Rise of a Queen: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Kingdom Duet Book 2)

by Rina Kent

  I could blame the way she mixed up facts on lack of sleep or the attack back in Leeds. After all, she was under a lot of stress during that couple of days. What’s concerning me, however, is how she hysterically insisted that everything did happen.

  That’s how Alicia’s decimation started. She said someone was following her, then that ‘ghost’ — as she called him — sent her voice messages and whispered things to her. However, whenever I asked her to show me, she couldn’t find them.

  The doctor said it was hallucinations due to stress. She became neurotic, and gradually, her mental health deteriorated. She hid her pills and it only made her state worse.

  Unlike Aurora, Alicia didn’t insist she wasn’t crazy. She didn’t scream at me or hit me or anything like that. She just…pulled back. With time, she stopped talking altogether and dived into her internal world, where she never really allowed anyone in — except for maybe Aiden sometimes.

  My son thinks I could’ve provided for her emotionally, but he doesn’t know that she never allowed me to get close. Just because she let him in didn’t mean she let me. He thinks she cried because of my neglect, but she cried whenever I tried to talk to her. She cried when I asked her to take her pills. She cried when she returned from Leeds and wrote in her scattered journals that she missed Clarissa already. That she wanted to kidnap her baby sister and take her and Aiden to a place no one could find them.

  She said the three of them would be happy without the ‘ghost’.

  Then she burnt those journals for no apparent reason, as if she didn’t want anyone to read them.

  She became paranoid to the point that she sometimes refused to eat for whole days because the ‘ghost’ could’ve put something in her food.

  Not once in our married life did Alicia come to me, or even attempt to talk to me. Forget the physical aspect. Due to her mental state and the meds, she became asexual, and withdrew from me. She told me to have mistresses, but I never did, because that meant disrespecting the mother of my son.

  The only women I touched were long after her death.

  The sole presence Alicia leant on was Aiden. He was her anchor, in a way, and when he disappeared because of Abigail, her state of mind spiralled out of control and then…she died.

  That simple.

  Could I have done better? Probably. But there was a wall between me and Alicia; sometimes I thought she wasn’t the same woman I first saw in the cemetery, and others, she appeared just like her, broken and lost.

  I have a lot of regrets when it comes to Alicia, and there’s no way in fuck I’ll repeat them with Aurora. It doesn’t matter that she’s showing the signs.

  This time, I won’t leave, even if she pushes me.

  “So?” Levi leans forwards as if he’s about to jump across the table.

  “Out with it.” Aiden sounds more impatient than excited. “And before you say anything, remember, you spent the night at my house.”

  “Hey!” Levi snaps his fingers at him. “Not fair. She could’ve spent the night at mine.”

  My son glares down his nose at him. “Who said anything about fair? I’m going to crush you, Lev.”

  “Cut down on your delusional pills, little Cousin.”

  After eating from both plates, Aurora wipes her lips with her napkin. “I’ll go with nil.”

  “You can’t go with nil,” Levi protests.

  “Yeah, pick one.” Aiden motions at the one on the right — his. “That one.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t choose.” She smiles in a soft, bright way. “Both are one of the best steaks I’ve had.”

  Levi puffs out his chest, but soon after, his along with everyone else’s attention turns to me. Five pair of eyes watch me as I savour the meat. They’re well-cooked, to the level of what I prefer, so that’s one point for both.

  “Any day now, Jonathan.” Aiden taps his fingers on the table’s surface, letting his impatience show.

  He takes after me in that department — I was never one for patience. Aiden’s problem is that he can be volatile. Not as much as Levi, but it’s there. He’ll learn to school his reaction better as he grows up.

  “Yeah, Uncle. Suspense doesn’t suit you.” Levi’s sense of sarcasm is too similar to James’s. Sometimes, it feels as if my brother is sitting beside me, not his son.

  “Neither,” I say.

  Elsa’s and Astrid’s expressions fall. They were waiting for the result as much as their husbands.

  Aurora kicks me under the table. Hard. The pointy part of her heel digs into my calf and remains there, but a smile plasters on her face for everyone to see.

  Fuck me. This woman has a fire in her, and she’s not afraid of showing it whenever she deems necessary.

  I suppress a groan as I place my fork on the table. “They’re both good. I won’t pick one.”

  Aurora’s heel eases off me, but not before she rubs her leg against mine as if she’s soothing the pain. Her touch is gentle, caring — another side of her I’ve gotten infuriatingly used to.

  Before I can grab her leg and keep it there, or better yet, have her sit on my lap, she retreats from me and focuses on the others.

  Levi grins at Astrid, who strokes his shoulder as if she’s proud of him. Elsa takes Aiden’s hand in hers and a smug look fills his gaze. “Though, for the record, Jonathan liked my pasta the last time. That makes me the winner.”

  “Nonsense.” Levi points a finger at me. “You’re spending the night at my place next time, Uncle. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “You, too, Aurora. Please come over,” Astrid tells her.

  “We would love to,” Aurora says.

