by G N Wright
Rebellion of a Kingdom
Black Hallows Book Three
G.N. Wright
Copyright © 2021 G.N. Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the authors imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons and things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
COVER DESIGN: Outlined with Love Designs
EDITOR: Samantha Bee
PUBLISHER: G.N. Wright via Amazon KDP
This is dedicated to Marcus and Elle. The first couple in my head to inspire me enough to write their story.
These violent delights have violent ends.
William Shakespeare
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
TRIGGER WARNING
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
TRIGGER WARNING
This is a full-length romance that is the third book of a dark romance series. It contains brief references to sexual assault and violence and other themes that some readers may find triggering.
Prologue
Zack
Three and a Half Years Ago
Iignore my phone for the third time, letting it ring out. Who the fuck is calling me at this time of night? Hell knows, but I’m not answering. I’m too focused on the training video in front of me. I’ve been doing some Krav Maga with a few old friends from Prep school. I continue to ignore the phone and study the fighting techniques on the video in front of me, observing, learning, absorbing. It’s something that has always come easily to me. Picking up new skills, learning new things, mastering new arts. It’s how at just twenty-one years old I have already made millions off security software that I invented. My net worth grows every day, and I am set to make my first billion, by the time I hit my next birthday.
Being raised by two extremely talented parents makes you want to push hard at everything you do. I want to show them how grateful I am for everything they have done for me. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without them. My concentration is cut off yet again and I curse before answering the phone ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off.
"What?" I snap down the line. Not many people have my personal number and I know the twins and my parents are already in bed. Who the fuck won’t stop calling me?
“Zack, this is Michael Riviera. We met a few months ago.” A deep, serious voice hits my ear.
“I remember,” I snap in irritation. Who gave him my number? Why the hell would he think he can call me like this? He may be friends with my parents, but I don’t give a fuck about that. A year ago, I found out I have a sister. She has the same birth mom; except she didn’t get left for someone else to raise. I’m thankful I ended up with my mom and dad, but I do wonder about the half sibling my human incubator actually decided to keep. Why her and not me?
“I still don’t know if I’m ready to meet her,” I add, before he can say anything else. Why the fuck would I want to meet the girl my biological mom didn’t abandon? What did she have that I didn’t? Besides, who says being blood makes you a family? I’ve got four family members all asleep under this roof that prove that’s bullshit.
“If that’s why you’re calling you’re wasting your breath.”
“She’s been taken,” he says evenly, hesitating slightly before he adds, “kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” I splutter, pulling the phone from my ear to make sure he’s still on the line. “What the fuck do you mean kidnapped?” I must have heard him wrong. I pause the video, finally giving him my full attention. If she had actually been kidnapped, he should be calling the police, not me. Why the hell is he so calm?
“Black Hallows is an extremely dangerous place, Mr. Royton. A lion’s den run by the devil himself. Your sister was offered up as collateral.” His tone is eerily void of any emotion, yet even though I barely know him I can still hear the undercurrent of panic lacing his words. While his voice remains steady, his words are rushed and firm, the complete opposite of his usual cheerful, content tone.
“I don’t--” I start, but I don’t really know what to say. I don’t know her, but she is still my sister. What if something were to happen to Lily, or Logan? They’re a pair of little shits, but I love them both. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t my blood, they are my family, and I would die to protect them. Would anyone do the same for her?
The overwhelming anxiety in my gut has me stumbling to the closet and putting on shoes before I can even process that I’m doing it. I may not be ready to meet her, but I don’t want it to ever be too late to even try.
"What do you need?" I throw on a light jacket and grab my car keys, hesitating only slightly before I unlock my desk and zone in on the unused handgun that lies there. I’ve never taken it anywhere but the shooting range, I’ve never needed to. It was something I bought after the first time I went shooting with my friend Max. We began training after that and he taught me to always be prepared for anything. I don’t think any longer before I pull it out and stuff it in the back of my jeans.
"I need you here within the hour, can you do that?" The relief in his voice also highlights his desperation. It must be bad if he is relying this much on a stranger to save her. I might have more money and influence than a lot of other people my age, but still, I don’t feel like I am up to whatever I need to do to help him.
"On my way."
I startle awake from the memories of that awful fucking night. I’d give anything to erase it from existence, but then if I did, I wouldn’t be here right now. Waking up on the sofa with my perfect, little niece asleep in my lap. I stroke a little blonde curl behind her ear as she snores softly. Elle was right, the little squirt has run me ragged, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Blood never meant anything to me growing up. I had my mom and dad and the twins and that was enough, but the first time I locked eyes with Elle it changed everything. I already had all the family I could ever wish for, but then all of a
sudden there she was. She looked so similar to me, even covered in blood.
