Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point Book 4)

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  He swallowed, blinking, and pocketed it. “Right. Let’s do this.”

  DA Miller disappeared toward Crowne Hall, and I searched through the crowd of diamonds and ivory tulle dresses. Lottie was at the edge of the stage, holding a glittery feathered mask to her face.

  When she saw me, I nodded.

  “Crowne Industries and Du Lac Enterprises becoming one,” Lynette said. “It’s what Arthur would have wanted.”

  Lynette and my grandfather raised their crystal glasses. “To a new era—”

  “That’s going to be a problem…” Lottie stood up. “Because you don’t have a company anymore, Beryl.”

  STORY

  “S-sweet pea?” Lynette sputtered at the sight of her daughter. “What’s happening?”

  I wondered what had gone through Lynette’s mind all the time her daughter had been missing. She didn’t look happy to see her now…she looked distraught.

  Lottie sighed. “You’re about to witness the hostile takeover of Crowne Industries and Du Lac Enterprises…Never in a million years did I think I would help my husband plan a mutiny of my family’s centuries-old business for his mistress. But…” She clutched her tummy. “But, I guess the real reason is we had no say in how this marriage began, but we can decide how it ends.”

  “Antionette!” Beryl called for Tansy, finally spotting her resting leisurely against the fountain as swans flapped their wings, water falling off the feathered tips like glitter.

  “Where the fuck is everyone, Antionette?”

  She shrugged, and took a sip of the night’s specialty cocktail—a phosphorescent vodka that glowed like moon water. I had to admire her in that moment. Even as the world she knew burned down around her, she made sure the night’s menu was perfect.

  “It seems everyone has…” She looked around, unconcerned. “Lost their way.”

  His brows popped. “Lost their way?”

  She shrugged again.

  Beryl took a step to her, but someone else stepped in the way.

  Grayson.

  He hadn’t spoken yet, but I know his profile like the blood in my body. His ridged nose, his plump pink lips.

  Oh, fuck.

  My chest expanded like a balloon at the sight of him.

  I took a step to him before I’d realized it—then dug my fingers into a tree beside me, physically restraining myself.

  He thought I’d died. All this time, thinking I’d died? That we’d died. What had that done to him?

  The urge to run to him was like the tide dragging me out to sea, but for just a little while longer, I had to stay hidden.

  Be the girl behind the girl.

  “You probably could have kept Mom under control,” Gray said. “But you did the one thing you shouldn’t have. You threatened her child.”

  Dawning slowly spread on Beryl’s features, and he searched frantically around him—for his guards, that weren’t there.

  For anyone.

  The only people who’d been allowed to stay were a crowd that would turn on him, paparazzi that would descend like vultures.

  And they watched eagerly.

  “You can try calling security,” Grayson said. “Won’t do shit since they’re probably halfway to Mexico, and by the time you hire new guards, you’ll be in jail.”

  When you look at a Crowne, they ruin your life.

  When you cross a Crowne…they make sure you wish you’d never been born.

  I was never more aware of that than now.

  Beryl laughed. “You think it’s that simple? I spent decades—”

  “Blackmailing. Threatening. Murdering,” Grayson interrupted. “There’s a whole slew of paparazzi out there, wondering about a poem that paints me as an adulterer.”

  Something was building. With the glimmering water and swans and lights, with the smell of fresh night blossoms and salt air that had become ubiquitous with my love for Grayson.

  It built and built.

  Hope.

  Real hope. Because we were almost there.

  “And the video that proves it,” I said, lifting my mask.

  GRAY

  Story revealed herself, lifting the white feathered mask from her eyes. Her big, walnut eyes found mine.

  The world faded away.

  Safe.

  She was fucking safe.

  Neruda, she mouthed.

  Maybe this was what all these months of silent torture had been working toward.

  This moment.

  So I could look my wife in the eyes and know she loved me, even as I had to restrain every throbbing muscle from running to her.

  Because we were almost there.