  No, I wouldn’t love to. The only reason I spent the night at Aiden’s was because she was there.

  Ironically enough, that’ll be how she’ll make me spend the night at Levi’s. Not sure if she’s doing it on purpose, but the smallest ways she’s affecting my life are starting to have a much larger impact.

  It’s like she came into this family with a purpose and won’t stop until she achieves it.

  After dinner, Aiden and Levi insist on making me watch their chess game. They won’t quit until one of them is considered the winner this night. Winning is in their blood, and I’m proud of the way they grew up — mishaps and all.

  I sit across from them on a chair in the lounge area. Each of them occupies a sofa, with the glass chess board between them. I’m vaguely focused on their moves. While neither of them wins against me, their games are sporadic. Usually, the less distracted one beats the other.

  A glass of cognac is cradled between my fingers, but I haven’t been drinking. My focus is on the woman who’s standing over the table in the other part of the lounge area. Her dark green dress clings to her slim figure and that arse I spanked right before dinner. It’s part of the reason why she’s currently standing, not sitting.

  It was due to her attitude after an email exchange.

  From: Jonathan King

  To: Aurora Harper

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Refer to subject.

  From: Aurora Harper

  To: Jonathan King

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  No.

  From: Jonathan King

  To: Aurora Harper

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Don’t fucking push me, Aurora. That red lipstick is meant for me and me alone. No one else is allowed to see it, not even my son and nephew.

  From: Aurora Harper

  To: Jonathan King

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Oops.

  Attached is a picture of herself. She wasn’t only wearing the red lipstick, but she was also biting her lower lip while wearing a revealing dress that showed so much of her cleavage, she nearly flashed me her nipples.

  One, I became as hard as a rock.

  Two, I planned the murder of every last b
astard who could see her like that.

  Could, because there was no way in fuck she’d go out like that in front of anyone.

  From: Jonathan King

  To: Aurora Harper

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Change your clothes and remove the lipstick. Now.

  From: Aurora Harper

  To: Jonathan King

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Or what?

  From: Jonathan King

  To: Aurora Harper

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  Or that arse will turn red. If you’re in the mood to sit at all tonight, change.

  From: Aurora Harper

  To: Jonathan King

  Subject: Do Not Wear the Red Lipstick for Dinner Tonight.

  I guess you have to come home and make me.

  I went home and did just that. Then I grabbed her by the throat and fucked her against the wall, smearing the lipstick all over her face until she screamed my name.

  I haven’t missed the way she calls my house a home now, either. For someone who never actually belonged anywhere, it’s a huge deal that she’s picking my place as her home.

  Maybe she meant what she told me once — the part about not running away anymore. But for some reason, I can’t seem to fully trust that promise.

  She’s currently talking to Elsa and Astrid. While their conversation is far enough away to not disrupt the boys’ game, I can almost hear Aurora talk about her next design.

  She’s been focused on that lately, working from home until late and even inviting Black Belt over. She said her peculiar behaviour is one of her inspirations. Sometimes, I catch her observing my wrist or measuring my watches as if planning for something.

  From the outside looking in, it appears as if she’s moving on from the attack, Maxim’s reappearance, and everything that transpired afterwards.

  But it’s too soon. The possibility that she’s bottling something — or everything — inside is what’s keeping me on the edge. That’s never a good sign and will eventually backfire.

  “Your obsession is showing, Jonathan.” Aiden focuses on me for a second, smirks, then slides his attention back to the board.

  “Can you blame him?” Levi waggles his brows. “What’s up with her knee, though?”

  “Why the fuck have you been looking at her knee?” I rip my gaze away from her to glare at my nephew.

  “It’s innocent, Uncle.”

  “Innocent or not, do not look at her. That applies to you, too, Aiden.”

  My son lifts his shoulder. “I don’t take orders, Jonathan.”

  “Well, you will now. Is that understood?”

  “Does that mean you’ll beat him up? Can I watch? Or maybe participate?” Levi’s gaze sparks.

  Aiden flips him off discreetly, but I see it.

  “I must admit. I like this side of you, Uncle. It’s more human. You weren’t this way with Alicia.”

  “No, he wasn’t.” There’s no maliciousness in Aiden’s voice, as if he merely intends to relay facts. “Is it true that she’s becoming like Alicia? Aurora, I mean.”

  I take a sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in before I speak, “How do you know about that?”

  “She told me so herself.”

  “Since when did you two start to talk?”

  “Since I can use her to bring you down.”

  My lips twitch. “Maybe in the next life, son.”

  “Whatever.” Aiden twirls a knight chess piece between his fingers. “So is she?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Well, shit.” Levi’s voice lowers. “Is it genetic?”

  “No clue yet, but probably.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t taken her to the doctor.” Aiden kills one of Levi’s pawns with his knight.

  “Yeah, Uncle. Doctors are your modus operandi, aren’t they? First Alicia, then Dad, then me.”

  “If there’s need for outside help that’s exactly what will happen.” I take another sip of my cognac.

