Alpha Prince (Twisted Royals, #1)

by Sidney Bristol

  “You think someone killed her?”

  “I know someone did, and I’m pretty sure Julia was involved with that, too. That whole year before Mom died, Julia was everywhere talking shit about Mom. Starting rumors. You say enough stuff, someone will listen. Mom hated what Dad was, what he did, but she wasn’t the type to turn her back on the family. It was a weird relationship. I talked to Mom twice before she died while she was in custody, and something just wasn’t right.”

  “You talk to your cousin still?”

  “Every couple of days. He’s been mostly texting me lately.”

  “Text him then, maybe he can tell you somethin’.”

  “My phone’s dead.”

  “We can fix that. Give it to me. So, how’d you end up in Seattle?”

  Taylor chewed on her lip.

  This was the line.

  How far was too far?

  What was too much to tell him?

  “George is my biological father.” It was the first time Taylor had said those words out loud. They felt funny on her lips.

  “What?” Ian whirled around, eyes wide.

  “Yeah. My dad was sterile. Couldn’t have kids, but Mom didn’t know, I guess. She had an affair with George. He was the guy next door to her growing up, so they had history. She was forced to marry Dad because she’d been one of the few still-living Colombo great-whatever-grandkids. I was around ten when she told me the truth, that I wasn’t really Dad’s kid.”

  “So, you—what? Thought he’d protect you?”

  “No, I thought I could hide in his shadow. And a part of me wanted to meet him. When I found out about Stacey, that was sort of it. I’d hopped a couple of cities, and settling in here seemed like a good idea to bide my time. See if anything happened.”

  “What about the files?” Ian plugged her phone in and returned to the coffee table.

  “What about them?” She’d already said enough.

  “Where’d you hide them?”

  “They burned.”

  “No, they didn’t.” Ian leaned toward her. “You’re smart. You hid them, because in a pinch, that might help you get away.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Taylor, I’m tryin’ to help you.”

  “No one can help me. You shouldn’t either.”

  “Maybe I can. I know some people. Owen’ll help. He’s a good cop.”

  “And you’ll all be in danger because of me. I’m not sure I can make that call.”

  “You haven’t had the right people to trust. You’ve been workin’ this alone.”

  “I went to the FBI.”

  “You tried to. What we need is a forensic accountant to go over the files. They’d be an impartial party to prove that what you have is good intel. I know a couple feds. They’re good people. We can hand them this case.”

  “I’m not sure about that, Ian. I don’t want anyone else to be a target because of me.”

  “I’ve handled worse. Trust me, Taylor.”

  She bit her lip and stared into his eyes. He knew most of it, if not all of it, and he was still there. What were the chances she could trust him completely? Did she dare risk more lives in the name of justice? If she didn’t who would?

  Ian snipped the tags on the clothes and handed them through the door. He’d seen Taylor naked and in the shower a dozen times over the last week and yet she was shutting him out now.

  She wanted to do this alone, to keep anyone else from being hurt.

  He doubted he knew the whole story still, but enough of it was knocking around in his head to pacify his conscience.

  Taylor was a good person.

  She’d tried to do a good thing.

  And hell had come crashing down on her.

  Zain was going to have his ass, but Ian couldn’t turn his back on someone who needed him. He’d seen too many things that could have been fixed—and weren’t—during his stint at the UN. This? With Taylor? He could help. They could make a difference in so many lives.

  Ian checked the time.

  They’d left the crime scene close to six. Kade and his crew had dropped them at Ian’s apartment close to seven. It’d taken them a half hour to get to the crash pad, another hour or so to have the whole story out of Taylor and then half an hour to wash up and find her some clothes now that the shops were open.

  “Do you buy clothes for all the girls?” Taylor pulled the bathroom door open. Her hair was tied up, droplets of water clinging to her face. He’d picked sturdy jeans and a dark-colored shirt to blend in, but on her...? Damn. She was still a standout in a crowd.

  “I don’t kiss and tell, darlin’.”

  She slipped past him. Or tried to.

  “Hey.” He grasped her hand and tugged her back.

  Her chin thrust forward and she glared at nothing. She was scared. Which, in her position, meant pushing everyone away. Ian had seen it a hundred times working for Aegis. Fear made people do stupid things, like cutting themselves off from anyone who could help them.

  “I go shoppin’ on occasion for Chloe and Delilah. Before, it was hard to manage her wheelchair, now it’s her crutches. Little thing’s so independent, she wants to do everythin’ herself. A lot of time, it’s just easier if I run out and grab what they need.” He turned her hand around, threading their fingers together. “You can’t chase me away, Taylor.”

  Ian leaned in and kissed her temple since she still wasn’t looking at him.

  How many people had let her down? Abandoned her?

  Words were good and all, but he’d have to prove himself to her.

  He let go of Taylor’s hand. She crossed to the vanity and began wringing out her hair.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “This?” He gestured to the one-room apartment.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s just a place a friend of a friend owns for when he needs a place to sleep.”

