Page 15 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)

T he walkout lower level of the lodge was a bar and grille.

The double doors sprawled onto the patio, but this time of day, during the week, there was no one sitting outside.

I hobbled into the pub, needing a moment to catch my breath.

I made it the few feet from the clubhouse to the lodge, and that was as far as I dared traverse on my bummed ankle.

I swept a look around the dimly lit interior as my eyes adjusted to the change from daylight to dusk. I didn’t expect to see a pair of black eyes, but I was equally surprised by the brown ones lighting up at my presence.

“Annaliese! About time.” David shot from the barstool, where he’d been typing on his laptop, and hurried over to give me a hug.

I balked, unable to shift out of his reach. “What are you doing here?”

David sighed. “I know you were distracted on the phone the other day, but did you honestly not hear me say that I was coming out a week early?”

I hadn’t. “Why would you do that?”

The questions sounded harsh to my own ears. A girl should be thrilled her guy came to see her!

The problem was, I was never really David’s girl.

I untangled myself from him and did my best to hide the limp on my way to the barstool.

“It worked better with my schedule to come now, and then leave a week earlier,” he explained.

And there was the reason my heart didn’t flutter at his presence. He was modern, pragmatic—boring. This wasn’t a grand gesture from the silver screen. This was self-serving and purely business.

I really don’t belong with him. I wanted romance, something thrilling and filled with devotion.

The only reason I allowed the engagement to continue was to use the poor sonofabitch to keep my parents from setting me up with some offspring of their friend.

After another attempt on my mother’s part to set me up with the Prestons’ divorced son, I told them I was dating someone, and if I had to play the engagement card, I would.

But my hope had been that things would move fast enough in the direction I wanted, so there would be no need to reveal that shameful detail.

“So this place is quaint,” David mused, brandishing his hand at the walls.

“I think it’s charming.” I flagged down the bartender. Christopher brought me a club soda and lemon without asking—good man. “Want to go sit outside? The breeze is cooler in the shade.”

And I can think more clearly out there.

David agreed and packed up his laptop. I moved forward, going for the door. It opened before I reached it.

My eyes snapped to the black pair staring hard at me.

Leo stepped to the side, holding open the door. “Miss Hertz.”

“Mr. Baldwin, thank you,” I breathed.

“How charming. Midwest manners, holding the door.” David chuckled. “That’s unnecessarily old-fashioned of you, Mr. Baldwin.”

Leo’s jaw ticked as his gaze shifted between David and me. The look he gave me demanded to know if this was really happening.

Yep. I was with a man who thought holding the door for a woman somehow was an affront to her existence, instead of a courteous gesture. It wasn’t like I couldn’t hold the fucking door myself. But it was nice to have someone do it.

Hell, when I was being nice, I held the door for others too.

But David was so busy trying to be the perfect non-alpha male that he didn’t realize he stood in the presence of one. “And how do you know my fiancée?”

“She’s your fiancée?” Leo’s voice was a low growl as his gaze flicked to David, then back to me, the word laced with venom.

My heart stuttered. I couldn’t read his expression, but the tension radiating from his body was unmistakable.

“Yes, David’s here early.” I forced a smile, but my stomach plummeted. Everything I’d built with Leo, all those careful moments and stolen glances—it was unraveling before my eyes.

“How fortunate.” Leo’s fingers tightened around the door handle until his knuckles whitened. “I trust you'll be too busy for our…business meetings now.”

David looked between us, oblivious to the undercurrent. “Business meetings? Anna didn’t mention she was working with the locals.”

“Nothing of consequence, it seems.” Leo’s eyes burned into mine, and I saw it. That one word.

Liar.

I wanted to scream at him that this wasn’t real. This was all part of my plan. Have someone to shield against my parents setting me up, so I was free to pursue the object of my obsession!

David wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Have a lovely afternoon, Annaliese.” The mobster dropped his gaze to my ankle. “Hope your foot feels better.”

“Something’s wrong with your foot?” David asked.

Leo walked away, shaking his head.

