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

by Rina Kent

  Most of all, I enjoy how she tells me about her days and her work. How she retells one of her and Layla’s adventures with a huge smile on her face. How she keeps urging me to get in touch with Aiden and Levi because they’re my family.

  Aurora barged into my life, wreaked havoc in my order, and disrupted my chessboard. At first, the moves she made were insignificant, but they kept escalating with time. By the time I noticed the changes, it was already too late to kick her out.

  Not that I would.

  If anything, I’m keeping her.

  All of her.

  She smells of her apple lotion that I’ve become lowkey addicted to. It’s not even about the scent of apples — it’s about her natural body warmth mingled with it. It’s a trademark that no other human being would be able to replicate.

  I can’t get enough of it no matter how long I fill my nostrils with it.

  She moans softly when I place her on the bed. I cover her with a sheet over her bathrobe and spend a few minutes watching her.

  It doesn’t matter how often I see her soft face with the tiny features, full lips and long lashes. It doesn’t matter whether she’s asleep or awake.

  I can’t get enough of watching her, of wanting to get so close that she won’t be able to leave.

  Am I being overbearing? Probably.

  But I honestly can’t imagine my life without her in it. If anything, I’ve forgotten how I used to live before she came along.

  I brush my lips against her forehead before I begrudgingly leave her side and step into my closet.

  After putting on a tuxedo, I stand in front of the mirror to do my bowtie. While I hate to leave Aurora’s side, I have a banquet to attend.

  She’s out for the night after the thorough fucking and bath massage.

  Besides, if I even attempt to skip tonight, Harris will show up here and bitch for an hour about meetings like the workaholic he is.

  It’s strange that I used to be exactly like him — if not more demanding — but now, the idea of leaving takes all my self-restraint.

  Tiny hands wrap around my chest from behind as her warmth glues to my back.

  Aurora’s head peeks from the side and she meets my gaze in the mirror. “Going somewhere?”

  “Work.”

  “What happened to ‘we’ll stay in bed all day?’” She tries to hide her disappointment from her overly expressive eyes and fails. She can be so adorable sometimes.

  “Didn’t we, wild one?”

  “Well, not really.”

  “I think your arse and pussy would testify otherwise.”

  She hides her face against my jacket to camouflage the flaming of her cheeks. I get the urge to grab her and kiss the fuck out of her.

  So I do just that.

  Spinning around, I wrap my hand around her throat. Her dark blue eyes meet mine, wide, expectant, and I meet those expectations when I slam my lips to hers.

  I lost count of how much I’ve kissed her but each time she melts against me, her tiny fingers wrapping around my bicep or nape, it feels like a first.

  And like every first, I feast on her luscious lips, grabbing her by the arse and pulling her against my trousers.

  I’m rock hard again. Fuck.

  Pulling away, I breathe against her mouth without releasing neither her arse nor throat. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Do you not want me with you?”

  “What the fuck is that nonsense?”

  “Well…” she stares at her feet. “You don’t take me with you to events or even invite me.”

  I place two fingers underneath her chin, forcing her to stare up at me. “Didn’t you say you don’t want to take part in anything that has to do with ‘my world?’”

  “That was before. I thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought you were embarrassed to have me on your arm.”

  “Why would I be embarrassed?”

  “You’re not the type to be embarrassed, but, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. You’re not my dirty little secret, Aurora. I’ll shout at the top of the world that you’re mine if that’s what it will take.”

  Her delicate throat works up and down with a swallow. “But people will talk about my resemblance to Alicia.”

  “Fuck people, and Alicia has been dead for eleven years. I don’t think she minds.”

  “So you’re not keeping it a secret?”

  “Why the fuck would I announce in front of the world that you’re my fiancée if I was keeping it a secret? Stop having those thoughts, okay?”

  “Okay.” A smile grazes her lips as she tiptoes and kisses me on my cheeks. “Have fun.”

  I grab her by the arm before she can leave. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to sleep.”

  “Forget about that. You’re coming with me.”

  “I am?”

  “If you want to. I would be happy if you came with me and made the night less boring.” I rephrase so it doesn’t come off as if I’m ordering her around.

  Aurora is a strong, independent woman, and needs her choices. I think part of the reason why she acted up the other time was because I completely took that will away.

  It’s hard to give a choice when I’m used to my orders being met, but for her, I will learn. Eventually.

  “I would love to.” She wraps her arms around my neck and seals her lips to mine.

  As I kiss her, I know, I just know that there’s only one choice I would never give her.

  The choice to leave me.

  28

  Aurora

  Something feels wrong the moment I arrive at my office and receive a phone call from an unknown number.

  Since the media attention started, Jonathan changed my phone number so that only he, his family, and Layla have it.

  He even deleted Ethan’s number when I added it. No kidding.

  Jonathan has been more severe about his possessiveness since he took me against the sofa a week ago. He’s been more tender, too, whether we’re alone or with people. I still haven’t asked him what he meant about the whole fiancée business, but I’d rather not ruin it.

  At least, not for now.

