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Rockstar vs Heiress

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by Adalind White




  ROCKSTAR

  vs

  HEIRESS

  Love in Illyria

  Book 3

  ADALIND WHITE

  www.adalindwhite.com

  Newsletter http://bit.ly/FeverDreamersBooks

  https://www.facebook.com/adalindwhite

  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/adalind-white

  Rockstar vs Heiress

  by Adalind White

  Copyright © August 2018 by Adalind White

  The timeline of this book overlaps partially with the DREAMS DUET, but you can enjoy this Duet on its own because it deals with events only hinted at in the previous books.

  In this book there are mentions of Andrew and Vy who were the main characters of Dark Dream and Light Dream, but no spoilers for those books.

  The following story contains mature themes and occasional bad language. It is intended for adult readers.

  This story is set in a fictional European country. Illyria does not exist. Please read the Author's Notes for more information

  All characters, names, events, brands, companies, and locations are created by the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, organizations, and settings is purely coincidental.

  If you enjoy this story, please leave a review. It would go a long way to help other readers who love the same things you do find this story.

  In my newsletter, I send secret stories sharing the fantasies the characters have about each other while they slowly burn before their Happily Ever After. These exclusive stories are not part of the Love in Illyria books published and they have of a more steamy-sexy-smutty (sometimes graphic) tone. http://bit.ly/FeverDreamersBooks

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Book 4 - Heiress vs Rockstar

  Author's Notes

  Chapter One

  Alice

  ANDREW KING wasn't the only one to bring his assistants to the kick-off meeting for Sing, season XI. Lauren DeSalle had both of hers, Ryann Ford and TC had only one each. Alice recognized Mark, the Waves' lead guitar sitting next to him TC.

  Robinson Dean went over the rules, and Alice split her attention between him and the others. After watching Sing for ten years, and reading all the material the network had given Vy before she entered the House last season, she probably knew more details than anyone in that room.

  TC's gaze passed over her without as much as a flicker of recognition. She must have made little impression on him when Vy introduced them a few months earlier. Better that way. Last thing she needed was him getting paranoid about what she and his protégé talked about behind his back. She wondered if TC's second assistant would be Vy after all.

  Although she was looking at Dean, she studied TC from the corner of her eye. Much like King himself, he seemed to have aged a decade in a short time. He was thinner, his cheeks were hollow and he looked more gaunt than she had ever seen him over the years. Torturing Vy probably took its toll on him as well. She refused to speculate on other, less professional reasons. Whatever TC did in his own time was not her business.

  When the meeting ended, King waved over one of the guys from the team. The young man came immediately with a bright smile on his face that got wider when they shook hands.

  The expression on his face was familiar. All her friends had it whenever Andrew King was around. King's earnestness had a strong effect on people. He inspired loyalty in anyone he worked with. Even someone as cynical as her was not immune to his charisma or she would have found a way to refuse his offer to work on Sing XI.

  "Good to see you, Mike," King said shaking his hand. "This is Alice. She will be my assistant this year. Can you give her a tour of the House?"

  She shook hands with the guy, who was still beaming at King. The man inspired man crushes wherever he went.

  "Sure thing, Andrew."

  "Thanks, man. Alice, give me a call when you finish, and we'll come pick you up."

  She pretended to listen to Mike as he talked about the Bracciano Mansion which for the next few months was going to be the Sing House.

  Alice knew the real history of the Bracciano family and their whole estate. They were one of the old families who had been unlucky to lose their fortune. After the monarchy had ended, and the great wars had put their mark on Illyria, the Braccianos had faded into the pages of history books. Unlike some other old and cunning families which had survived and flourished after the wars. The Cesaras, the Orsays, and the Montrachets were just the few she was personally connected with. The Sinclairs and even the Lewises were considered young families by comparison.

  When the mansion came into view, her first thought was that Vy's assessment from the year before was correct. The old place was built very much like the Montrachet mansion, Leonie's house. The Cesaras' ancestral home had been destroyed during the last War, and they had never bothered to rebuilt it when they rose back into prominence. From period photos, the Cesara castle was a hulking monstrosity. No wonder the more refined new generations had chosen not to revive it.

  Her grandparents' castle was a relatively new building, not even two hundred years old. Compared to the extravagance of the Pellerin castle, the Bracciano mansion seemed plain on the outside.

  Mostly rectangular, it was symmetrically split into an east and west wing. IBC kept the exterior a bland shade of beige that made sure to remove any traces of personality it might have had.

  The large entrance hallway didn't resemble the Montrachet mansion with its revoltingly modern interior design. That place had Leonie's personality stamped on it and Alice felt guilty to adore it despite the jarring discrepancy with architecture.

