Crown of Thornes : a modern day royal romance

by Delaney Foster

  “Keaton?” My voice cracked.

  Jonathon crossed the room and handed Keaton a glass of whiskey. The gesture was familiar and intimate, the way two old friends would be. Keaton took a sip then tucked one hand in his pocket, appearing not to have a care in the world. My heart twisted into a knot as his eyes caught mine. “There’s something you don’t know about me.” I watched the words leave his lips, bracing myself for the inevitable blow. “My last name is Valetta.”

  Valetta. As in the capital of Torryn? Keaton Valetta. What did that have to do with this man and our farm, and why did I not know that until now? Because you wanted casual, remember?

  Jonathon strolled back to the other side of the living room, casually resting his butt against the wooden bar. “The Valetta and Bellizzi families are two of the oldest and most respected families in this country. If you joined forces against the king, think of what the two of you could do together. Think of the power you would have.”

  What in the actual fork? He was talking about joining forces and gaining power. He spoke as though we… they… could overthrow the king. The king! He was talking like it had already been all worked out, like it was the most sensible thing in the world.

  It’s bonkers.

  They’d lost their minds.

  Keaton pulled his hand from his pocket and stood up straight. “Jonathon bought the farm so you and your mother would have a safe place to stay after your dad died. But the king fucked it all up by taking you to Thornebridge Castle, so we had to find another way. We thought he would tuck you away somewhere. Hide you. Punish you for what your father started. But when I saw you in the library, I knew it had to be fate.”

  “So, this whole time you knew exactly who I was?” His cold gaze snapped up to mine. I knew affirmation when I saw it, and the truth was written all over his face. My stomach plummeted. “Oh God, you did. You were using me. It was never real.” This was it. This was my punishment for my father’s sins—a life of secrets and lies and moments that felt real but never could be.

  Oh my God, what if I’d been pregnant? I forced back the bile rising in my throat.

  “It was real. It was very fucking real.” He watched me with an intensity that made me shiver. “It still is. Now that you’re over this stupid infatuation with Sutton Thorne—”

  Is that what he thought he walked in on? An infatuation?

  “Sutton has nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh, but he does. That little fling with the prince almost fucked up this whole operation.” His eyes grew darker. Stronger. Scarier. “I can’t let that happen again, Katie. I won’t let it happen again.”

  I lifted my chin. “You’re out of your minds.”

  He laughed. “We know the king is dying. It’s only a matter of time. When he does, before his son has a chance to take the throne, it will belong to us. He won’t even know what hit him.”

  A man was dying, a son was losing his father, and all he thought about was what he could take from them. Keaton was a monster. Manipulating and ruthless.

  I swallowed shame. I slept with that monster.

  Jonathon chuckled beside us as if the idea of King Phillipe’s death amused him. I was an idiot for ever thinking he was a decent human. At least Keaton had his alarming good looks and fantastic penis to camouflage the evil underneath. This guy fooled me with a container of strawberries and a smile. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass then took another drink.

  I understood Keaton’s words even though they sounded completely foreign. Take the throne? How in the world did they expect to do that?

  “There’s no way you’ll ever pull this off,” I scoffed.

  Keaton finished off his whiskey in one long swallow then set his glass on a nearby table. “Matteo Bellizzi was a good man. A lot of people out there respected him. Adored him.”

  He gathered people… thousands of them… to fight with him. Sutton was telling the truth. The bile rose again. It was harder to fight down this time.

  “Followed him,” I continued, my breath no louder than a whisper.

  “Followed him,” Keaton repeated, and my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. “We have an army already, an army your father raised. Thousands ready to fight for our cause.”

  My dad raised an army to go to war against the king. Why? What could King Phillipe possibly have done to deserve that?

  I always saw my dad as a hero, and yesterday I watched as Sutton looked at the king the same way. I was quickly learning that there were no heroes. There were no villains either. Just a bunch of people fighting for separate causes.

  “I can’t listen to this. I need to go.” I started toward the door.

  Keaton grabbed my arm, squeezing it in his strong hand. “Don’t be stupid, Katie.”

  Jonathon set his now empty glass on the bar behind him. His face was a blank slate as he watched me walk away from them. “Let her go.”

  Keaton released his grip, looking at me with a softness that almost made me forget it was all a lie. I didn’t want to believe he was capable of all the things he just said. I wanted to see the good, but there was nothing good about what they had planned, about what my father had planned. My legs were weak, but I ran out the door. I ran down the road and past the train. I ran until my lungs burned. All the way back to the castle.

  Twenty-Four

  I either needed to get the fuck out of this castle or drink myself to sleep. Maybe both. Last night I went Katie’s villa because… fuck a last name—hers and mine. I couldn’t give two shits whose nuts she came from, and neither would the rest of the world if she would just give me the chance to show her. She wanted coffee? I’d buy her the whole goddamn café. And she would have the people of Torryn eating right out of her hands. She would win them over, exactly like she did me. She would see for herself. If she would give me a chance…

  As soon as I passed the fountain in the South Garden, I saw them. Keaton was at her front door. She looked at him as though he had the answers to every question she’d ever searched for. He turned to walk away, and I almost ran to her door and stopped her before she could close it. But he took one look at me with that fucking devil’s gleam in his eyes, then called out over his shoulder, “You made the right choice. You’re better off without him.”