“Twisted my ankle,” I muttered, watching Leo’s retreating back with a hollow feeling in my chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Ah, well, if it’s nothing, let’s go,” David urged.

***

That night, I found myself sitting at my parents’ favorite restaurant in town, the Crystal Arrow, with its polished wood and chandeliers meant to evoke old money and tradition. My ankle throbbed beneath the table as my mother leaned forward, hanging on David’s every word.

“And then I told the board we needed to restructure the entire marketing strategy,” David explained, gesturing with his wine glass. “It was a risk, but sometimes you have to make bold moves in business.”

My father nodded approvingly. “That’s exactly right. Calculated risks separate the men from the boys in this world.”

I pushed my salmon around the plate, barely tasting it. My thoughts kept drifting to Leo’s face when he’d seen David, the way the light was extinguished in his eyes, the betrayal that flashed across his features before the mask of indifference slammed back into place.

“Annaliese?” My mother’s voice pulled me back. “David asked you a question.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, looking up to find three pairs of eyes on me. “What was that?”

David’s smile was indulgent, practiced. “I was asking if you’d like to show me around town tomorrow. Maybe hit some of those museums you mentioned?”

The thought of hobbling through the exhibits with David made my ankle throb harder. “I don’t think that is a good idea with my ankle.”

“Oh, nonsense,” my mother interjected. “A little walking will strengthen it. Besides, you can’t keep your boyfriend cooped up all day.”

“Actually….” David chuckled. “Annaliese, should we tell them?”

Please, no. “I don’t think it’s the right time—”

“Tell us what?” My mother sat forward eagerly.

My father finally looked interested in my life. The one thing I always wanted, and now it was twisted. All wrong. The restaurant suddenly felt too warm, too close. The weight of three expectant gazes pressed down on me like a physical force.

“I asked Annaliese if we should get married.” David’s smile was car-salesman shiny.

My throat constricted.

“Oh my word!” My mother’s shriek pierced the restaurant’s refined atmosphere. Several nearby diners turned to stare as she pressed her hands to her chest dramatically. “Alfred, did you hear that? Our little girl is getting married!”

Little girl.

It almost sounded matronly. As though she hadn’t birthed me, then sent me straight into the arms of the hired help.

My father’s face lit up with the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in months. “Well, I’ll be damned. Congratulations, sweetheart.” He reached across the table to shake David’s hand vigorously. “You’re getting a hell of a woman, son.”

Son….

The room spun slightly as I gripped my wine glass, knuckles white. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. David was supposed to be my shield, not my shackle. The fake engagement was meant to buy me time, not trap me in front of my parents’ gleaming faces.

“When’s the wedding?” My mother was already pulling out her phone. “I have to tell your Uncle Jon! He’ll want to come over to join us for drinks. He would have been here already, but his social calendar was booked for the evening!”

“Excuse me.” I pushed from the table, nearly knocking over my wine in my haste, and hurried as fast as my bummed foot would let me move.

My heartbeat was a frantic drum against my ribs, matching the uneven rhythm of my steps as I made for the back hallway.

I pushed through the heavy doors, gasping and frantic.

This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. But as I breathed hard, pressed in the back hall of the restaurant, the notion dawned on me that this was a setback. I could let it conquer me, or I could continue to be the master of my own story.

It was clearly time to end things with David.

Resolve snaked through me, fierce and stubborn. David was never meant to be permanent. A fleeting character in my story, not the final act. I had to finish this, to move on to a new thread in the narrative. I crafted the plot how I chose. I always had. And I would again.

I took a deep, steadying breath. My parents could not win.

I would not let them. I would not let David.

My chest still ached with panic, but the burn was now fueled by determination.

I just had to be smart. Be patient. That was something I knew how to do.

I could play this game a little longer if I had to.

My decision was made. It was clearly time to break things off.

I pushed off from the wall and hobbled back to the dining room.

David and my parents were waiting, eyes trained on the empty hallway behind me.

I forced my mouth into a smile, my lips a little too tight, and rejoined them.

They could talk about weddings. I was dumping David the moment we were alone.