  The Sing House kept much of the original furnishings inside, starting with the huge chandelier in the foyer at the entrance, and continuing with the marble balustrade of the staircases that led to the upper floors.

  "Ask me anything you want to know," Mike said.

  Since King mentioned that he'd be in America a lot for the next few months, she needed to know if she could work with the team in his absence. She gave credit to Andrew for what she knew from reading the IBC's rules and regulations.

  "Andrew said that the Captains can go in and out of the House every time they want. Is this the same for the assistants?"

  "Not exactly. They can only go into the House outside scheduled practices with the team Captain."

  "But during scheduled practice we can be here without our Captains?"

  He nodded.

  Well, that was something. Scheduled practices could be any time from 9am to 9pm. She'd have to make sure they scheduled plenty of practices for her and David so they can prepare the contestants even when King was gone.

  "Can I see the music rooms?" Alice asked.

  She followed Mike up the stairs.

  "Your team will have number two. The Captains get the room number according to their rank the previous season. Do you want to go there first?"

  "Yes, please. Ours first, then the all the others."

  They went into the west wing of the house. The hallway opened into an antechamber with three doors. As she knew from Vy, Room One was in the East Wing and it had an antechamber all to its own.

  "Your Musi
c Room," Mike said, opening the door.

  He held it open, but he let her go inside alone. She was grateful for this unexpected courtesy. She needed to be alone to get the feel of the place.

  In the middle of the floor, a beautiful large piano reigned supreme. Sixteen chairs were lined by the wall, one chair upturned on top of another in eight neat pairs. Across from the door there was a large window.

  Alice opened the piano's cover and played the opening notes of the Illyrian national anthem. She nodded approvingly to find it well tuned, and closed the lid. She walked to the window and tried to orientate herself. Outside she could see a section of the parking lot, so they were facing the front of the house. South facing windows meant they would have natural light longest during the winter.

  When she came back out in the large antechamber, Mike jumped from the vintage sofa upholstered in dark red velvet.

  "Room Four," he said, opening another door for her.

  Ryann Ford's room that year. It looked a lot like theirs except the window faced west. Their piano was equally well tuned. Eight pairs of chairs were stacked the same way along the wall.

  When Mike opened the door to Music Room Three, Alice expected it to be empty like the others. Her heartbeat raced and her shoulders tightened at the sight of TC on the stool in front of the piano. When it came to him, the flight or fight instinct urged Alice to run.

  He jerked his head up from the sheet music.

  "What do you want?"

  "That's an awfully personal question," she answered without thinking.

  Spending much of her life with Vy and Sebastian Cesara was excellent training for spouting snarky replies when surprised.

  "Why are you in here? You're not allowed in this room."

  "The season hasn't started yet. I don't think the rules apply already."

  She didn't simply think the rules didn't apply. She knew they didn't.

  "Let me be clear," he said menacingly. "I don't want you in this room. Not now, not when the season starts."

  Her hair fell into her eyes when she bowed her head to acknowledge his request. She had to schedule an appointment with Didier to get her hair cut.

  Tim

  Anger flared through him when she came into his room. He'd been pissed off to see her on King's team earlier. He gritted his teeth. Vy's friend. The not pretty girl who had refused his autograph with a joke.

  He didn't give her the satisfaction to know that he recognized her. His pulse quickened at the same annoying little smirk playing on her lips, as if she didn't take him seriously. He'd had plenty of critics over the years and he didn't give a damn about any of them, but he hated that this slip of a girl wasn't in awe of him

  He took in the details of her bohemian appearance in a glance. A pair of designer jeans, a white shirt with some discreet black details at the edges, a leather jacket and a pair of shoes that possibly cost as much as the watch he had bought when the first Waves album went platinum. His years with Alba Richmond-Orsay had clued him in about the small touches of extreme wealth.

  She didn't scurry out of the room when he stood up. He took a few steps toward her, and she shrunk at his approach but still stood her ground.

  "I didn't intend to disturb you," she said politely. "It's my first time in the House and I needed to get my bearings."

  Her subdued tone made him feel silly. He overreacted to her presence. She would probably take it as one of his famous temper tantrums, but Tim hated that he was truly bothered by her intrusion in that private place. He wanted to find peace and quiet in this room.

  He thought of apologizing, and decided against it. He had a reputation of nastiness to maintain. She was close enough to catch the scent of cigarette smoke, leather and a whiff of a perfume he didn't know. Wood and flowers.

  "Fine. Welcome to the House," he said with a sarcastic bow.

  The girl avoided his eyes. She pressed her lips together in a slight grimace that turned into a wavering half-smile. She couldn't tell if he was joking or simply rude. He opened his mouth to spew a line that would tilt the balance, but he closed it again.

