The Making Of A King: The King Duet, Book 1

by N. M. Catalano

  Besides, she needs to know the truth. She deserves better. I didn’t know if she’d pull her pepper spray and blast me in the eyes if I tried to face her. So I wrote the note.

  Storm,

  I’m sorry, so fucking sorry to have put you through hell.

  That pick up was supposed to be the same as I’d done hundreds of times before. Not that. I swear to you.

  I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. I promised you I would never do that to you, and I meant it.

  I do have one confession to make, though.

  The man I was with in the alley was my father. I didn’t kill him, but I had every reason to, along with half South Harbor Island, believe me. He would never have won any Man Of The Year awards. He was a first class piece of shit.

  When I was five, I woke in the middle of the night and found him dumping my mother’s body in the swamp. I asked him what he was doing. He told me to go back to bed, mama wanted to go for a swim. Obviously she never came back. They used to fight all the time. I remember her telling me she was going to take me some place nice, just her and me. By the time I realized what I’d actually seen and confronted him, the old man told me I was an accessory and my ass would fry right along with his. He never missed an opportunity to remind me of that. He’d always been a mean bastard, but shit got a hell of a lot worse after that. I left when I was fifteen and never went back.

  You are the only person I’ve ever told.

  Whatever you think of me, and you have every right to think the worst, I am truly sorry for hurting you. You didn’t deserve any of my shit.

  Except that night. I’ll never regret it.

  Know that I wish you only the best. I told you, you are one of the strongest and smartest people I’ve ever met. Don’t ever forget that.

  Lucas

  My heart pounds against my chest as I watch her, wondering what thoughts are going through her head. Does she hate me? I definitely would. Does she believe me? Unbelievably, probably.

  I want to crash through her door and bulldoze over her just to hear what she has to say. I want to take her upstairs and get lost in her, chasing that feeling of salvation I was lucky enough to feel that one and only time we were together.

  But I don’t.

  She doesn’t need me coming in and ruining her life. Again. It was a dick move communicating with her at all. I had to. Despite it all, she deserved to know everything.

  Because I’m a selfish bastard, I couldn’t live with myself knowing she thinks I set her up. Whatever possessed me to tell her about my sperm donor, I wanted her to know the truth about that as well.

  I knew her father absolutely hated representing me, but he did it, after making me promise I’d leave his daughter alone. Forever. The guy’s a tough son-of-a-bitch, but he’s a professional. Evelyn is just like him, thank fuck.

  I didn’t tell him about the note I’d found on my car the night Franklin was murdered. That piece of information is mine. Did I withhold evidence? Probably. Do I give a fuck? Not even one bit. That is my business to deal with, and I will. In time.

  Evelyn, I tried to pretend she doesn’t exist, but she’s a fucking hurricane. You never forget them. She blew into my life and wrecked me.

  I’ll never forget her. Ever.

  I can’t tear my eyes from her standing there alone and breaking again, her silhouette rigid with her eyes glued to the page still clutched in her hands. She reaches up and drags her fingertips across her cheeks. She’s fucking crying. The bastard that I am eats it up. It gives me a glimmer of the salvation that night had brought me.

  She turns to look out the door again, searching for me, and her gaze falls directly to where I’m sitting. I jerk my head around, knowing she won’t recognize me in the beanie and the hoodie. I wouldn’t be caught dead in these clothes under normal circumstances.

  These aren’t normal circumstances. They haven’t been for over a year.

  I slap a twenty on the table and move through the café to the back door. My rental car is parked out back.

  I get in the car and start it up. I ignore the crushing pain in my chest. I’ve grown used to it, it’s become a part of me. I crank Linkin Park’s What I’ve Done on the stereo as I drive out of the alleyway, and Storm’s life for good.

  The only way I was able save her was to leave her.