  I need his closeness more than anything as I deal with this whole fucked up situation. I need to sleep in his arms and feel like I’m in a castle and no one will ever be able to hurt me.

  It’s weird how I handled it all alone eleven years ago, but I don’t want to think about that option now. Having Jonathan, Layla, and even Aiden and Levi and their wives, brings me a long-lost sense of peace that I’m ready to fight for with all my might.

  At first, I don’t answer the phone, thinking it’s a reporter. They don’t stop. At all. They keep bugging me, Layla, and even our employees for stories about me.

  Jonathan wasn’t kidding when he said he’d crush them, though. Aside from the security that surrounds H&H on a daily basis, Harris is keeping King Enterprises’ solicitors busy by having them file countless lawsuits and restraining orders.

  My screen lights up with a text.

  Unknown Number: Hello, Ms Harper. This is Stephan Wayne, Mr Griffin’s solicitor. I have one final message to relay from my client. There’s a threat to your life and Mr Griffin can protect you from it. Your father is ready to take back his accusations if you visit him.

  I sit down on the sofa, staring at the text. He’s willing to leave me in peace?

  No. I internally shake my head. This is one of Dad’s games. He loved those — games, that is. There’s a reason why I never visited him. Aside from the pain and trauma I feel whenever I think about him.

  Dad is a master of manipulation, and although I could see through it, I’m not completely immune to it. If I do visit him, I have no clue what type of person I’ll be when I walk out of there.

  The day the court sentenced him for life, our eyes met, and I couldn’t stop crying. All the pain and disappointment I experienced back then translated into tears that I couldn’
t hold back.

  As the officers were taking him away, Dad stopped in front of me and whispered the words I’ve never been able to forget, “Next time we see each other, either I kill you or you kill me.”

  My phone lights up with another text from Stephan and I open it with unsteady fingers.

  Unknown Number: You should be receiving a gift from your father.

  A knock sounds on the door and I stare up as my assistant, Jessica, walks inside carrying something in her hand. “This came for you, Ms Harper.”

  My eyes widen as I make out the wooden box. It’s so similar to the ones I received Alicia’s messages in.

  Oh, God.

  No.

  All this time, I’ve been coming to terms that the entire debacle with the messages was a hallucination. I’ve become paranoid and had to check things twice and even take pictures so that type of incident never happens again.

  If there’s another box, then…it’s real. It wasn’t my imagination, after all.

  Was this my father’s game all along?

  “You saw me with the box, Jessica, okay?” I take it from her fingers, and she nods with a quizzical expression before leaving.

  My fingers shake as I unclasp the box, and sure enough, there’s a flash drive. However, what’s different this time is the note neatly folded underneath it.

  I open it and read the writing I would recognise even a hundred years from now. The neat writing and his way of curving his S’s and C’s are still the same from when he helped me with my homework.

  Dear Claire,

  You must’ve received similar packages to these in the past with Alicia’s voice on them. I have, too. Probably at the same time as you. That’s why I’m breaking my silence.

  I dislike being shoved in a corner, just like I’m sure you do. Someone is after us, my little muse. If you want evidence, listen to my own recording of that day.

  Then we’ll talk.

  If I had any doubts, they vanish after reading Dad’s letter. He received Alicia’s messages, too? But why would he? They were directed at me.

  It takes me a minute I don’t have to spare to plug the flash drive into my laptop. Soon after I hit Play, there’s a rustle of sounds, like a car revving to life or something. Then there’s the sound of a crash, a loud one that deafens my ears.

  “Fuck.”

  Dad. That’s Dad’s voice. The sound of a car door opening, then slamming shut echoes in the air. I assume it’s his truck.

  The rustle of running and the harsh gliding against a surface is the only thing that can be heard. It’s like he’s sliding down dirt or a harsh surface.

  More rustling comes through before Dad’s booming voice fills the air, “Alicia! Give me your hand!”

  Alicia? My sister?

  “Alicia!”

  “N-no…” Her voice is brittle and she sounds far away and in pain. “You’re the reason behind this.”

  “I’m fucking not. I would never hurt you or Clarissa.”

  A small chuckle comes from her before she coughs, and her distant breathing catches as if she’s gurgling blood. “Why? Because we’re Mum’s daughters? Your original muse? I know, she left it for me in her will. She told me to cut all ties with Clarissa because of you. My own mother wanted her daughters apart because of no one other than you! She said that something unlocked inside of you after you met her and that she created a monster. You told her that you loved the challenge of killing people who looked like her because you couldn’t hurt her. You can’t hurt me and Claire either, because we look like her, but we inspire you to kill, don’t we?”

  “And yet, you kept coming back.” Dad’s voice is stone cold. “You came to Leeds all the time when you could’ve stayed away.”

  “I didn’t want you to use Clarissa as a muse instead of me.”

  “Give me your fucking hand, Alicia. You’ll die in there.”

  “Maybe it’s better if I do — just like Mum did. I thought she killed herself because of Dad, but it was because of you, Maxim,” she snarls. “She willingly left this world to not carry on your sins with her.”

