Page 31 of Brutal Reign

Simon and I have always had our differences. He treated me like an annoying younger sibling he never had time for. Even when I started at Cambridge, he couldn’t understand why I’d choose to study history and literature instead of something more practical, like economics, which might one day allow me to work for my father’s legitimate businesses.

Still, after nearly a year alone, living like a ghost with no one knowing the real me, I’m surprisingly relieved to see him again, even if it’s a lot to take in.

Simon returns and passes me a glass of water but doesn’t sit. Despite everything, he’s as put together as always: tailored suit, expensive Italian shoes, not a hair out of place, while I sit here in threadbare clothes with shadows under my eyes.

“I know this is a shock,” he says gently. More gently than I’ve ever heard him speak. “You covered your tracks well. It took months to find you, but I refused to give up.”

“I have a million questions,” I breathe, still trying to process.

“I’m sure you do. Let me start at the beginning.” He leans against the wall, folding his arms across his suited chest.

“What happened during the attack?”

“We weren’t prepared for that kind of assault. It came out of nowhere. They breached every entry point within minutes. We fought back as best we could, but there were too many.” He sighs, eyes shadowed with memory. “I was caught on the main floor, trying to hold them off, hoping I could keep them from your father’s office. I tried, but it was too late… I saw them kill him, Hope. They were merciless. The way they?—”

I hold up my hand, unable to bear hearing more. “Please. I can’t.”

His voice grows rougher. “I held your father while he died. He made me promise I’d find and protect you, if it was the last thing I did.”

As much as it hurts to hear all of this, there’s a little comfort in knowing my father’s final thoughts were for me. Maybe, in the end, I did matter to him.

The realization cracks something inside me, and a rough sob breaks free.

When I look up, Simon is watching me with an expression I can't quite read. There's something unsettling about the way he's studying me.

“I escaped through the tunnels, as I imagine you did; they hadn’t been breached yet. Made it out on foot and hid in the forest. Soon after, the Syndicate had burned the villa to the ground. No one else survived.”

We sit in the thick silence, the weight of it settling between us.

“I’m sorry for what you saw, for what you went through. I can’t imagine.” I wipe a tear away. “My father planned my escape. He had a car ready, everything packed. I was so angry that he refused to come with me, but he insisted on staying and fighting alongside his men.”

“Your father loved you. I’m here because I promised him I’d take care of you.”

Take care of me?

My thoughts jump to the life growing inside me. If Simon’s here to help me, maybe he could arrange security for us and access to some of my father’s holdings. If that happens, there’s a chance I could keep this baby.

I smile up at him, hopeful. “I don’t need much. A safe place to live, protection, and access to some of my father’s money. I know he had property in Hong Kong. Real estate holdings alone are worth hundreds of mill?—”

His mouth hardens. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

“Okay,” I say carefully. “What did you have in mind?”

He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It’s an intimate gesture that makes my shoulders tense. I edge back, putting a little distance between us.

Even though he’s only ten years older than me and what most women would consider very handsome, I’ve never been interested in him that way. And I didn’t get the sense he saw me as anything more than an annoying sibling.

“I’ve spent the last year in Hong Kong, working to rebuild. There are still many loyal to the Black Company and the King legacy.”

I nod, uncertain where this is headed.

“The future depends on us. On King’s daughter and his right hand uniting. Together we could get revenge on the Syndicate, become even more powerful than your father.”

Unease lodges in my gut. “United how?”

“By marriage. It’s what your father wanted for us.”

A knot twists in my gut. Is this true? “My father never mentioned that to me.”