  The End

  A Peek At Book 2 in The KING Duet

  All The KINGS Women

  CHAPTER 1

  The call came around three o’clock in the morning. Isn’t that when all things tragic arrive? Desperation and devastation, and every single monster comes to life. We aren’t immune, none of us are. Sometimes we create them, other times they are us. The strangest thing is I wasn’t surprised. Maybe I’d been waiting for him to call all this time, maybe I knew he always would.

  Maybe he knew it too.

  He knew he’d call me. Eventually.

  I heard it in his voice.

  My heart beat an erratic rhythm inside my chest, a normal reaction to an unexpected ringing phone in the middle of the night, but the moment his voice had come through, I was no longer the woman I am, but the girl from all those years ago. Three words and everything was gone, the time, the distance, the pain, nothing. It was just him, and me, and those words.

  “I need you.”

  I reacted the way I always knew I would; the way he knew I’d react. The same way I always had.

  “Where are you?” I didn’t hesitate.

  His reply came after a long intake of breath. “Jail.”

  I registered a wave of shock somewhere in my subconscious, but it was secondary to my natural instinct to go to him. First, as the woman who had loved him more than anything else all those years ago. Then, as an attorney.

  During the long drive as the sun broke over the horizon trying to burn the fog and the mist from the air, I flicked through the file in my mind of everything I’d read on him over the years. Successful, (heartless businessman). Wealthy (stinking rich). Shrewd (cold). Unattached (womanizer). Not the stereotype to spend a night in jail, although we’d both been there before. He’d changed from the person I’d known, but in some aspects he hadn’t. In each article I’d read over the years, in every picture he was featured in, and he was featured often because the press apparently loved him, he was breathtakingly beautiful. When we had known each other, he was a man/boy. Now, he was what every man wanted to be, and every woman wanted to belong to, just like back then. Now, he is larger than life. Even from my detached position, I knew he was the king in his world.

  As I crossed the bridge that led to the island from the mainland, to our hometown, I was almost in awe of the spectacular view I’d almost forgotten. The ocean was just a few short blocks from the top of the bridge, and it called to me the same way it had every other time I’d crested the peak in the past.

  I was tired, but alert. I knew he didn’t call me to catch up on old times. I’m a lawyer, he’s in jail. Why he chose me, because a man like him with his position and all that money, made me believe that this was a special kind of bad, just like before. I’m here to represent him, but I wasn’t sure I was going to, not until I heard what this was about.

  The small town where we’re from was just waking up, school buses were picking up kids, and people were heading out to work. I reached over and turned on the radio, looking forward to a taste of home.

  “Police confirm,” the news was on, “the body that washed up on shore late last week was a female, the fifth over the past six months.” Oh, my God! I turned up the volume, the story piquing my interest. “The Chief of Police has released a statement saying the primary suspect in the investigation was placed in custody late last night. A full investigation has begun.”

  My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  The air inside my car suddenly seemed to have disappeared as my breathing became labored. My vision receded to a tunnel as everything around me faded.

  It can’t be
, I felt myself shaking my head in disbelief and the rush of blood drain from my face in shock.

  There’s no way Lucas King is a murderer.

  It felt as if I’d been hit smack in the middle of my chest as the weight of the situation crushed down on me. All of the facts pointing to something so unbelievably farfetched, but still seeming to fit together. Everything within me screamed it couldn’t be possible, but my lawyer mind couldn’t help but snap the puzzle pieces together, the ones so perfectly aligned.

  Some commercial came on for a local business cutting off any further information from the tid-bit of news headline that left me confused and in disbelief.

  “It has to be some kind of wild coincidence,” I murmured as I signaled to turn at the intersection of the main road that ran parallel to the beach, the strip of asphalt I used to call the end of the world. Just beyond the dunes in front of me was the Atlantic Ocean spread out as far as the eye could see, the place where nothing else existed, or the rest of the world was just beyond reach.

  All The KINGS Women

  Releasing September 23, 2019

  Pre-order right here.

