Tarnished Empire: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

by Ava Harrison

  There are so many words I want to say, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. Instead, I kiss her, telling her with no words what I feel.

  Phoenix opens to me. Her small hand unclasping and wrapping around my neck. She kisses me with the same desperation I feel, pouring all her emotions into me.

  Time stands still as we kiss, and then it’s only when she’s panting against my mouth, and her heart is beating against mine, that we pull apart.

  “Do you think they will find us?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if they do …?” Her voice dips to an inaudible octave. Rescue. Making it out of this. That was never something either of us thought would happen. What does that mean if we do? For us.

  41

  Phoenix

  I want to ask him.

  But then I remember he made no promises for the future.

  “Alaric …”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but with the chance of—”

  “Don’t.”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was my father who betrayed you,” I say before I can regret it. “And I know that nothing I say will convince you, but the man I know, the man I have come to care for, the man I-I …” The words I have never said before sit heavy in my chest. I weigh out what to do, what to say, but in the end, I don’t know what will happen. We might have heard a boat, or maybe we were hallucinating; this could be my last chance, so I do it. I cut into my chest and give him my heart. “The man I’m falling in love with would find out the truth.” His eyes are wide. I don’t expect him to say anything back, but it’s as if he can’t speak at all. Then he blinks and swallows.

  “And if it was him?” he says through a clenched jaw, words tight … and a part of me dies. I know he made no promises, but a part of me breaks anyway.

  “Then I will understand,” I say, my voice low and sad.

  He looks down at his hands, clenching them into fists. He opens and shuts them, and then relaxes, his gaze finding mine. “Dove …” he says, but then a loud sound has us both jerking upright.

  It’s getting closer. The sound is getting closer.

  Whatever Alaric would have said is forgotten as he springs into action and pulls down the top. It’s a risk to let this much water in, but it’s a risk worth taking.

  As soon as it’s mostly down, and the rains pounds against us again, the sound is clear as day.

  In the distance, gaining speed, is a small motorboat.

  They found us.

  We’re saved.

  I fall into Alaric’s arms, fresh tears finding their way out.

  We are saved.

  They bundle Alaric and me up in towels on a fishing boat. We both shiver as we try to dry off.

  It was a whirlwind of activity as we were rescued.

  But now, as the boat heads toward land, I can’t help but shake.

  I’m not even sure why I’m shaking.

  Cold? Nerves? Both.

  We don’t speak as we get closer and closer to the land in the distance. I’m not sure how long it’s been since we got on the boat, but Alaric was right. Eventually, we would have found land, but whether we would have lived through the storm had the fishing boat not seen us is a different question.

  A question we thankfully will never have to answer.

  Other questions linger on my tongue, but I don’t have the energy to ask them.

  I know that when we were first rescued, they took Alaric to the captain where, I have to assume, he tried to reach his men.

  He doesn’t tell me what they said.

  I don’t ask either.

  I don’t know what will happen when we hit land, but I’m too afraid to find out.

  Things happen fast from that moment on. One minute, we are on the boat, and the next we are docking.

  Where Alaric’s men await.

  I’m shocked to see Cristian is one of those men, but I’m not shocked to see he’s the only one from the yacht crew.

  The rest must all be dead.

  If Alaric knew this already, he didn’t tell me. Actually, he hasn’t said anything at all to me since we got on the boat.

  I feel like my tongue is heavy with questions, but none will leave my mouth.

  Did he know most of his men died?

  Was his yacht ruined? Not that a material item would matter compared to the lives lost, but I still want to know.

  Maybe that’s why he hasn’t spoken to me.

  Maybe he still thinks this is my father’s fault. Maybe he’s blaming this all on me. That his men are dead because I stowed away on his boat.

  I still believe my father is innocent in all this, but Alaric doesn’t.

  It feels like a weight is crushing me. I watch him when he sees his men; it doesn’t look like a surprise. He knew who would be here.

  The boat edges closer, and then one of the crew members from the fishing boat jumps off to help tie the rope onto the dock.

  I wait for Alaric to say something to me, but he continues to pace the deck, waiting. His shoulders are tense, and for a minute when the boat docks, I think he will get off the boat without saying a word to me.

  Him leaving without saying goodbye has my heart thumping rapidly in my chest.

  He wouldn’t do that. Would he?

  Then I get my answer as he walks. I sit in silence as he’s off the boat and hugging Cristian.

  He … he left me.

  It will be okay.

  When I’m off the ship, I’ll call my father. I’ll figure something out.

  I don’t even know where I am.

  Again, I’m shaking. Again, I feel the tears forming behind my eyelids. But I hold them back. I won’t let him see me cry.

  I’m about to get up and move to leave when he turns and looks at me. Our eyes lock. Then he’s storming back to me.

  I’m startled by the ferocity of his movements.

  He grabs me forcefully, and his mouth is on mine.

