
Time crawled at an excruciating pace. Or maybe it flew past her. She didn’t know, didn’t care. She just needed to hear Staffan’s voice. He had to listen to her. He had to.
The shadow of a tall dark figure from the doorway fell over her. She looked up, heart in her throat, but it was not Staffan.
It was a prince to the rescue, but it was not her prince.
“I need to take you away from here, Saffi,” Jeremy told her quietly. “The press will be coming any time now.”
“I have to wait for Staffan. He’s coming back.”
“He can talk to you in Steel’s home. I’m taking you there. We have to leave now.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. Staffan’s coming back.” Her voice broke at the end. “He’s coming back, Jeremy. He loves me. He’ll listen to me.”
“I’m sorry, Saffi. But you don’t seem to understand either.” His voice was pained. “Your university’s going to kick you out. They can’t have the press descending on them. You must leave.”
She shook her head. Her head ached. Her heart hurt. And her---
Saffi looked down at herself in horror.
“Jeremy,” she whispered. “Take me to the doctor. I don’t want to lose my baby.”
****
“You need to go back to Saffi’s dorm,” Constantijin said implacably the moment Staffan answered his call. When his friend didn’t answer, he said quietly, “Give her a chance to explain. You didn’t give her one before, and look at how well that turned out.”
Staffan squeezed his eyes shut, Constantijin’s words hitting a raw spot.
“I made sure none of the newspapers or agencies I own carry this shit, but I can’t control the others. They’re going to Saffi because she’s more vulnerable than you are. If you still love her, then get your ass over there and give her a f**king hand.”
Staffan ended the call.
“Go back to Saffi’s uni, Bob.”
Bob nodded, turning the car around so fast the wheels squeaked underneath them. The sight that greeted them there was horrendous, a mob of reporters that seemed more like vultures than humans as they pestered university students for news about Saffi.
Staffan was about to get out of the car when he saw the crowd parting, double rows of liveried men creating a path that led to a waiting limousine.
And then…
Saffi.
A tall dark man walked beside to her, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
Damn you to hell, Saffi March.
Damn you to hell.
Chapter Three
Saffi March set her Facebook account to private.
Saffi’s father stood and immediately went around his desk the moment the door to his office opened. At the senator’s nod, the secretary reluctantly closed the door behind Staffan Aehrenthal, a still-dazed look on her face. She could not believe she had just seen the famous rock star in her boss’ office. Most times, his guests were boring old farts and snooty women from his old hometown. None of them certainly deserved the title ‘sex god’, even if they were to walk in here naked.
Maybe, she mused, this had to do with the scandal poor Sapphire March had become recently embroiled in – maybe the very same reason that the men of the March family were now here en masse.
Senator Samuel March was tall and distinguished looking, his patrician features only made more handsome by age. At the other side of the expansive office stood three men. They had a look of privilege to them, and even the youngest of them appeared immensely self-assured.
Staffan despised them all on sight, especially the f**king prince whose name was still being linked to her. The man was too handsome for his own good, and he even had a f**king princely air about him, as if it was part of his day job to rescue damsels in distress.
Did that f**king include knocking up a girl who already belonged to another man?
Senator March moved forward, asking politely, “Staffan Aehrenthal?”
Staffan forced himself to look away from the royal ass**le. He took the hand offered to him and shook it, answering mockingly, “Senator March?” If the old man thought he’d f**king kowtow to him just because he had a seat in the f**king government, then he would be f**king mistaken. The old man should be thankful Staffan retained enough of his manners to call him by his title when he wasn’t even American.
The senator didn’t appear to mind the mocking tone to his voice. He only nodded, continuing in the same polite voice, “Thank you for accepting my invitation, even if it was on such short notice.” He gestured to the seating area at the side. “Shall we?”