Page 1 of Fated to the Dragon King (Alpha Dragons’ Fated #4)

Hayley

Tears of pain squirted from my eyes. My left cheek burned from the stinging slap delivered by my older sister. I turned my face away, my hand covering my face, and wished I was dead.

“You’re so useless,” Roxanne spat. “And stupid. Mom should have aborted you while you were still a bunch of cancerous cells.”

The words why do you hate me so much? c ame to my mouth but didn’t pass my lips.

I knew why she despised me. She’s made my life hell since the day my parents brought me home from the hospital.

Insanely jealous of my existence, encouraged in her behavior by our mother through her indifference, Roxanne abused me both physically and mentally.

“I want you to move out,” she grated, her fists clenched at her sides as though willing herself to not punch me. “I’ve tolerated your shit long enough.”

“I can’t,” I pleaded. “I’ve nowhere to go.”

“I don’t care,” she replied in an acid voice. “Live on the street. It’s what you deserve.”

Turning away before she hit me again, I sat on the plush sofa and stared into nothing. The tears of pain morphed into tears of grief and self-pity. Still, I didn’t cry openly. Weeping brought only scathing comments and derisive laughter from Roxanne. It was Friday, and I start a new job on Monday.

A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. If I kept under Roxanne’s radar for two weeks, I could potentially get an apartment with my first paycheck.

Luxurious homes such as the one I currently shared with her were far above my future pay grade.

Still, I might be able to afford a studio apartment or loft.

In this city, tiny studios were plentiful and cheap, provided one didn’t choose to live in the trendy and expensive downtown region. Like Roxanne did.

“Give me two weeks,” I said, swallowing my tears. “I’ll move out when I get paid.”

Roxanne huffed as she stepped around the sofa and into my view. “So you found a job then?”

I nodded, not looking up. “At a real estate company.”

“You’ll be fired within two days. And I’ll still be stuck with you.”

“No.”

A tiny and very rare hint of rebellion and defiance fluttered from the depths of my soul. “I’ll work hard. I’ll get my own place, and you’ll never see me again.”

Her arms crossed over her ample bosom, Roxanne tapped an elegant finger against her elbow.

Four years my senior, she was my opposite in every way.

Her hair was a rich dark brown and cut into the latest fashion trend.

My hair hung long and loose, tumbling in silver-blonde waves.

She’d inherited our mother’s sky-blue eyes while I’d gotten stuck with bottle-green irises.

Roxanne maintained her lush figure with the help of a personal trainer.

I, on the other hand, jogged for exercise.

I have small boobs while Roxanne’s deceased husband once paid for her to have implants implanted.

Roxanne inherited her hubby’s estate and wealth, and begrudged me the bed I slept in and the food I ate.

“We’ll see about that.” Roxanne heaved a huge sigh as though preparing herself to pick up a heavy load. “When you move out, don’t come crawling back, Hayley.”

“I won’t.”

“How will you get to this job of yours?” Roxanne sniffed. “You don’t have a car.”

“I’ll take the bus.”

She sniffed again as though taking the bus was beneath her dignity.

Which I suppose it was. She drove a flashy Mercedes and parked it across two parking spaces so no one might inadvertently bump it by opening a door.

She guarded that vehicle’s perfection as though diamonds were embedded inside the paint job.

“Maybe you should make up with Brad,” she suggested. “Move back in with him.”

My mouth tightened. “You know he cheated on me.”

“So? At least he put up with you and your brainless stupidity.”

I didn’t answer. Like Roxanne, Brad despised me as a spineless idiot. Our relationship was as toxic as they come, and he not just cheated on me, but now was actively stalking me. He liked my body well enough, constantly wanted sex without bothering to offer me any pleasure. He liked using me.

And he terrified me.

“Two weeks,” Roxanne snapped. “Then that’s it. You’re gone.”

I nodded. “I’ll be gone.”

“The only reason I’m granting you that much is because I’m headed to wine country tomorrow. After that, I’ll be attending several charity functions and won’t be home very often.”

She stared down at me with contempt in her beautiful eyes, in her thinned lips. “Why couldn’t you have married into wealth like I did? Then you’d be set for life.”

“I guess I’m not that lucky.”

“Darling, you make your own luck.”

***

My first day of work.

I’d dressed meticulously in a bronze-colored skirt and blazer with a gold blouse and sensible, high-heeled shoes. I’d put my hair into a professional and tidy bun, and completed my attire with a long, gold chain that fell to my waist.

“You can do this,” I said to my reflection early that morning. “You can.”

After my short bus ride to the downtown high rise where my new employer maintained his office, I rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor amid other business professionals. I was hired as the real estate company’s receptionist, and would go through a morning of training.

Nervous, I watched the elevator’s numbers climb, ignoring the need to wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt.

At the floor I needed, I stepped into a carpeted hallway lined with doors leading into offices of various companies.

I paused at office number fifteen-oh-two, and hesitated with my hand on the door’s handle.

Let me keep this job, I prayed to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in. Help me to escape Roxanne, please.

Then I opened the door and walked in.

“Good morning, Hayley. Don’t you look lovely.”