  “Oh.”

  He watched her methodically squeeze out extra moisture. She always took care to straighten her hair, even if she was just putting it up. Otherwise it was a riot of curls. Another blending in method? He wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

  “Did you talk to your accountant friend?” she asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, I did.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Taylor’s reflection stared at him, the harsh vanity lights washing out her face.

  “I am.”

  “You could be putting your friend in danger.”

  “I’ve got it covered, Taylor. Trust me, will ya?”

  “It’s hard to trust people.”

  “I can imagine in your position it’s damn tough.”

  “My ex-husband thought he could marry his way in through me, you know?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he saw me as an easy meal ticket.”

  “You don’t need someone like that.”

  “No.”

  She dropped her gaze and went back to wrestling with her hair.

  Ian would see this through. And then what? Where would Taylor go? What would she do?

  He hoped she’d stay close. Her half-sister was here, and so was he.

  Usually, Ian liked his relationships short and to the point. It wasn’t like he was going to be around, work a nine-to-five job, and go out on the weekends. That just wasn’t him. But Taylor...she didn’t expect anything from him, and for some reason he wanted her to. He wanted to be the shoulder she leaned on. The person she turned to. He couldn’t fix her problems, but he could help. He could be by her side, with her through this and more.

  He liked her.

  More than like, he respected the kind of metal it took for her to do what was right, no matter the cost to her personal well-being or safety.

  She was like him.

  They were...the same.

  Two sides of a coin.

  That knowledge hit him upside the head like a twenty-pound weight, leaving him reeling a bit.

  “You
okay?” Taylor turned to peer up at him.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. You?”

  “Yeah, you just looked a little funny.”

  “Probably tired. And I’m starving. You hungry?”

  He reached out and ran his hands up and down her arms.

  This felt right, whatever it was.

  “I could eat, but we should probably get the files and hand them off to your friend, first.”

  “How about we grab somethin’ on the way and celebrate the delivery with a big brunch?”

  “I could do that.”

  “Great.”

  Taylor stared up at him, a slight wrinkle marring her brow.

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” she asked.

  “Because...it’s the right thin’ to do, and I’d never turn my back on you.” He cupped her cheek as the feeling of rightness spread through him.

  This was...new. Different. An unknown.

  He loved her.

  He’d never loved a woman, just his sister and niece.

  Funny, he’d thought that if this ever happened to him, he’d be scared shitless. He wasn’t scared at all, just...determined.

  Ian bent his head, brushing his lips across Taylor’s.

  Yup. Right.

  “Come on, let’s go get the stuff.”

  The sooner they got the files looked at, the quicker they could turn the evidence over and the faster he could settle in to winning Taylor over. He had the sneaking suspicion, it’d take more than fending off the mafia to show her he wasn’t about to bail.

  17.

  Taylor sank down deeper into the seat. Getting the files out of the safety deposit box had been an easy enough task. Ian had laughed when he’d seen the place. She’d picked the credit union on the basis that it was located next to the police precinct and therefore less easy to break into. Or at least less appealing.

  Turning everything over to Ian’s friend, having the files out of her possession, felt a lot like losing control. Their value lay in being the only copy. Not having them meant not being protected. And yet, she couldn’t do it all on her own. She’d tried. Several times, now. And all that’d happened was getting strangled and nearly set on fire.

  How she and Vito were still alive... That was a mystery.

  She peered once more at the shiny glass doors of the sky-rise building. Ian had promised it would only take a few minutes to drop the files off with his friend’s sister. Taylor hoped Ian knew what he was doing, what kind of trouble he was handing off to the poor accountant.

  Taylor pulled out her phone and checked the charge.

  Fuck it.

  She unplugged it and powered the phone on.

  It’d been over a week, maybe two, since she’d spoken to Vito. She needed to talk to someone that wasn’t Ian, someone who could help her see things clearly.

  She dialed Vito’s phone and waited. Even if he was sleeping in, which he liked to do, she was willing to bet he was up.

  The call rang twice, then went to voicemail.

  That was odd.

  She frowned at the screen.

  A text message chimed.

  Sorry, in the middle of something. How goes?

  Taylor sighed.

  Vito was officially in now. Up until the kill order on her, he’d been on the fringes with one foot in the family business and one foot out. They’d often talked about what they wanted. For her, the road was clear. Get out while she could. Vito? His options remained limited because he couldn’t force himself to leave his mother, even though she’d sell her soul for her next fix.

  If Taylor could save anyone in the world from their poor choices, it’d be Vito. He was a big guy because his body had to fit his heart, but he didn’t know when to say no.

  He was likely working on something for Julia or one of her associates. Taylor hated that faking her death meant plunging her cousin deeper into this disaster, but that’s how it was.

  Hadn’t heard from you in a while. What’s up? We need to talk.

  Come to think of it, the last they’d chatted was over two weeks ago. Vito was the kind of guy who didn’t like to text when he could pick up the phone and hear a voice. He always said his fingers were too fat to text.