  Black Ink

  CHAPTER 1

  Gemma

  Desperate. I was absolutely desperate. I only prayed my nervousness wasn’t visible and they couldn’t see me shaking. I needed this job. No one would see me, not until now. I was being punished, black balled, because of something I didn’t do.

  That only made me want to fight harder.

  After Malcolm was arrested, the Feds took everything, seized the bank accounts, my house, the one my money mostly paid for, and took the cars. I lost everything. I was left with only my personal belongings. And a shitload of his debts.

  I couldn’t believe that I had to start from scratch…again. A polished, educated, professional woman, after years of building an impressive reputation, it was all destroyed by one man. My husband.

  Now I have the nerve to come to the man who had suffered the most from my husband’s actions, his extortions and embezzlements, and ask for a position with his company. It was all I could do to sit across from this kid who’d probably just gotten out of college and kiss his ass when I knew I could do his job better than he could, and prove to him, not that I would be the best choice for his assistant, but that I wouldn’t make him look like a fool because he knew he should be mine. The truth is I’m happy to have the opportunity to be here. There is no way I’m going to fuck this up. I would tell him whatever I had to, do whatever I need to do, to be this kids assistant.

  I had to force myself to keep from looking at the imposing figure who had built this empire, Alexander Black, standing in his glass enclosed throne room watching me. I could feel the weight of his stare bearing down on me. I’d never met him personally but I knew everything about him, his ruthlessness, that he grew up bouncing from one foster home to another, had minor scrapes with the law when he was a teenager, and his broken engagement in college from that Texas oil tycoon’s debutante daughter. After that, the only information about him read like a resume’. Until ten years ago when Black Inc. was born. From that point he hurled through the business world like a tornado, consuming everything in his way. If he didn’t take it over, he destroyed it.

  Alexander and Malcolm had begun what was called a merger, which was really a take-over, of Malcom’s software development firm. It was too late by the time Malcom’s Ponzi scheme was revealed and Alexander had lost three million dollars.

  I wasn’t involved with Malcolm’s company, never had been. I worked for a prestigious law firm in mergers and acquisitions. And when the shit had hit the fan with Malcolm, I got hit right between the eyes. I was fired before Forbes magazine released the details and my house was padlocked and surrounded by yellow police tape. My office had been cleaned out and boxes were filled with my personal belongings and were waiting for me downstairs at security the next morning when I entered the lobby.

  I was humiliated.

  Now, here I sit, my spine straight, across from this snot nosed brat, determined to clear my name and prove myself once again. The only way I was going to do that was working for Alexander Black. I had to kick some serious ass to disassociate myself from Malcolm. Alexander Black was the only way I could.

  And he knew it.

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Mrs. Stevens...,” the punk was saying.

  “Gemma. Gemma Trudeau. I’ve never used my married name,” I corrected him unwaveringly.

  Yes, lets, I’m tired of pussy footing around.

  I didn’t get my reputation by being intimidated, my poker face was securely in place.

  “How can you possibly think Mr. Black is going to hire you?” he said smugly as he sat back in his chair.

  “Mr. Davis, Alexander Black is a smart man. I’m good – very good - and he knows it. I would be an asset not only to you, but more so to him.” I was known for being shrewd, sometimes ruthless, but always successful.

  It was simple. I knew it, Alexander Black knew it, this kid was the only one who didn’t.

  The real question is, how is Black going to play?

  I felt his eyes penetrating me through the glass wall across the room. I didn’t flinch under the weight. I lifted my gaze to look directly into those eyes that I knew hadn’t left me while I sat patiently during my time with this newbie who’d, I’m sure, recently finished his internship.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  I’d seen pictures of Alexander Black on occasion but nothing had prepared me for him. The words ‘formidable and hard’ would be how I would have described him, and fucking gorgeous.

  Even from where I sat across the room, he hit me like a freight train and I’m sure my body showed the impact. I could feel the rush surge through me enflaming my face and igniting my every nerve ending. I hadn’t had sex in so long, I thought my vagina had stopped working but it, too, roared to life.