Unused to compliments, I ran my fingers nervously down my jacket. “Uh, good morning, Mrs. McMillan. How are you?”

“My dear, only my bank calls me Mrs. McMillan.”

The matronly office manager, the lady who hired me on the spot after my interview, smiled with warm and utter kindness as she stepped around the desk that would soon become mine.

She, too, piled her graying hair into a professional bun and wore a dark brown pantsuit with flat shoes.

Owning a pair of spirited hazel eyes, she looked me up and down, even as she took my hands in hers.

“I’m Willow, my dear,” she said, still smiling cheerfully. “We’re rather informal around here. Would you like coffee before we get started?”

Warmed by not just her welcome, but by her compliment, I smiled back. “That sounds great.”

She gestured toward a short hall behind the reception desk. “Alaric won’t be in until this afternoon, but the rest of the staff will arrive soon. Come along, we’ll get coffee from the break room. I made it fresh myself.”

Alaric Desjardin was the company’s owner, and I had yet to meet him. During my first visit, I’d been introduced to the full-time salesman, the part time salesman, the accountant, and Willow herself. I was to replace the receptionist, who’d gotten married and moved to New York.

“The phone and computer system are fairly easy to use,” Willow explained as she poured the rich smelling coffee from the pot.

“As we’re a small outfit, the phone doesn’t ring constantly.

You’ll enter listings into the computer, monitor the website and write blog articles.

Alaric or I will make suggestions on what to write about. ”

“That sounds interesting.”

Willow chuckled. “Our last gal hated the blog writing. Claimed it was too much like being in school.”

“I actually enjoy writing,” I said, then took a sip of the hot coffee. “Have plans to be an author someday.”

“You’re a smart gal,” Willow exclaimed, beaming widely. “I’m quite certain you’ll make a wonderful writer.”

Me? Smart? Most of my life I’d been told I’m stupid and don’t have the brains of a garden snail. To be called smart was almost a joke. Surely Willow will change her mind about that by the end of the day.

“Bring your coffee,” Willow said, “and I’ll show you around.”

There wasn’t much to show me. Mr. Desjardin’s big office sat at the end of the hall. Willow’s own office was next to his, divided by a glass wall. Cubicles lined the hall’s perimeter and most of those were empty. I supposed that Mr. Desjardin would one day expand his operation.

As the full time salesman, Richard, and the accountant, a sweet lady only a few years older than me, arrived, Willow was busy teaching me the ropes.

As she’d explained, the phone system was fairly basic.

The computer was easy, and Willow gave me passwords into the real estate’s site, as well as the company website’s back door.

Once Richard and Bertie, the accountant, were ensconced in their cubicles, Willow dropped her voice. “Don’t let Alaric intimidate you, honey. He can be gruff at times, but deep down he’s a real sweetheart. Give him time to know you.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Um, okay.”

I needed this job, and badly. If Mr. Alaric Desjardin turned out to be Satan himself, I’d smile and kiss his ass, then gush over how well his ass tasted. I’ll do handstands if that’s what’s needed to earn my pay and escape Roxanne’s house and hatred.

“Acquaint yourself with the website,” Willow suggested, standing over me as I sat, “and read the current blog articles. Take messages for Alaric, he’ll be in later. If you have questions, dear, I’m just down the hall.”

I smiled up at her. “Thank you for giving me this chance.”

“I hired the right person, Hayley.”

I hope so.

The morning passed without much fanfare. The blogs my predecessor had written were in dire need of editing. I tsked over the poorly written articles, and wondered how the boss had permitted them onto the website. I rewrote and replaced two of them, and began on the third when the front door opened.

I glanced up, half expecting the part time sales guy, a bro named Sammy.

It wasn’t Sammy.

I felt my jaw come unhinged and drop open.

If forced to speak in that moment, I’m sure only a squeak would emerge from my lips.

The dude who ambled in wore a casual, open throated, blue polo shirt with blue jeans and a black sport coat.

His pale gray eyes, as cold as the Arctic winter, surveyed me with a strong disapproval.

Though he said nothing, I felt sure he planned to give me the boot when he did.

Calling him handsome, or good looking, or attractive fell far short of the mark.

I’m not sure how to describe him, except to say he was Adonis fallen to earth.

His shaggy black hair was tipped with gray, although I felt sure he hadn’t reached his forties yet.

Muscles rippled under his jacket and his abs flexed under the polo shirt.

His broad shoulders reminded me of a young bull’s.

If he picked me up with one hand, he could easily snap my spine with his fingers alone.

“Hullo,” he said with a clipped accent I couldn’t place. “You’re the new girl.”

I untangled my tongue enough to reply, “Uh, yeah. My first day.”

He grunted. “Any messages for me?”

“I, er –” I began, lowering my face to fumble for the two phone messages I’d taken during his absence. “Well, uh, here.”

Mr. Desjardin, my new boss, eyed me askance as if he thought of me as a new species of cockroach while accepting the messages. “Settling in all right?”

I tried to smile, and failed utterly. “Um, yes, sir. Willow, Mrs. McMillan, showed me everything.”

His icy eyes looked me up and down, his arrogance and contempt clear on his exceptionally handsome face. “Let’s see if you’ll last the week.”