  She chose him. She let me walk away, and she ran straight to him.

  Now, I sat in a leather chair behind my desk, twirling a pen between my fingers and listening to my mother go on about the importance of finding a “respectable” queen. Apparently, Dad told her his theory about Katie and me and started the shitstorm of the century.

  She paced back and forth on the other side of my desk. Her hair was pinned up, and her outfit was tailored to perfection. She carried on about “obligation” and “responsibility,” and all I could think about was that if… fuck that—when—Katie became queen, I wanted her hair down, flowing in those messy waves over her shoulders. She’d wear sundresses instead of Prada. And I was calling her Katie. Screw tradition and etiquette. Full names my ass. My mother was spitting the name Katarina across the room like it was acid on her tongue.

  “Katarina Bellizzi will not wear that crown.” She flattened a palm over her chest and heaved a breath as though even saying the words caused her physical pain. She stopped pacing and looked at me. “Are you even listening to me?”

  I leaned back in my chair and tipped my head to the side. “Considering you aren’t giving me much of a choice, yes. I’m listening.”

  “I’ve set up a meeting with Prime Minister Bellarosa’s daughter this evening. The staff is already making preparations.”

  By meeting, she meant date. She made a date for me. With Julianna fucking Bellarosa of all people.

  A little over an hour ago, I took an oath in front of Privy Council. By all rights and privileges, I was regent. I respected my mother, loved her even, but no one got to decide what was best for me, not anymore.

  I set the pen on my desk and straightened in my chair. “I’ll call down
and cancel.”

  Mom walked to the front of my desk, her delicate hands gripping the edge. She leaned forward and glared. “You may be acting as king, but I am still your mother. And I’m telling you to stay away from that girl.”

  There was a mental condition, a personality trait that some people had, where every time someone demanded they do something, they did something else just for spite. I had that condition. I was that person. Just like Dad telling me to either learn piano or French, and I chose both. Or the time he demanded I shadow our guards to learn their discipline, so I joined the military instead. My mother telling me to stay away from Katie only made me want her more. What I didn’t understand was why.

  “What could you possibly have against Katie Bellizzi? Her mother is your secretary. She’s practically the only real friend you have.”

  I watched Katherine with my parents. I saw how she cared for my mother. It was genuine. Anyone with eyes could see that.

  “My friend?” She huffed a laugh. “Sutton, please. Your father brought those people into our home out of some twisted sense of loyalty. I blame his illness for that insane decision.”

  Dad may not have been the perfect father, but he was a good man. He was a great king. Even when they tried to take his crown, he smiled at them with grace. Never regret doing the right thing, even if it’s for the wrong people.

  “Those people? Are you listening to yourself? And Matteo saved Dad’s life. Or did you forget?”

  Her expression morphed from simply being stern to full of hatred. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of my desk. “He tried to take your father’s throne. Or did you forget?”

  “The keyword being he. Matteo Bellizzi did that. His wife and daughter had nothing to do with it.”

  “Now you sound just like your father. The good thing is that once he dies, his obligation to them is over. We owe them nothing. We will make them leave. And that will be a hell of a lot easier to do if you aren’t sleeping with one of them.”

  Katie wasn’t going any fucking where, at least not if I could help it.

  “Make them leave? Katherine is your secretary for fuck’s sake. She knows everything about you.”

  A malicious grin spread across her typically elegant face. “Language, Sutton. And you know what they say. Keep your friends close…”

  And your enemies closer.

  Jesus, when had she become so cruel? The woman standing in front of me was not the mother I thought I knew. Katie Bellizzi and her mother were not the enemy. I was about to respond exactly that when a call from the guard’s shack came through.

  “I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness, but you said you wanted me to investigate the new owner of the Bellizzi Estate,” Antonio said once I answered the call.

  I placed my hand over the phone then glanced up at my mother who was searching my face for a clue as to who was on the other line. “Excuse me, Mom. I need to take this.” She let go of my desk and stood up straight, softening her features again. Her lips thinned to a strained smile. My eyes met hers in a firm stare. “Privately,” I added.

  Mom let out a huff of disbelief, then smoothed her hands along the front of her dress and walked out the door. I would find her later, because this conversation was far from over.

  “Go ahead,” I told Antonio once Mom was out of the room with the door closed behind her.

  For the next few minutes, I listened to him. Words like “mutiny,” “organized,” and “coup” came up a few times. I knew all that already, even though finding out the man who bought Katie’s farm was the new leader of the rebellion was a surprise. Dad had been dealing with it for five years. I knew by inheriting his crown that I would inherit his enemies. When the time came, I would deal with them my own way. What I wasn’t prepared for was what he said next.

  “One more thing, sir. You asked about a certain tram card activity,” he said, and his voice sounded distant, like he was afraid of his next words.

  “Yes. And?”

  “And she left this morning. About an hour ago.”

  “Her destination?” Nervous energy buzzed through my veins while I waited for his response.

