by Mallory Fox
Wicked Hearts
Wicked Hearts At War Book One
Mallory Fox
Black Jade Publishing
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Author
Wicked Hearts
Copyright © January 2020 by Mallory Fox
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this publication only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the copyright holder’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published in the United Kingdom by
Black Jade Publishing Ltd.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by The Book Brander
Editing by Star Like Words
To my rock.
Thanks for letting me have the left side of the bed.
❤
Prologue
Pearl
He died once.
Well, technically he was dead for about three minutes. His heart stopped cold. I watched some stranger give him the kiss of life while his body was wrapped in one of those flimsy foil blankets, lips turning a pale shade of blue. An agony of biting winds screamed over the raging river while I stood and watched, and did nothing as the snow fell and fell.
All I remember is my parent’s car sinking further into watery depths. Men in bright yellow jackets who kept asking me questions which had useless answers. And all around us becoming strangely beautiful.
Pure. Unadulterated. Virgin white. Not like my soul.
And my step-brother…
Dying before my very eyes and then coming back to life. Gasping like a fish out of water. No damage done except he lived and they didn’t.
Shame that…
Chapter 1
Pearl
The folder in front of me contains evidence of every type of deviant I could be, every indiscretion, every secret in sweet, sordid detail. All neatly sorted into date and dollar order. But it doesn’t contain that one.
Thank goodness for that.
Still. I want to fling the folder and the insulting files in it across the room, scatter them and the emotions building up inside of me, but I don’t. That would be very unreserved and, god forbid my mother turns in her grave, unladylike. And while I’m not a lady, at least not anymore, I’m nothing but reserved.
Sullivan, sitting slightly apart from the four board members in the room, regards me with pained look. An old family friend cum lawyer, who somehow ended up as trustee of my late parents’ fortune – my fortune to be exact.
I do well not to let him forget that.
Placing the folder back on the table closest to Sullivan I offer the room one of my butter-wouldn't-melt smiles. Sully narrows his gaze at the offending binder, furrowing his brow as one of the photographs slips out, fluttering to the floor like the wing of broken angel. It’s a beautiful shot from a video of me being screwed by the England football team’s captain and his twin brother... at the same time.
I have a thing for twins, what can I say, but… that's not actually me.
One; I would remember that. No amount of alcohol or drugs would gloss over such a contortion. I wouldn’t be able to walk for days after.
Two; I’m not that easy. I don’t spread my legs for any handsome face, even if it is a two-for-one monstrous bonus deal. As well, for some weird reason, it takes a lot for me to let someone take control. Be on top. Tie me down. Take me whichever way they please. No, that’s not my scene. The girl in the video is clearly enjoying being spruced up like a chicken and pounded like a shish kebab. I, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything worse.
And lastly, three; I have a tattoo where only a lucky few get to eyeball. If it comes down to proving my innocence by flashing the board of directors in the room, I’ll do it.
Whatever it takes.
After a few seconds of us both staring at it, Sully sighs. A sobering look crosses his face. Finally, he bends to retrieve the print, picking it up gingerly and placing it face-side down on the meeting room table.
It obviously offends him and the rest of the room.
I stifle a laugh.
Benjamin Darlington, one of my uncles frowns. “I wouldn’t laugh, if your mother–”
“That’s not me, Uncle Benji,” I cut in, flicking my eyes to him, daring him or the other board directors in the room to say otherwise. They should know me well enough by now after everything that has happened. That while everything in the file could be true, it isn’t.
As fun as it looks, I’m not that indiscreet.
I would never leave a trail of breadcrumbs so easy for blackmailers to find. No, some degenerate hack with no clue on who I am has deep-faked my face over the girl in the video. It’s such a sloppy attempt at blackmail I almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
Benjamin clears his throat. “We’re well aware of that.”
“Who else has seen it? Everyone in this room?”
Peyton Carmichael, one of the youngest board members and an aunt on my mother’s side, my real mother’s side, nods. “Yes… and your grandmother.”
I roll my eyes. Great, if Grams has seen it... She’s probably shared it around her church. Last time, her dear congregation orchestrated an intervention and had me sit in a praying circle for two days straight, all just for appearing on a talk show. There are reasons I don’t go home for the holidays, religion being one of them.
A prickle of guilt slithers up inside of me.
But you should go home, more often than not. You promised.