  He kisses me with a desperate passion, and I know this is it. This is his way of saying goodbye. The tears I’ve been holding back pour out of my eyes, and he pulls back. His gaze trails down my face, watching me cry.

  He lifts his hand up and wipes one away.

  “Your father is on his way,” he says

  “You called my dad.”

  “I did.” My back goes ramrod straight, and he slides his finger along my jaw. “Don’t worry. This isn’t a trap. I won’t hurt him.”

  “Why?” I whisper, still against his lips.

  “Because of you. Because of what he means to you. I could never hurt you like that, dove.” His breath tickles my mouth, but his words make me go warm.

  “I thought you were going to call me Phoenix,” I whisper.

  “I lied.” He laughs. “You will always be my dove.” And with that, he pulls away. I want to hold him to me. Beg him not to leave and tell him we can make it work regardless. But as I see a car approaching in the distance, I know who it is, and I know why he’s leaving. My legs grow weak, and as I watch him walk off into the distance without a goodbye, I feel like I might fall.

  Nothing about me will ever be the same after my time with Alaric.

  That much I’m sure of.

  And I’ll be better for it.

  When he’s gone, the car stops right in front of where the boat is. It is barely set into park before the door is flying open.

  My father comes running out of the car. I have known Michael since I was a little girl. Longer than I can ever imagine. My earliest memories are of him, but never have I seen him like this before.

  He grabs me in his arms, emotions playing on his feature. I stay in his arms, hugging him for a few minutes, before he pulls back and looks me up and down, trying to make sure I’m okay. I’m sure I look like a mess. I haven’t bathed since the island days ago. Yes, Alaric and I still brushed our teeth on the raft, but that was the end of personal hygiene because of the storm.

  “Are you okay?
” he asks, scowling. “What did that bastard do to you?”

  “He did nothing.”

  “Like hell, he didn’t.”

  “Dad …” I take his hands in mine. “He never hurt me. He saved me, actually.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to be saved if it wasn’t for him.”

  “Now that’s not true.” My father looks at me like I’m crazy. “I snuck onto his boat, remember? I came with a plan. A malicious one.”

  “And he kept you. He could have let you go.”

  He’s right there, but I’ve moved past that fact a long time ago. I have made my peace with both Alaric’s and my involvement in what happened to us. Neither one of us were innocent, and there is no point dwelling on the past.

  Together, we walk to the car. I’m not sure where we are, what island, but I don’t bother asking anything. I don’t want to know. I just want to go home.

  I’m exhausted. I can barely breathe, and the truth is, I’m on the verge of falling apart.

  It doesn’t matter because thankfully, I don’t need to do anything or say anything. The car is silent as we drive to wherever we are going, and then we are pulling up to a Gulfstream jet.

  I’m in a daze, and maybe he is too, or he understands I’ve been through enough today.

  Before I know it, we are on the plane, and then we are landing. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, my eyes are opening, and the plane is no longer moving.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “New York,” he answers. His answer takes me off guard. Normally, because of business, my father keeps a residence in Miami, so why are we in New York?

  He must read my question because the moment we are alone in the back seat of his car, he leans forward, his arms resting on his knees.

  “When you disappeared, so did the deal with Alaric.”

  The deal that paid off his debt.

  “You’ve been hiding in New York this whole time. Did you even try to find me?” My voice cracks.

  “Of course. I did, but after a week …”

  “You thought I was dead.” He looks down at my words, distraught. I reach my hand across the car and take his hand in mine. “You couldn’t have known, and you wouldn’t have found us.”

  “How?” He shakes his head, and I know he wants to ask how I am alive, but he’s too emotional to do so.

  “Alaric. If it wasn’t for Alaric, I would be dead.”

  He grits his teeth at my admission. It’s obvious there is still bad blood between them.

  Not wanting another confirmation, I turn to look out the window. For the first time since I have been rescued, I let my mind wander, and my thoughts go straight to him.

  In my mind, he’s beside me, and it makes the pain spreading through my body more powerful.

  Everything hurts.

  My father must notice because he turns and says, “The doctor will be waiting at the apartment … at the hotel.”

  “You’ve been staying at a hotel?”

  “No, I was somewhere else. Where no one could find me.”

  “And now?”

  “When you were rescued, one of the men who worked for Alaric told me where you would be and that my problem was taken care of. He would honor the original deal and that what he did to you was enough.”

  My father’s fists are clenched, and I can only imagine what he must think. What he must think Alaric did to me.

  “Dad—”

  “No, I don’t want to know. I don’t think I can live with myself if I knew.”

  My teeth bite down into my cheek. I don’t say anything, though. The truth is, that’s a conversation for a different day. I don’t have the energy to go there anyway.

  Soon, we are pulling up to the hotel, and I’m being whisked away.

  My brain is going a mile a minute, and I can’t even take in all that’s happening. My father doesn’t just have one room for us; he has rented the whole floor. A hotel security guard waits for us as we exit the elevator.

