Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
It takes me a moment to separate what’s in front of me from what I already know.
The reality from the past.
The truth from the imagination.
And it is her.
Not Alicia.
But someone so close, she managed to slip from under my radar for years.
Fucking years.
I thought she died in a hole somewhere, or that she pissed off to another corner of the world.
Turns out, neither are the case. She’s here in my empire. Right under my nose.
She appeared out of thin air like a fucking ghost.
Does she think she’ll slip between my fingers this easily? Or that she can escape me in my own territory?
Now that I’m past the haze and thinking more rationally, I recall the first and last time I met her.
It was at my wedding to Alicia.
A little girl with barely brushed hair ran into me, lifted up her huge sparkling eyes and her mouth formed into an ‘O’. Her first words to me were, “I’m sorry, sir.”
She’ll be more than sorry now.
She’ll wish she’d stayed far away from my kingdom.
That lowlife Ethan must’ve played a part in this, but he’ll also pay. And it’ll be by using her.
The ghost.
The sneak.
My dead wife’s little sister.
3
Aurora
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
He wasn’t supposed to come now, of all times.
My gaze is held captive by his darker, grim one. He doesn’t even blink or show any reaction.
Jonathan stands a small distance away, but he might as well be wrapping his hands around my throat in a tight noose.
A sharp tux flatters his broad frame and highlights his long legs. It’s almost as if he’s in his late thirties instead of his mid-forties. His appearance is taut, hard, and fierce — like everything about him.
His midnight-coloured hair is styled back, revealing a strong forehead and an angular jawline that could cut me in half if I get any nearer. A slight stubble covers his face, giving him an older, harsher, and untouchable feel.
The king.
Literally.
Figuratively.
It’s more than his last name and all about his power that knows no limits.
The queen? Forget about her. She does nothing in the real world. It’s the likes of Jonathan King who toys with the economy like it’s his personal chessboard.
The prime minister? Forget about him, too. Jonathan was the main sponsor of his campaign and that should explain everything about how far his influence can reach. It’s scary to think what else he could have under his control.
Or if there’s anything that isn’t.
Of all things, running into Jonathan King is the risk I took when I came to the wedding of his son — my nephew — who doesn’t even know I exist.
Here’s hoping Jonathan doesn’t either. We only met that one time, during his wedding to Alicia. There was also that phone call, but it was so long ago. Surely he doesn’t remember me.
I remember him, though. I don’t think it’s possible to erase the few memories I have of him.
Jonathan has a presence that creeps up on you out of the blue and soon enough, it takes over everything in your surroundings. It’s the bombing from an aeroplane.
The sound of thunder.
The eruption of a volcano.
And that? That’s not even close to forgettable. For so many people, meeting Jonathan is the highlight of their existence.
At his wedding, I was young. Seven. He was twenty-four. But I clearly recall how larger than life he looked.
Like a god.
I couldn’t stop staring at him while hiding behind Alicia’s wedding dress. I dug my little fingers into the cloth and peeked up at him, making her laugh in that radiant way that warmed my chest. She told me I didn’t need to hide and that he was family now.
I did, though.
Because he was a god, and gods have wrath so brutal, it eradicates everyone in their path.
If Jonathan was larger than life then, he’s now a force not to be reckoned with. He’s the fury whose path I don’t want to walk through, no matter how much I hate him for what he did to Alicia.
Maybe he’s forgotten about me. It’s possible, right? Alicia’s been dead for eleven years and I last met him twenty years ago.
Stay calm.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Jonathan strides towards me with steps so strong, it’s almost as if I can feel them in my bones.
He stands beside me. Not beside Ethan — me.
The itch to touch my wristwatch rises to the forefront of my psyche, but I shut it down as fast as I can possibly manage.
Jonathan’s not close to the point of invading my personal space, but he’s close enough that I can smell his strong, distinctive scent that for some foolish reason, I still recall.
Back then, I didn’t know how to categorise that scent except for it being so addictive. Now, I recognise it as spicy and woodsy. Jonathan is all about power, even in the way he smells.