  Nothing. Just busy. Text?

  Four words.

  That was it?

  Vito was a chatty kind of guy. Was he feeling the strain? If so, he needed someone to talk to. Like her.

  Call me later. We need to talk. You could be in trouble.

  She pocketed her phone and continued staring out the window.

  If word got back to Julia she was alive, then things could go sideways for Vito fast if they hadn’t already. All it would take was a phone call. The family didn’t suffer mistakes or accidents. If it came to light that Vito hadn’t killed her, that he’d lied, Julia would have him killed. Taylor could only hope that Vito was being ultra-careful.

  The locks disengaged, and Ian climbed into the driver’s seat.

  She glanced from the building’s doors to him.

  “Where’d you come out of?” she asked.

  “Side entrance. I walked down with Tali. She’s on her way to see her brother.” Ian started the truck.

  “Tali? That’s the accountant?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “Remember a guy dressed as a sultan in the dancin’ video?”

  “Yeah, he was kind of hard to miss.”

  “That’s her brother, Zach. Good people. Tali’s husband is sick or somethin’, so she’s takin’ her work home.”

  “This prince thing—you guys are all pretty good friends?”

  “Yeah, they’re all great guys.” He started the SUV and steered them out onto the street.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Well, Tali will need time to go over and audit what we gave her. She said it’ll take a couple of days. So, it’s time to take a breather and get some rest. I figure we could both use a good nap and then a meal.”

  “For sure.” Taylor watched the people rush by. “What do you think is going to happen to Stacey?”

  “I know Owen was pretty keen on getting’ a look inside George’s house.”

  “He knows what George does?”

  “Not for sure, but Owen’s a good cop. I think he read between the lines.”

  “You told him something?”

  “Just that if I were a cop I’d want a look downstairs.”

  “I tried to ignore the basement.” Taylor sighed and closed her eyes. “It was hard coming back to live with Dad after Mom died, knowing what was going on, that it was wrong. But what could I do?”

  “You were a little girl.”

  “Yeah, but I still feel like I should have been able to do something besides escape sooner.”

  “Don’t think like that.”

  “How many people could I have saved, if I’d said something then? Gone to the police?”

  “And what would have happened to you?”

  “Julia would have probably killed me herself. Dragged me down to the basement.” Taylor shuddered. “She locked me up down there a couple times.”

  “What was in the basement?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Mom used to tell me to never go down there.”

  “But you did?”

  “Yeah. The old concrete was stained red all around a drain. When I was little, I used to think the house was haunted, and maybe it is. I’d be willing to bet the ghosts I thought I heard, though, were really people in the basement. Dad brought in some guys and had them lay new concrete after a bad year. It was...a year or two before Mom died. You can imagine what happened downstairs.”

  “Shit. Taylor. I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Me neither.”

  They lapsed into silence, listening to the radio all the way back to the apartment. Ian stopped to grab them an early lunch, but she wasn’t hungry enough to eat again. When
they got back she crawled straight into bed, exhaustion weighing her down.

  Ian didn’t say anything. He just stashed the food in the microwave, toed off his boots, and slid in behind her, pulling her up against his chest.

  It shouldn’t feel good to be wrapped in his arms. Leaning on him for support, physical or emotional, was a bad idea. She had to be prepared to push forward on her own until the very end. But right now, it was oh so nice to have him there. She didn’t want to think about what would happen when he left. Because everyone left. That was just the way of it. Taylor had learned to be strong for herself. Her mother had taught her that much before she, too, bailed from Taylor’s life, leaving her to face her father and step-mother alone.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Adult Taylor knew the difference. She had the facts, but it hadn’t helped her back then.

  If Taylor were honest with herself, she wasn’t surprised by her mother’s sudden departure. Had she been upset? Yes. Given the option, Taylor would have rather gone with her mother, but she had to wonder if it’d even been an option. The events surrounding her mother’s death were complicated and murky. Looking back, Taylor had to wonder if her mother had sent her away to school to protect her the only way she could.

  Which made Taylor think of Stacey. Taylor had come here to find out more about the sister she’d never known about. To love her. And now, Taylor was going to have to leave in an effort to protect Stacey.

  She was closer to Ian than she’d ever been to the people who raised her.

  Taylor nuzzled his chest, finding a way to get closer still.

  He would leave, too.

  And it would hurt.

  But she would go on. Right? She could do that, until her dying breath.

  Her heart thumped against her ribs, protesting that thought.

  Too bad feelings didn’t rule the world, or else maybe this thing, this intended fling, could be more. But that was a fairy tale, and this was her real life.

  Julia stepped back, giving Vito a critical eye.

  The cream had made the rest of the swelling go down, but there was no hiding the bruising. He’d just have to look like someone’s whipping boy.

  “What are we meeting Danny about?” Vito asked for the third or fourth time.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I should. Danny asked me for this meet. He’s going to expect me to answer some questions.”