  “Why didn’t you do it with her, then?” Aiden motions his head in Aurora’s direction.

  “She would throw a tantrum.”

  Levi chuckles. “Whoa. Has the great Jonathan King finally met his match?”

  “Looks like it.” Aiden gives me an undecipherable glance.

  “Don’t you have a game to focus on? Your right is exposed, Aiden. Your queen is in jeopardy, Levi.”

  Both their demeanours sharpen as their attention shifts back to the chessboard. Now that they realise the other party is aware of their weakness, they need to give their all to win the game.

  The women soon join us. Elsa slides beside Aiden, and her blue eyes sparkle. She’s just like Ethan; they seem demure, but deep down yearn for challenges and wars. Her father is way worse, though.

  Astrid sits close to Levi and points at a chess piece. Even though he’s concentrating, he answers each of her questions.

  There’s a moment of hesitation before Aurora stands beside my chair. She’s far enough away that her apple scent is barely noticeable. That scent, which I’ve never paid attention to before, has become a fucking addiction. Smelling it means she’s there, close, and all mine for the taking. Having it all over my bed means she’s beside me, holding on to me with her dainty hands as if she needs me.

  I grab her by the waist and pull her close. She gasps as she falls at the edge of my chair. She attempts to wiggle away, because in her politically correct mind, she doesn’t like the kids to see us close. She feels like she’s taking a role that’s not hers.

  If they have an issue with her, that’s their problem, not mine. Aurora is here to stay. I don’t fucking care what anyone says or thinks.

  My fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, and she must realise that there’s no escaping me, because she releases a long sigh and remains still.

  Soon, she’ll stop fighting or trying to run away from me.

  Soon, she’ll be safe from both the world and herself.

  But to make that happen, I might have to take a measure that she won’t like.

  17

  Aurora

  Something is wrong.

  This feeling has been a constant over the last couple of days. It could be because Jonathan didn’t spank me hard enough and has disappeared from my side when I wake up in the morning. He’s usually there the entire night, sometimes holding me through the aftermath of my nightmares, and other times staring at me as if he’s making sure of something. What, I don’t know.

  Needless to say, after that night at Aiden’s house, I’ve been sleeping in Jonathan’s bed. My room was cleaned up and appears as good as new. However, each time I end up there, even to grab my things, Jonathan grabs me by my hand and leads me back to his room.

  Not that I’ve wanted to spend any nights alone after those voices I dreamt about.

  He still spanks me as ‘punishment’, but we both know it’s so much more than that.

  It’s our connection.

  It’s something that fills his eyes with possessiveness and mine with raw lust.

  Sometimes, I wake up with his face buried between my legs. Other times, he fucks me into the mattress with his hand around my throat. He then sleeps with his cock deep inside me just so he can pick up where he left off in the middle of the night.

  He exhausts me, but at the same time, he completes me in the strangest way possible.

  There’s no getting enough of Jonathan. The harder he takes it out on me, the more I meet him head-on. If he’s a hurricane, I’m the wind that gets off on the damage he causes.

  But it’s not always damage, and that’s what throws me for a loop. After he marks my arse with his handprint and wrenches one orgasm after the other out of me, Jonathan doesn’t stand up and leave like when I first came into his life.

  He doesn’t look at me as if I’m an annoyance or something he’s bent on breaking. There’s ac
ceptance in his steel eyes now, the sort that both frightens and intrigues me. Being on the receiving end of Jonathan’s attention is like living in a high-alert mode twenty-four-seven.

  Then he does things that make me pause.

  Every day, he either makes us shower together, or he runs me a bath and takes special care with washing my hair. It’s become so much of a habit that I get infuriated when I have to do it myself.

  He also gets frustratingly protective whenever I hurt myself in any way.

  Over time, he’s eventually stopped being a blank board in front of his children. Jonathan will always be Jonathan; however, he sometimes follows my lead and doesn’t purposefully act like a bastard.

  I might be addicted to his harshness, but his tenderness strikes a completely different chord inside me. A part of me is slowly leaving my body and creeping to his side, and although I’m aware of it, there’s no way I can stop it.

  He’s a steep cliff, and I keep rolling down, enjoying every bump and hit.

  However, today, there’s something wrong.

  When he gave me an undecipherable look this morning, I brushed it off. Jonathan does a lot of watching and observing, and not all of his expressions can be explained.

  After all, he didn’t give me that look again, the ‘You’re crazy’ one. We’re past that phase, right? There’s no way he’ll bring that back up.

  And yet, that doesn’t alleviate the tension sinking to the bottom of my stomach. I caught myself touching my watch more than often today, and I barely pushed through the meetings.

  I leave work early, opting to go home. Not that Jonathan will be there at this time.

  My feet come to a halt in front of my car. Did I just call Jonathan’s house home? Since when did I start considering it as such?

  I shake my head, not wanting to think about it. Just when I’m about to open the door, a dark shadow passes in my peripheral vision.

  My hand freezes as I search my surroundings.