My fingers tap the arm of the chair I’m sitting in while my mind roves. “That’s all there was? No note, just the file?”
“Just the file attached in an email. No title, no message,” says Peyton.
“When and whose inbox?”
Sully pipes up with a grumble. “This morning it was sent to the main info @ inbox.”
“Did anyone see it before you got to it?”
“No one but me and digital security team. It was flagged as a virus and sent straight into quarantine.”
A virus? “They wanted it to be flagged?” I ask, raising a brow.
Sullivan nods.
I stop myself from gnawing my lower lip and let out a breath. “Okay, so what can we do about it? If there’s no message, what do we think they want?”
Sullivan meets my eyes, cocking his head like a spaniel. “What else but money. I’ve got someone tracing the account as we speak.”
“Okay good.” Total waste of time but everything
should be checked out. I glance at my watch. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. Tessa should have already delivered my dress for the ceremony and while I desperately want a new pair of shoes to go with it, I need to get going. Skipping is akin to suicide at La Rochelle.
“Is that all?”
“Your brother is coming back.” Sully comes right out and says it as though talking about the weather. He could have literally punched me in stomach and it would have had the same effect. My blood runs cold and my left eye starts twitching of it’s own accord.
"Step-brother,” I choke out, reminding him.
Seth and I weren’t related, thankfully.
“What do you mean he’s coming back?” I haven't seen him since we were kids. I was fifteen when they carted him off to military school. Last year, I received a letter from his academy. They told me he had been killed.
Not that I went to his funeral.
Was there even a funeral?
“He’s dead.”
Peyton’s lips have become a grim line and Uncle Benji can’t even look me in the eye while he shakes his head. The other board members, Grace Harper and Harold Parker-Black, both look at me uncomfortably, shifting in their seats.
“Your step-brother, Seth Montford-Darlington, was severely injured in combat for a while…” Sully pauses, as though uncertain, looking around the room. “I’ve been told that he’s well and will soon be coming home.”
"Is he here for his share?"
Of course he is, why am I even asking?
Sullivan nods. "He hasn't officially come forward but he is still Nicole’s son."
"Exactly, he's Nicole’s son. We all know my father never left a will.” I shoot Sully a look. Careful.
Sully is the only one here who was there when it all went down. The legal advice privilege I have is the only reason he isn’t calling me a liar.
Peyton sighs. “Not that we know of Pearl, but he's your step-brother by right of their marriage. It was always intended that your father leave him some share of the company. It was funded with your step-mother’s money after all. ”
I slit my eyes, jaw tightening. I can’t say my step-mother was a gold-digger. When Nicole and Graham got together my father had his own fortune and empire. But slowly, he lost most of it to a hefty gambling addiction. It was lucky Seth’s mother allowed him access to the Montford fortune, enough to build it all back up. Although, poor Nicole was shareholder by name only at the end.
It’s Uncle Benji who speaks next. “So, that's fine isn’t it? Seth gets Nicole’s share, a minority partner with no voting rights?”
Sweat beads on Sully’s brow as he looks my way and then around the room. "It appears to be the case yes, but I must be transparent at this stage, I’m still looking into the details.”
I furrow my brow. “You're going to tell my step-brother how to screw me over aren't you?"
"No, that's not my job. I have both your interests at heart."
"Really? Since when? Did you have my interest at heart when Principle Vaughn was sticking his nose in where it shouldn’t belong?”
“Now Pearl…” Peyton coos.
I've had enough. None of them came to my aid when the principle at my old prep school was bullying me after my parents died, they don’t know what I went through. Only Sullivan… and he was about as useful as a wet blanket at the time.
I stand up, gathering my jacket and handbag ready to leave. "As the board of advisors at Darlington your job is to support the company. My company.” I pick up the file and brandish it. "This is your priority, please do sort it out.”
Harold shakes his head. “It’s not going to be easy one to trace."
I shrug. It's not like this is the first time this has happened. There are always assholes out there who want a piece of my inheritance.
Could it be my step-brother? No, it doesn’t feel like him. The Seth I remember wouldn’t stoop to such a poor tactics. He’s above all that, the good one, the clever one… annoyingly
"Pearl. Before you go..." It’s Uncle Benji speaking. His voice is gruffer than the rest. I pause at the door but don’t turn around. I know what he’s going to ask me.
“How are you doing?"