  “Charlotte du Lac will get everything,” I said, tearing my eyes from Story. “The entire company.”

  Beryl laughed. “You mean I get everything? I’ve already absorbed Du Lac Enterprises.”

  Lottie’s soft voice. “That’s too bad. Grayson had a postnup drawn up.”

  “You taught me well, Grandpa. All those lessons in hostile takeovers I was forced to take instead of doing shit like, I don’t know, climbing trees.”

  You could see the color slowly drain from his face as he realized what was happening.

  “Your whole plan was to screw each other over—using us as puppets. Using my body. Using his. And now it has fucked you.” Lottie said it without emotion.

  “Charlotte.” Mrs. du Lac gasped.

  “No one really thought much of me,” she whispered. “But I’m giving it back. Well, to whatever company Grayson forms.”

  “I will lead this generation into a new era, as CEO of Crowne Enterprises, and Lottie will lead Du Lac Enterprises. And I’ll leave you with what you left me. Strings. Iron ones.”

  Grandfather laughed. “You’ll need more than one mistress to form a company.”

  “I’ll have a wife, two sisters, a mother, and three half-siblings.”

  His eyes grew. “You would give it to the bastards?”

  “I’ll give it to my brothers and sister. I’ll do what you couldn’t do—I’ll acknowledge our family and be stronger because of it.”

  As if on cue, my half-siblings slammed into my side. “He means us,” Jo said, pointing to her chest, then she spun to me. “Destroying-Draconian-castes-and-talking-to-your-brother-and-sister-for-the-first-time-in-your-life five.”

  They all lifted their hands for a high five.

  I exhaled.

  They were still fucking high.

  Still, I pressed my hand to theirs. In that moment, something happened. Like the rotted ghost vines wrapping around Crowne Hall suddenly fell to the ground.

  My grandfather’s brows drew, looking between us.

  “Yup,” Charles nodded. “We only slightly hate his guts now.”

  “But you still suck major dick,” Keller added.

  Sirens sounded in the distance, and my grandfather turned to their direction.

  “Those are for you, Gramps,” Jo said. “Hope you liked my tits. That’s the only spank bank material you’re gonna have for a while.

  “It’s for killing our father,” I gritted, resisting the urge to rub my fucking head, looking away from Jo. “For killing my stepmother, for killing West, and for killing Arthur du Lac.”

  He scoffed. “You don’t have proof of that.”

  “It’s amazing the things you can overhear when you think no one is listening,” Story said quietly. “When you don’t pay attention to those you think are below you.”

  I think that was the moment my grandfather realized he was about to lose.

  His face completely changed, his smile gone.

  I don’t think in a million years they expected us to work together, because even as they had worked together, they’d conspired against each other.

  He reached into his pockets, looking for the coins—then froze, furiously digging in his pockets. When he realized there was nothing, he jerked his head to Story. “What did you do with it, you little bitch?”

  STORY

  Stol
en.

  I glanced at Grayson and Lottie, who subtly nodded at the triplets. They’d stolen back the coins? Which meant…I had a free wish.

  I thought about what my uncle would have wanted. What I wanted.

  I pulled the coin out of my pocket, and Beryl’s eyes bugged.

  “Those coins were not meant for someone like—”

  “Like me? Maybe, but my uncle’s dying wish was for someone like me to have one. And I wish…that someone like you didn’t have power. I wish that my daughter won’t know what it’s like to have to hide from someone like you. I wish that we were free to love, away from someone like you. I heard that these have the power to raze countries and make kings. So…” I stared at the coin between my thumb and forefinger, glinting beneath the firefly lights. “I’ll take your kingdom. I’ll take back my home. I’ll take Crowne Hall.”

  He sputtered. “I’ll challenge.”

  “Crowne Hall doesn’t belong to you anymore, Grandpa. You have no right to challenge.” His eyes bugged as Grayson’s meaning slowly washed over him. “That’s what happens when you put up your house as collateral.”

  A slow smile spread my lips, and I turned to Lottie, handing her the gold coin.