  Like the very first time they met, his hands itched to run through long toffee brown hair. It fell carelessly on her narrow shoulders, and for a moment he imagined the Viaverde breeze blowing through it to get it in that state. The long fringe covered her eyes and he had to ball his hands into fists to stop from reaching out.

  He wanted to see her eyes in the bright mid-morning light that shone through the window. She would look up at him and smile, grateful that he helped her see again. Her eyes would be warm...

  He shook himself inwardly. He didn't even know who this girl was, other than Vy's friend, and that she belonged to the very world he was trying to rescue Vy from.

  "Do you need directions to find the door?"

  She started at his harsh tone.

  "N-no. Sorry to have bothered you."

  He watched her leave, and wondered why had this effect on him. He should have just pretended to be annoyed, not actually feel his temples throbbing.

  He gave up on any attempt to find respite in this room. He might as well go to the Rose theater and prepare leisurely for the evening show.

  All Illyria knew Tim Carter as a singer and songwriter, but for the people in Orsino, he was also an actor. He'd been a part of the Rose theater since his childhood, when his mother, the famous Barbara Saxon, was the undisputed leading lady.

  Chapter Two

  Tim

  HE STEPPED ONTO THE TERRACE with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. His gaze swept proprietarily over the city as if it were nothing more than his backyard. Ever since he had bought the penthouse of the tallest skyscraper in Orsino, he felt as if he owned everything he saw.

  The white marble burned his bare feet. At 9 in the morning, the air was almost as hot as his coffee. His eyes followed the flashing lights of an ambulance. The sounds of the city didn't reach that height. Behind him, the French door slid quietly, and Tim tensed in expectation of the woman who joined him on the terrace.

  "Morning," Isabella said.

  He used to love her innocent voice, but now, in his home, in his own Royal Palace, her cuteness, unexplainably and unexpectedly, bothered him. She was the same sweet waif he had fallen in love with months earlier, and he could neither explain why it bothered him nor accept that it did. It was as if she was stuck in a role from a different play.

  "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

  "Verrrry," she answered with a purr.

  Isabella wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her chin on his shoulder. It took all of Tim's acting skills to conceal the tension he felt in her loving embrace. In that place, where he felt like the King of Illyria, he wanted a Queen by his side, not a pampered princess.

  He couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness. She had been a remarkable lady Macbeth the few times when she had played the role with him, while Simone had been ill. And yet when they were together, she seemed stuck at being 16. She would make an excellent Juliet. He made a mental note to talk to Lucian about staging Romeo and Juliet the next season. If he could act opposite his mother, he might be able to work with Isabella again. Lucian would probably point out that he was too old to play Romeo.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked.

  "I'm happy the morning sickness part is over."

  He turned his head and kissed her temple.

  "Glad to hear it."

  Her pregnancy hadn't been problematic. Or maybe she hadn't complained much. She hadn't even had unusual food cravings. He wished he could be more helpful.

  "Do you want to have lunch at Graziano's?"

  "I have a recording session from 11."

  "You work too much," she said nuzzling at his neck.

  He did and he liked it that way. His crazy work schedule was one of the reasons he didn't want to be in a committed relationship. But when she had showed up three months pregnant, she had taken the choice from him. He was determined to be a good father. If he would have
to cut down on work, he would do just that.

  Still, an appointment should be easy enough to schedule outside his working hours. At least until the new season of Sing started. Once the training sessions for his team started, he would almost live in the Bracciano mansion. He had to prepare Isabella for that.

  "Sing starts next week," he said.

  "I thought it started in September."

  "The auditions were last month. Now we start training our contestants, and filming the first shows. IBC will start airing the new season in September."

  "Oh, ok."

  "If you think I'm working too much now..."

  His voice trailed off, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

  "What would you like for breakfast?" she asked, heading back inside the suite.

  "No, I'm fine. I'll get something when I pick up Mark."

  Isabella stopped and turned to look at him.

  "You're going back to the studio?"

  "Yes. We have to work on the new album," he said, and held the door open for her. "Actually, I'm running late already."

  "Didn't you work all night on it? You came in a few hours ago."

  "I was with Vy," he said without thinking as he went into the kitchen to rinse his coffee mug.

  "With Vy," Isabella repeated following him.

  "Yes," he said in a tone that did not invite her to go on.

  Working with the previous year's contestants was something all the Captains did after the season was over. Isabella had been by his side during the season, and she had picked up on his interest in Vy. Their relationship at the time was already drawing to an end. He wondered if on some level Isabella had blamed Vy for their breakup three months earlier. It hadn't been Vy's fault at the time, and neither was his present coolness.

  He should have left before Isabella woke up. It was his own fault they were going to have that conversation again. He hurried into the bedroom.

  "She can't come to the studio at regular hours?" Isabella asked, standing in the door frame.

 

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