  “So you’ll leave your role for Clarissa?” His voice turns calm in an almost manic way.

  A sob tears from her throat. “Leave her alone. She’s your daughter. At least she’s your daughter.”

  “Which will make her a better muse than you and your mum ever were. After all, she shares my and Bridget’s DNA.”

  “M-Maxim…leave her…”

  “Then give me your fucking hand, Alicia. Take responsibility for both Bridget and her.”

  “I can’t.” She sounds defeated, numb almost. “My own husband thinks I’m crazy, and even my son believes it sometimes. And now, he left me. Aiden and Clarissa are the only bright things in my life, but I’m not theirs.”

  “You’re not crazy — you were made to believe that. I think I know who’s behind this.”

  “I-is it Jonathan?”

  “You don’t want it to be him?”

  “Tell me. P-please.”

  “Give me your fucking hand first.”

  “Y-you’ll leave Claire alone?”

  “I will.”

  “And Aiden?”

  “I couldn’t give two fucks about him. He looks nothing like you and Bridget.”

  “F-fine.” There’s the sound of a pained moan as a rustle of clothes comes from Dad.

  “Oh…” Alicia breathes heavily. “I c-can’t move. T-there’s so much blood…”

  “Fuck! Fuck!”

  “M-Maxim…I…I d-don’t feel so good…”

  “Don’t you dare go!” he shouts at her, voice more enraged than worried.

  “C-Claire… D-don’t do this to her… D-don’t make her me and Mum… P-please…please…”

  “Shut the fuck up, Alicia.” More friction of clothes come from Dad’s side.

  “T-tell Aiden and C-Claire that I love them so much and I-I’m sorry I couldn’t take them far away and p-protect them.” She’s full on crying now, her voice turning weaker with every second. “Tell J-Jonathan I forgive him if he did it. Tell him that he should pick up his life and move on.”

  “I said shut the fuck up.” Dad groans as he seems to be trying to lift either the car or her.

  “This must be how those women felt…” Her voice is far away, barely audible, but sounds serene. “The helplessness. The…end. I’m paying for staying silent and playing a part in their deaths. Isn’t it ironic that you, of all people, get to see me go? I-I’m cold, Maxim. S-so cold…”

  Dad curses a few times more, but Alicia’s voice disappears, and soon enough, the recording ends.

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I stare at the screen through blurry eyes.

  The sound of Alicia’s voice plays in my head like a haunting song on repeat. Her words, her helplessness, her final moments.

  That’s where Dad had been that morning. He was chasing Alicia before she crashed, then he returned to bury his seventh victim.

  He was there with her as she spit out her last breaths.

  I grab my bag, and I’m on autopilot as I leave the office.

  This recording confirms a few things.

  One, I’m not crazy. Alicia did say that Jonathan was poisoning her.

  Two, this is a lot bigger than I thought.

  And there’s only one way to figure it all out.

  29

  Aurora

  This is the last place I ever expected to walk into with my own feet.

  But now that I think about it, the reunion was meant to happen sooner or later.

  There’s too much black water between us, and I was never going to move on without having this confrontation.

  The security Jonathan has following me around is waiting outside. I have no doubt that they called him, so I don’t have much time before he barges in here and drags me back home.

  The room I’m in is sterile with bland grey walls. A few armed guards stand at the corners and cameras blink from every angle possible. Prior to c
oming inside, I was searched thoroughly and even got sniffed at by dogs. This is what it feels like to be the offspring of a dangerous criminal and to carry his sins on my shoulders.

  A large glass with a few holes separates me from him as I sit facing the man I once called Daddy. The man who held me and raised me on his own. The man who taught me everything and nursed my colds. The man who took me to festivals and on hunts and hikes.

  The man who was my superhero but other people’s monster.

  Seeing him in that interview doesn’t lessen the impact of meeting him face-to-face. Or, more accurately, through the glass.

  He’s wearing elegant trousers and a matching striped shirt. His blond beard is trimmed short but not gone. His eyes have some lines underneath them, but he doesn’t appear much older than the last time I saw him — in court, eleven years ago.

  He’s gained some muscles, and considering he’s tall, he’s always appeared as a bodybuilder champion of some sort.

  Maxim Griffin is still the same man from my memories. Once a father, now a devil’s spawn. Or maybe he was a devil’s spawn before he was even a father?

  A small smile paints his lips, making him appear normal, approachable even. The guy next door, who’ll eventually kidnap you, strap duct tape on your face, and watch you slowly die as he cuts you.

  I push those images away because if I get lost in the memories of those vacant eyes, I won’t be able to keep my cool and address the reason I’m here.

  “Clarissa. Long time no see.” His voice is still the same — suave, posh, welcoming. He rarely spoke with the heavy Yorkshire accent. His mum, my grandmother, was a Londoner, and he somehow kept that accent. However, he switches to a northern accent whenever he feels it can get him closer to people. His ability to blend in with others and attract them with the sheer power of his charisma is the scariest thing about the Duct Tape Killer.