  “You don’t need to give this to me,” she said. “I’m giving you everything back.”

  “I do. I really do.”

  She took it, staring at it with wide eyes. I don’t think she ever expected to hold something with so much power. Yet to me, it seemed right. Giving her the coin her brother had died to give me. Just as the coins exchanged hands, two men in blue pushed their way through the crowd.

  Beryl’s nostrils flared, his face growing redder and redder.

  “You!” Beryl lunged for me. “I lost everything because of you.”

  Before he’d even taken a step, Grayson ripped him back by the neck. “Get your hands off my wife.” Grayson shoved him to the ground, burying his nose in the grassy sand. “The only reason you’re alive is because of her. You should be thanking her.”

  “I didn’t do anything, Beryl.” I looked down on him, head tilted. “I just wrote a poem.”

  The restraint in Grayson was palpable, the veins on his neck and back of his hand throbbing. Then with a breath, he tore his grandfather off the ground and shoved him into the hands of the cops, who were all too ready to put him in cuffs.

  “Weak,” Beryl spat at Grayson’s feet, as they led him away. “I’ll be out within the week.” Beryl laughed. “These charges won’t hold. You’ll never stop me, Grayson. Even if you could, there are monsters in this world much bigger than me.”

  “They’ll hold, with sufficient motivation,” Grayson said. “Maybe I didn’t raze a country, but I destroyed you. You’ll never see those coins again. You’ll never see Crowne Hall again.”

  “You?” That’s when Beryl lost his mind, absolutely raving as the police led him away. Yelling muddled angry gibberish.

  It was the only time I’d ever seen him undone.

  I thought I’d seen glimpses of humanity in Beryl, like when he’d visited his granddaughter every year for the Swan Swell—yet he threatened Tansy to an inch of her sanity, and he abandoned his granddaughter without a second thought

  Was he a complete psychopath who enjoyed torturing people, or was he just a narcissist addicted to power, who didn’t care about the people he hurt?

  At least, I wouldn’t have to think about Beryl Crowne anymore, because Beryl Crowne would have nothing to do with my favorite Crowne, or Crowne Hall, ever again.

  Seventy-Two

  STORY

  Grayson’s eyes found mine across the police sirens and paparazzi flashes, zeroing, predatory—

  “What about me, what will become of me, Charlotte?” Mrs. du Lac whined. “Your father is dead—”

  “Lottie is welcome to stay, but you—” Grayson’s glare slashed from mine to Mrs. du Lac. “Get the fuck out.”

  Lynette’s lips parted.

  “Out of my house. Out of my town. Step foot in Crowne Point again—”

  “Grayson, I’ve known you since you were a child.”

  Grayson swiped the blood at his mouth. “Which is why I’m giving you a head start.”

  “You!” Her wide eyes landed on me, narrowing. “You’re the reason for all of this. My daughter has been in love with Grayson Crowne since before she was a teenager. They summered together, holidayed together. Everything was perfect. And then you came—”

  “Shut up, just shut up!” Lottie screamed.

  Lynette gasped like she’d been stricken. “Charlotte Genevieve du Lac.”

  “We all have rust on our hearts. We’re all chipped and flaking because of you. Do you know that I don’t even know what my favorite book is?” she yelled. “My favorite food? I tell everyone it’s Emma because you said proper girls read Austen. I tell everyone I like truffles because you said that they’re sweet and elegant and my food choices reflect on me. I like orchids because you said those were coveted and take work, and the man who marries me should know that.”

  “I’m your mother, Charlotte.” Her mouth hung open. “I know what you like better than you do.”

  “The things you told me to do…” She swallowed, looking away. “I listened to you. I trusted you.”

  “Necessary things, Charlotte.”

  “Necessary? I don’t know how I like to be touched because I spent all my time telling my husband to touch me the way someone else likes to be touched. I’m a mother and I have no idea who the fuck I am. You told me to be whomever he wants and I lost myself. I disappeared inside a dark shadow of someone else’s fantasy. I became pregnant by someone who can never love me because of you. I nearly ruined someone’s life. So forgive me if I don’t give a shit about what you think anymore.”