Seeing her in that state struck me to my core. Like a direct fucking hit right to my soul. It changed everything and I knew she had carved a place in my heart, just as much as the twins. Except more. Not because she was my real blood, but because she desperately needed someone to protect her. Realization hit me back then that I was the lucky one. I spent so much time thinking that she was picked over me, but now I know that doesn't mean shit. All that matters now is that we’re family.
Careful not to startle my niece, I quietly reach for the remote and switch off Frozen. Cass fell asleep halfway through our second watch, something I knew would happen when she was yawning as she begged me to put it on again. I'm not ashamed to admit I know every song word for word thanks to her. I scoop her up into my arms and start towards the stairs so I can get her settled in bed.
The alarm for the security perimeter blares through the house as I reach the bottom of the stairs. What the fuck?
I’m immediately on guard. It’s too early for Elle to be home, but even so, she wouldn’t set the alarm off. All of us have our own codes for the gate and security has a list of approved visitors, none of which would be coming here at this hour. That means whoever is here, wasn’t invited. Fuck.
Cassie stirs slightly in my arms at the commotion, I rub my hand up and down her back in an attempt to settle her. I don’t know how to look after her and save her from whatever threat we might be about to face. Fuck. Ironic that the last time I felt this level of dread is the very night I was just dreaming about. The same fear I felt then courses through my body now. I was too late back then. I couldn’t save Elle from the terrible things that happened to her. I won’t allow the same thing to happen to my niece.
My phone vibrating in my pocket breaks me out of my thoughts. I maneuver Cass until I can pull it out and see it’s one of the guards stationed on the perimeter.
“Sir,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“David, what the fuck is going on?” I snap into the phone. I can’t contain the anger that pulses through me right now.
“I’m not sure. We’ve lost contact with the guards on the gate. Peter and I are doing a perimeter check now and --” BANG. The gunshot deafens me and cuts off whatever he was about to say. It doesn’t take fucking rocket science to figure out who is breaking through.
They found her.
The blood in my veins turns to fucking ice, how the fuck did they find us? I waste no time storming through the house until I reach Elle’s room. I head straight for her closet and push inside, popping the back panel to reveal the panic room I had installed. I punch in the code and enter, ensuring to close the door behind me. I tuck Cassie into the bed and then dial Elle on my phone. No answer. Fuck. I won’t let them have her. I can’t.
I open the safe and pull out the first gun my hand finds. I check it’s loaded and take one last look at my niece sleeping softly. I don’t know where my guards are or how long it will be until Elle comes home, but I can’t just stay here. The Donovan’s have already taken enough.
I feel a crushing sense of worry as I leave the panic room and lock her in. My heart pounding in my chest as I move stealthily towards my office, but as I'm near I hear footsteps coming towards me. Bracing myself, I push up against the wall, gun raised and ready to fire. I almost shoot until I see the familiar face.
"Peter!” I lower my gun, “I almost fucking shot you." I take him in, checking for injuries, he seems fine, but he looks startled and nervous. He’s only been with us a few months and so far, there hasn’t been any threats, so I guess I understand his unease. This is his first security job.
"Sorry, sir. Spitfire?" he asks using Cassie's codename.
"Secured in the nest,” I confirm while looking around. “How many?"
"Six, sir." His face is set in a grimace. He knows we’re outnumbered, but I can’t concentrate on that right now.
I nod my head. "Let's go."
We don't have to move far before I hear them. I look back at Peter. From the employment file, I know we are close in age. Right now, though, his youth is more apparent than my own. His discomfort with the situation is obvious. I can’t trust him with my life if he’s distracted. I signal for him to stay hidden and gesture that I will go first. I trust my own shooting to catch a couple of them off guard at least and then he can jump in and help. He shifts slightly on his feet before nodding. I don’t have the luxury of time to wonder anymore about whether he can handle this. I leave him behind and enter the main living area and come face to face with the last man I ever wanted in my home. Greg Donovan.