I like Benji but we don’t have that kind of relationship, especially not in front of the entire board. I let him see that in my expression and blow him a kiss.
He must get it because he grunts and scratches his chin. "I don’t mean to pry, but after everything that’s happened..."
“Do you mean my parents’ car sinking into the Thames or my step-brother not really dying? Or all of you deciding I can’t be on the board of my own company until I’m twenty-one and have graduated with full honors, even though I’m supposed to have inherited everything by now. Or do you mean the death threats and hate mail from every bastard who has been screwed over by my parents at some point in their pathetic lives and thinks they are entitled to a piece of the Darlington empire? Which everything are you talking about?”
He visibly flinches and then after a pause nods. “I know it’s been tough for you being on your own, but if you ever need to talk…”
Talking is the last thing I want to do. In fact, I'd rather stick a needle in my eye and do all those things in those pictures than actually talk about what really happened. Uncle Benji doesn’t know the half of it. I give my well-meaning advisor a tight smile and walk back over to the table, grabbing the folder, practically shoving it at him
"Just find the bastard who sent this and do it soon. College assignments start next week and I don’t…” A sharp pain shoots behind my eyes, making me stall. I take a breath, close my eyes and reopen them. Benji is looking at me, concern creasing the lines of his face.
“Are you alright? You’ve turned white.”
“I’m fine. Just... a headache that’s all.”
He nods and pulls the folder out of my clenched hands. I let him take it and rub my temple, smoothing out a stray wisp of hair which seems to have escaped, running my hand over the back of my head.
The french twist Tessa did this morning for college feels mussed-up. I pray it won’t need redoing. I don’t have time.
My watch says quarter past seven. I have about an hour and thirty minutes to get there.
Not for the first time do I thank my father for having the audaciousness to buy a private airfield just outside of Kingsnorth, and selection of 4-6 seater aircrafts to go with it.
Chapter 2
Pearl
The welcome speech is well under way when I arrive. Only the catering staff mingle outside, clearing up the evidence anyone was actually in attendance.
Breaching the heavy oak doors carved with the university emblem, I slip into the auditorium. As I knew would happen, a hush settles over the audience the moment I appear as hundreds of pairs of eyes turn on me. The chancellor standing front and centre at the podium keeps talking, brow furrowed.
Of course his brow is furrowed, I’m late. I should have been here half an hour ago.
And it was my grandfather’s billions that built half this damned college.
With that in mind, I take my time to walk down the aisle noting the dirty looks my fellow students, my soon to be business rivals once we graduate from La Rochelle, give me. Every single one of them has envy written on their faces. Despite the fact that each student here is an heir to a vast hotelier empire in their own right, they would prefer to be in my shoes.
I’m not just the sole Darlington heir.
With only two months until I inherit, I’m already acting president of Darlington Estates, a position of power every student here is striving to reach.
To my right I spy Felicity Jane Godfrey, aka ‘Flick’ to her followers on Facebook and Instagram followers and also quite possibly the only person here I trust not to sell me down the river for an exclusive with Hello magazine.
Don’t get me wrong, she’s a shark when it comes to all things PR related, and don’t ask me how we met because it’s a long story, but trust me
when I say she’s my only friend.
“Pearl!” Flick hisses, her not so subtle hand gesture indicating to an empty seat, causing everyone who was giving me evils to shoot her daggers instead. I push past the students in her row without so much as an apology and seat myself down in the empty spot next to Flick, smoothing my dress over as I do.
“What kept you?”
“Did I miss anything?” I say, keeping my voice low.
“Just the most frightfully boring address in the history of this archaic place. I swear Lord Carmel falls in love with himself every time he hears his own voice.”
“How was the arrival?”
“Perfection as usual. Whitby, Fairfax and Bowes-Lyon couldn’t keep their eyes off you. Spencer and Craven pretended not to look but their PAs were taking notes.”
Flick is referring to the CEOS of all the major hotel chains in England and Europe, the fathers not the sons. I have no interest in the sons. Well, except one. “What about Gladstone?”
“Oh, he was checking you out. His mother too. Did you wear that dress on purpose?”
“Everything I do is on purpose.”
Flick snorts, making me laugh.
The parent of some poxy, non-existent hotel chain in front of us turns around to glare. Flick snorts some more, eventually choking on the snigger sticking in her throat, while I smile sweetly, batting my eyelashes and licking my lips until he turns bright red and looks away.