  For the first time in my life, I saw Lynnette du Lac speechless. Her perfect, lilac matte lips parted.

  Then she blinked, regained composure. “He would have ruined your life.”

  “My life was already ruined, Mom. You just wanted to take them down with me.” She inhaled through her nostrils. “And I probably wanted it too.”

  “You ruined this family, Charlotte. He’s going to leave you for her, you realize that, Lottie? He’ll leave you and your child. You’ll be nothing.”

  “Not nothing! I will be free. You all used me as a pawn. For months. No, years. When I begged you not to make me marry him, you said I would ruin our family. I begged for a divorce and you told me to get a baby. When I told you I cheated on him, you said that if he found out it would destroy a centuries-long reconciliation. It was all lies.”

  “You’ve been letting him walk all over you—”

  “Did you wonder where I was for over a month? Or did you hope I’d died? What about West? You just continued your life happily without the two children weighing you down.” Lottie tilted her head, as if finally seeing her mom for the first time. “What did he promise you, Mom? What was worth your son’s life? Your daughter’s happiness? Did he promise you Jack?”

  Her eyes popped. “West died in the tragic plane crash with your father and I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Liar,” Lottie wheezed. “You liar. You think I don’t know about you and Jack?” she screamed. “You love him. You don’t love me.”

  Mrs. du Lac paused, looking around at the gathered crowd. Her gaze shifted, searing into mine. “You’re a mother now. What would you do, if your child’s perfect life was about to collapse under the glass heel of one stupid, flighty girl?”

  I stepped closer. “I couldn’t care less about your opinion of me. I think it would be rather odd to put stock in the moral ramblings of someone so clearly devoid of them.”

  “It’s time for you to go, Mom,” Charlotte said, voice strong.

  “But first.” I handed my trash to Mrs. du Lac. “Could you please throw these away for me?”

  Mrs. du Lac sputtered, her nostrils flared, then she lifted her chin and walked through a slew of paparazzi at the gates.

>   Grayson’s eyes found mine across the police and paparazzi flashes. He pushed through the crowd, when a whirlwind surrounded him—paparazzi, police, greedy partygoers still dressed in their best. They all followed him, glued to his every movement.

  Beryl Crowne had just been dethroned, and they saw what I saw, the crown on his head, now straightened.

  If he couldn’t get to me, then I’d run to him.

  GRAY

  Paparazzi swarmed me while I looked for Story. I’d just seen her before they descended. Without any guards, it was a lot fucking harder to get rid of them.

  Grayson, how long have you known?

  Grayson, how do you feel now that you’re leading the company?

  Grayson—

  I pushed one out of the way.

  Grayson—

  And another.

  “Grayson.”

  I stopped short at one voice saying my name so different than the others. That husky, sweet tone that lived in my blood.

  Story stood in the middle of the paparazzi, a fucking vision in white tulle and bare feet. Her wild curls sticking to her face, her plump lips parted.

  I shoved the two paparazzi flanking her out of the way.

  I wasn’t sure if the pounding in my ears was the sound of my blood, my breathing, or the cameras going off.

  Story tilted her neck back to see into my eyes. “Hi, Atlas.”

  I crushed her to me, holding her between her shoulder blades.

  Breathing her in.

  I knew the cameras went off by the heat, and the click click click.

  “Who is she?” Flash.

  “It’s her—the Cinderella!” Flash.

  “Story Hale,” someone corrected. Flash.

  I pulled back just enough to pull out the locket she’d given me.

  “My wife,” I growled. “She’s my wife.”

  She ran her touch all over me, my head, my neck, settling atop my shoulders.

  She angled her lips to mine.

  I could feel the urge to kiss, it sung in my blood as well.

  I snapped the locket into place, holding my palm over the gold. The cold metal sandwiched between her beating heart and my palm.