Your Rotten Self

Crowned Prince Campbell Alistair of the Oden family of Asgard

To try to reason with someone who you were still in love with but saw you to be one of their greatest enemies was the hardest thing I had ever done. As future King I had been trailed multiple times to test my worthiness, but Vittoria was the biggest test I had ever had to go through.

In fact she was the most stubborn, hard headed, cold, feisty, incredibly violent, creative with insults, vindictive, vengeful and boarder line psychopathic person I had ever met in my life.

Even though I would have loved to pretend I did not know why she was the way she was. I knew it was all because of me after. After all her literally copyrighted and trademarked slogan was 'It is all because of Campbell'. It haunted me every single place I went.

It was all because of me. I had pushed one of the purest souls to become a power house for women all over the world. It was like my betrayal had catalysed this sugar baby movement where all women wanted revenge for all the wrongs men had done to them.

In fact most men blamed me for their heartbreak. There was a new power in the world where women no longer even worshipped men. That most men hated me for breaking Vittoria's heart because if that had never happened there was a good chance this movement would have never existed in the first place.

"Prince Campbell," one of the maids bowed as she entered the living room. The folding glass doors of the room were opened, bringing in the fresh sea breeze of Monaco as it extended out to the balcony. I had poured myself a glass of whiskey from the moment I stepped in.

"Yes Elizabeth," I sighed.

"Prince Alexandré is about to arrive. I was wondering if I should prepare dinner."

I nodded, "You may."

"What would you like for dinner my Prince?"

"The usual, however please ask Princess Vittoria what she and Prince Alexandré would like." The last thing I needed was a rant about how I was not inclusive of what she wanted and simply put my own expectations and needs before her.

She had really turned into quite the activist throughout the years. The Vittoria I knew, would happily take anything as long as it came from me.

"Of course my Prince," she bowed again before she left the room.

I let out a heavy sigh as I took a gulp of my whiskey once again. Every day since I had lost her, I cursed myself for being so foolish. For not taking our engagement seriously.

The thing was Vittoria was always there for me. Since we were young she had always been my best friend's little sister. She always wanted to tag along and I always found her views on everything incredibly funny. The next time I saw her when she was sixteen I could not help but to notice her beauty.

She was too young for me then but as soon as she was of age I knew what I wanted. Unfortunately it seemed everyone had known what I would want from the moment she was born. I guessed the frustration of finding out she had been groomed her whole life to be my future wife was what frustrated me the most.

The gentle clicking of heels caught my attention as I looked to the doorway and for a moment I felt it was five years ago. Vittoria entered the living room dressed in the white heeled pumps she seemed to gag at just a few moment earlier.

She wore the lime green two piece skirt and blazer I had brought for her with a white blouse underneath. The pearl necklace that had cost an arm and a leg rested around her neck.

She wore no makeup because I did not bother to buy it for her. She was always more beautiful without it. Her curly hair was tied up into a ponytail displaying her beautiful face. Despite her being incredibly short she had legs for days which were exposed due to the short skirt.

I was always used to knowing she had to wear everything at least four fingers above her knee, but I knew if I had done that she would have probably killed me. Therefore I compromised and got her a skirt that reached her mid-thigh.

Her caramel skin was glowing even though the slight after effects of a hungover was still evident by the dark circles around her eyes. Her plump pink lips were covered with a clear coat of lip gloss even though her lips were in a permanent snarl whenever she looked at me.

She looked like the Vittoria I knew. The Princess and my future Queen.

"You wore the outfit," I took a sip of my whiskey then placed the glass down on the golden coffee table.

"I didn't have much of a choice," she rolled her eyes, "I rather not hear Alexandré moan about my outfit choice."

I nodded. "He will be here in a few minutes."

She did not even bother to answer me as she walked past me to the balcony. The sweet rose and honey scent of her almost made me drop down to my knees. It had been so many years since I had been in the same room as her.

That having her right here with me and being unable to touch her was the most hellish thing I could ever experience. I wished I could beg her to take me back but I knew I would get the sharp kick of her heel.

It would not be the first time she had attacked me with one of six inch heels. I still had the scar on my back as proof.

"Monaco is beautiful isn't it?" she smiled as she looked out to the sea.

"It is," I nodded.

She hummed softly, "too bad you're here to spoil it with your rotten self."