I don't hesitate in raising my gun and shooting the guy closest to me, clocking him right between the eyes. The silencer muffles the shot and I swing the gun to the left slightly as soon as he drops, giving me a clear shot to the fucking rapist piece of shit. I squeeze the trigger, but at the same time I am tackled from behind and thrown to the ground. My shot goes low, missing Greg completely and I fight to use my legs and flip the guy off me, giving me the upper hand. My victory is short lived, as I am quickly overpowered by the two men who join the fray. I manage to knock the guns from their hands, but one of them produces a blade and doesn’t hesitate in plunging it into my thigh and twisting it.
The pain is unreal, but I can't focus on my injuries when panic takes over as Greg Donovan appears above me. His men have forced me to my knees and rendered me to his mercy. How the fuck did he know to come here? How long has he known about Cassie?
Blood pours from the wound in my thigh, and hopelessness takes over. Even if chicken shit Peter waltzes in with the aim of a trained assassin, he would be overtaken by the crowd in this room. My only comfort is knowing that Cassie is safe, and Elle has the Rebels with her.
"Ah here he is, the man of the house.” Greg smiles like he’s really enjoying himself. He doesn’t even sound sarcastic as he says it. He’s sitting in the middle of the sofa with one arm stretched out across the back and the other palming a Glock. There are three men behind me and another two behind Greg. All of them ignoring their dead friend laying a few feet from me.
“What a pleasure to finally meet you, Zack. I'm sure I don't have to introduce myself." He preens at me as his hand curls around his gun. I’ve never wanted to kill someone more.
I am staring at the man who raped and tortured my little sister and he already has me on my knees and bleeding. This is not how I was trained, not how I imagined ever meeting him. I always thought it would be me overpowering him. If we were one on one, he wouldn’t stand a chance. I breathe through the numbness I’m now feeling in my leg from the blood loss, and stare back at him defiantly.
That feeling is soon squashed when Peter finally enters the room. Except the nervous kid I left in hiding doesn't come in guns blazing. No, the traitorous fuck walks in with a sleeping Cassie in his arms. No. No. No. Please no. What the fuck is he doing?
I scramble to move as Greg clicks the safety off his gun and aims it at me using it to gesture to one his men behind me. They move immediately, one of them kicking me to the floor so I’m on my back. He presses his foot onto the wound in my thigh and I have to grit my teeth hard to keep from screaming out.
“Peter,” I grit through my teeth. “Why? We trusted you.” I can barely get my words out, the shock of what I am seeing causes them to catch in my throat. My pants are coming quick and fast as the realization of what is happening settles in.
“He’s just returning my daughter.” Greg smirks at his victory as Cassie is placed in his arms. The worst fucking sight I’ve ever seen. His lips curl around the words ‘my daughter’ and my insides twist in disgust.
“I had no choice,” Peter starts with a tremble. “They took my sister--” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Greg puts a bullet in the center of his head. Again, the shot is quieted by a silencer, but Cassie still begins to stir, and I tremble at the thought of her waking to this.
Greg isn’t phased in the slightest by
the murder he just committed, just like I wasn’t when I took down one of his men. The only similarity between us, I’m sure. He curls the arm still holding the gun around Cassie.
“Where were we? Ah yes, the returning of my daughter.” He says the words so affectionately, but they still sound like poison coming from him. “It’s about time I welcomed her to the fold, I’ve already missed so much.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I spit out as the foot on my leg is pressed down further. I relish the pain as it means I’m still alive, still able to fight. The desire I feel to inflict violence on every single one of them outweighs any other emotion I could ever feel.
“Hmm, I can finally see the family resemblance,” he muses as he stands. He turns to leave before flicking his wrist at the guard pinning me down. “Dispose of the bodies,” he gestures to Peter and his dead man. Then looks at me adding, “Make him bleed slowly. I want Elle to come home to a nice little present before I bring her to join us.”
The last thing I see is my niece being carried away from her home before the bullet pierces my chest and blackness descends.
Chapter 1
ELLE
There is chaos in blood. Chaos in my blood. Fear, pain, regret, despair, death…. Blood. There is just so much fucking blood. It pours through my fingers as I desperately try to keep pressure on his wounds. He’s been shot. My brother and my savior has been shot. In our home. In our safe place. Right under our fucking noses.
There’s so much blood that it’s soaked through his once crisp white shirt, forcing it to cling to his skin. I can feel it pumping out against my hand as it spills its way out of his body, attempting to draw the life from him. It doesn’t matter how hard I apply pressure; the blood still continues to pour.
Fuck this is bad, so fucking bad. I hear Z’s voice in my head. Remember your training Elle. Panic is what will get you killed. How can I feel anything other than panic right now? My brother is bleeding out in my arms and my daughter is gone.