  “The Bellizzi Estate.”

  An hour ago. That estate was about three miles away, meaning it would take less than ten minutes to get there by train. She’d been gone an hour. Why? Why the fuck was she visiting this dickmunch? Did she know what he was doing? Did she know who he was? Or did she just miss the farm that fucking much? I was tempted to buy it back for her, to keep my little sheep away from the real wolves, the ones who would tear her open and eat her alive.

  He cleared his throat. “Sir, there’s something else.”

  For fuck’s sake, what next?

  “She wasn’t alone.” He paused. “She left with Keaton Valetta.”

  Fuck. That.

  I ended the call then headed straight for her villa to wait for her to get home. If I was lucky, she would stroll through the door with Valetta on her arm. I could beat his ass and spank hers all in the same sitting. Going to her old house to meet with the man who wants my throne was one thing. Going to her old house to meet with the man who wants my throne with a man who wants my queen?

  That just changed everything.

  My lungs burned. My heart throbbed. My tears blinded me. My legs were so sore and unsteady they felt numb to the pain that shot through my ankles. My clothes clung to my skin, and I had tiny black remnants of asphalt embedded in my bare feet. I left my sandals somewhere on the side of the road. It hurt. Everywhere. I’d never run three miles in my life. As soon as I made it past the east gate and to my villa, the adrenaline that had pushed me forward left my body.

  I crawled up the stairs because it hurt too much to walk, leaving a trail of clothes behind me. I leaned against the cool tile and let the hot water rain over my body as I picked tiny pieces of road from the bottom of my heels. I was in too much pain to process what I’d been running from yet. I just knew I needed to run.

  Once my body was soothed—and clean—and I caught my breath, I wrapped a towel around myself and headed downstairs for a cup of hot tea. I just wanted tea and silence. The voices in my head had gotten too loud.

  He gathered people… thousands of them… to fight with him.

  We know the king is dying… When he does, before his son has a chance to take the throne, it will belong to us.

  I always thought it was because he was so ill. Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind. But now… Now I’m not so sure anymore.

  Prince Sutton requested an intimate dinner in his private chambers.

  I think we’ve both had enough moments for one day.

  Too many voices, and I wanted to silence them all.

  When I reached the bottom step, my heart stopped. Sutton sat in my favorite corner chair, one arm splayed across the back, legs stretched out in front of him with his tie unknotted and his shirt unbuttoned in that sexy way that said screw appearances, I do things my way. His eyes held a storm, raging like the sea but with a sliver of something else behind them. Vulnerability, maybe. Contemplation, probably. Sutton Thorne was never vulnerable. He never moved, not even when I took the last stair and walked across the living room to stand by the sofa.

  “How did you get in?” My voice was hoarse from the air that burned my lungs, from my mouth being dry, from sheer and utter defeat.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know the security codes for every building on this property?”

  I leaned a hip against the sofa and clenched the top of my towel, securing it around my body. “Right. Your castle. Everything belongs to you.” I repeated the words he’d said the first time we met.

  His eyes narrowed. Before I took my next breath, he was out of the chair and across the room. He stopped right in front of me, and his gaze seared me to the core. “So, you do remember what’s mine. For a second I thought you might have forgotten.” It had only been one day since we were this close, but I ached for it. I wanted it. My need for him had become its own
heartbeat pulsing between us. Throbbing. Pounding. I found my fix, the one thing that took away the fear, the hurt, and the anxiety. It was him. Sutton was my drug.

  He trailed a finger from my shoulder to my wrist. “You said you wouldn’t run to him anymore.” Back up to my shoulder. “What were you trying to prove?”

  He knew I was with Keaton. Of course he did. He was everywhere, all the time. I couldn’t escape him if I tried. Did he know about Jonathon too?

  Before I had time to ask him, he let his eyes fall from my face to where I clutched my towel to keep it from coming undone. He ran his fingertips along my collarbone, stopping at the silver cross that I never took off then moving to wrap around my throat. He squeezed hard enough to steal my breath but not hard enough to scare me. His sharp jawline clenched, and his eyes darkened. I wondered if I’d gone too far, if I had finally provoked the predator into destroying his prey.

  His gaze turned feral. “Were you trying to prove that we’re just a moment? That you aren’t mine?”

  My breath came in heavy bursts, lungs emptying then filling, heart racing, core throbbing. He leaned forward and hovered his mouth a breath above mine. He loosened his grip and brought his hands to cradle my face.

  His voice calmed. “Everything belongs to me, Katie.” He breathed in as though he were trying to fill his lungs with my scent. “Especially you.” He brought his mouth to my neck, and my nipples peaked against the cotton towel. “No more running away from me, little sheep.” One hand slid from my face to the split in my towel then between my thighs. “No more pretending this isn’t real.” He drew soft circles on my pelvic bone with his thumb while his other fingers slipped between my folds.

  I let go of my towel and grabbed his tie to yank him closer. I wondered if he felt what I felt, this desperate, clawing ache, a white-hot tension knotting in the pit of my stomach, an animalistic need. I hoped he did. I wanted him twisted up and lost like I was.

  “You walked away.” You shattered me. Just like he said he would.