  “Is this really necessary?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond.

  When I’m finally alone in the suite that I’ll be staying in, the first thing I do is strip naked and stare at myself in the mirror.

  I knew I lost weight, but now looking at myself, I can’t believe how much.

  I look skeletal. My skin, although sun-kissed from the days fishing in the sun, still looks pale. Like my body was starved of nutrients, which it was. My hair is brittle and no longer shiny, but as I stare at my hip bones, I don’t think about anything other than the fact that I lived. Looking at myself, I now see how close I was to dying.

  Turning on the shower water, I step in once it’s hot. A moan escapes my mouth. After weeks of bathing in a lake, a warm shower feels like heaven.

  I let the hot scalding water wash away the past few weeks, and by the time I step out, I feel a little more like myself.

  Like a Phoenix.

  Reborn after death.

  42

  Alaric

  It’s been thirteen days since I’ve seen her, and I still look around as if she is just up the beach from me.

  Leaving her was much harder than I thought it would be. But it was also the most necessary thing I have ever done.

  Despite what she says, her father killed my brother.

  I can’t be with her.

  Despite what I needed for myself, I put her first and let her father live. Then like the fucking lovestruck pussy that I am, I paid off his debt and let him go free of any consequences.

  The only one being that his life was in my hands, and I gave it back to him.

  For a man with as much pride as Michael Lawrence, it’s almost enough.

  But for me, it’s not, so I have to stay away.

  I’m sitting on my newly refurbished yacht in the port of Miami when Cristian approaches.

  “How is she?” I ask because no matter what I say, I have my men checking in on her.

  “No one has seen her.”

  That makes me lift my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “She refuses to leave the hotel. Apparently, she stays in her room, and if my contacts are correct …”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s been sick.”

  My brain thinks of everything she ate while we were on the island when we were together. Could something—or someone—have hurt her?

  Did she get sick? An infection? She got hurt … was that what happened? Did I not see it? Is she okay? Maybe it was the starfruit? It can be deadly for people suffering from kidney problems.

  Shit. That could be it.

  As much as I know I shouldn’t see her, I need to know if she’s okay. I have to see what’s wrong with her.

  “Did you call Matteo and tell him to remove the hit on Michael?” I ask, settling back into my chair.

  “I wasn’t able to get a hold of him, but I told Lorenzo. I’m sure it will be taken care of.”

  Looking away from him, I stare off into the distance. This is where I caught her. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look at this boat—hell, even the ocean—and not think of her now.

  Turning back, I see Cristian staring at me. “Tell the captain we’re sailing to New York,” I say to him.

  “I already did,” he says, and I level him with my stare.

  “That was a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but I have been with you for years. I see how you have been since you’ve been back. I knew you would want to see her.”

  “You were right. But, Cristian …”

  “I know. I know.”

  He walks out of my office, and I look around. This room isn’t any different. Of all the damage that was done to my yacht, it wasn’t completely ruined.

  The lives that were lost, though, those lives will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  It’s become very obvious that someone else was trying to kill me that day.

  They weren’t after Phoenix, after all. That doesn’t mean Michael didn’t kill
my brother, but it leads me to some questions.

  A part of me wonders if there is more to this puzzle I’m not seeing. Like a colossal piece is missing, and I’m just not finding it.

  It takes us ten days to sail from Miami to New York, but instead of staying there, we make the trip a little further, ending up at Cyrus Reed’s instead.

  On the way to New York, I tried to call Phoenix every day. Every time I did, I was met with a dead end.

  Michael has her locked away on the top floor of a posh hotel in the city. Despite my best efforts, my attempts to get in contact with her have been futile. This is why I find myself on a detour. If anyone can help me, it’s Cyrus.

  When we are docked, I find my host standing on the edge of his property, waiting with his arms crossed.

  He really is a prick when he wants to be, but I can trust him, and trust is hard to come by in my business.

  “Alaric Prince, to what do I owe this honor? The last time you just stopped by, you unloaded a shit ton of guns and then never picked them up.”

  “Hello to you too, man. Aren’t you glad I’m alive?”

  “As if getting lost at sea could stop you? Now, cut the shit. As much as I like you, and I do, you are kind of interrupting.”

  “Trouble in paradise?”

  “Fuck no, but now that I have Ivy, I don’t really like to be bothered with anyone else.”

  “Duly noted, but for the amount of money I pay …” I raise an eyebrow.

  “And this is why I haven’t pulled one of your guns from my basement and killed you.”

  “And to think we are friends. How do you treat your enemies?”

  His lips tip up. “Bullet in the brain.”

  “I do remember that.” I chuckle, and then Cyrus does something I don’t expect. He chuckles too.

  Sick bastards, the both of us.

  We both start to walk toward the house, toward my … scratch that Michael’s guns.

  “So now that you’re here, tell me what exactly I can help you with?”

  “The guns.”

  He stops walking and turns to face me. “Are you finally taking them?”