  I could tell he was tall, very tall, with wavy chocolate brown hair a little on the long side, close cut facial hair that was too long to be scruff but not long enough to be a beard and mustache, a perfectly tailored black pinstriped suit with a vest, a crisp grey shirt and pink tie. He had one arm across his broad chest with the other raised as his finger and thumb stroked his jaw. Danger and power. While he studied me.

  I knew the young man across from me was talking as he sat back in his chair. I saw his mouth moving out of my peripheral vision, but I didn’t hear a word he said.

  The world had been sucked into a vacuum of only Black and me.

  He was stunning. Too beautiful for words. His features were strong and chiseled, defined cheekbones, arrogant brow and eyes, square jaw, full, deliciously full lips. His body was not lean but not bulky, well defined, even hidden inside those obviously very expensive clothes. If I had to bet, I would say the suit was tailor made Brioni. I should know, I had bought enough of them for Malcolm. His shoulders and chest were broad, his waist lean, and I could tell his legs were not thin within his slacks. I immediately envisioned thick braided, muscular thighs, the kind that a beautiful ass rested above with the cheeks dipping in at narrow hips. My mouth went dry and I had to clench my jaw to keep from licking my lips. The thing that truly took my breath away was the intense savage energy that emanated from him even with the distance separating us.

  I sucked in a breath when a corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky smirk. He lowered the hand that had been at his jaw and reached for the phone at his side and broke our gaze.

  I was relieved to be released from the hold he’d had on me. My eyes returned to Davis sitting across the desk as the sound of his voice was turned on in my ears once again.

  “…are over qualified although, from what I’ve seen on your information, you have an impressive history…,” he was saying.

  Before my mind had a chance to clear, his phone rang. The noise made me jump.

  Shit, what the hell is wrong with you, get a grip.

  “Miles Davis,” he answered it. A pause. His eyes dart
to me, his expression shocked. “Yes, Mr. Black, of course.” Another pause, his eyes widen. “Yes sir.” He hangs up. He blinks once. Then again. “Come in tomorrow morning at nine. Tonight you’ll take your first case home with you. Familiarize yourself with the details and be prepared to present how you think we should proceed with it.” He blinks again seeming stunned.

  The familiar adrenaline courses through my system that fuels me each time I begin a new case, preparing me for the kill. It’s always a hunt with me, and I always catch my prey. This time is going to be different as I have to do the legwork, but I find I’m looking forward to it, invigorated by it even. I was back!

  “Absolutely,” I almost purr.

  “Ms. Trudeau.”

  I turn my head to the man standing behind me. From the sound of his voice, he is British, Wales probably, and wearing a bowtie, khakis and a cardigan. His clothes are perfectly pressed.

  “Welcome to Black Inc. I’m Simon, Mr. Black’s assistant. Please follow me, I’ll show you to your desk.”

  “Certainly, thank you.” I rise from my seat in front of Davis and glance back at him. He still has a look of surprise on his face.

  “I’ll bring you the file,” he mutters noncommittally.

  “Thank you, Mr. Davis, I look forward to working with you, I appreciate the opportunity.” I know I have to kiss this guy’s ass even though it hadn’t been his decision to hire me. But if I want to make things pleasant it has to be done. I still can’t help but wonder what Black’s angle is for doing it though, the lawyer in me is sure it’s not only my impressive history. A man didn’t achieve what Black has before the age of forty with playing only one hand in the game.

  I glance at Alexander Black’s office as I follow Simon to a desk in a cubicle that is slightly separate from the others offering it some privacy. The glass has gone smoky making it impossible to see inside his office. In my mind the details beyond the glass spring to life; the modern black polished desk with the wall of windows behind it overlooking Fifth Avenue, the tufted black leather sofas with chrome legs, the matching black polished bar on the side wall with cut crystal decanters on top, a huge conference table with tufted black leather chairs surrounding it, and televisions along the top of the wall facing his desk above the glass. Black’s inner sanctum, where he rules the world.