Page 25 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)

T he bruising emotions leaked from my very pores as I watched the sun come over the horizon.

It had been a night from hell, the last chance to back down from the decision I made.

If I was going to do this, it had to be now.

My insides were at war. Let her go—or bind her to my side?

From my living room, the panoramic view of the city, and the lake beyond, glowed in a rosy haze.

The daylight mocked me, chasing away the shadows in which I’d wallowed all night.

I was too hard on her.

Something inside me snapped at the lake. I had to fight myself, battle my instinct, and force my desire into chains.

Mad at myself for being so weak, I lashed out at her.

Had she cried?

Was there a shred of humanity in my temptress?

“Of course there fucking is,” I snarled, pushing out of my armchair and stalking to my bedroom.

Just because my heart started beating a little too hard, just because I wanted to kiss her more than I wanted to breathe…that didn’t give me the right to act like a damn brute.

But now the damage was done. She would never accept my offer. So today I would go above her. The trap was laid; it was time to set it.

“I’m just a jaded asshole,” I told my reflection, covered by the steam from the shower.

If my younger self could see me now, he would lust after the power I held. But what he wouldn’t understand was that I was cursed, bound to this penthouse and to this life. Doomed to be forever alone—even while surrounded in the boardroom, lauded at events, or right next to another human.

There was one time, just once, when I didn’t feel that way. And it had all been a lie.

My plan for revenge wasn’t even a good one. What was I going to do? Marry a socialite? I would forever be living two lives at home, hiding the fact that I was part of the mob. I already did that in public. My sanctuary was the only place I could be me.

And dammit, my prison was lonely.

So fucking lonely.

If I went through with my plan to bind her to me, then I would forever be Leonard Baldwin—forever living a secret half-life.

But I’d decided Annaliese wouldn’t have a happily ever after riding off into the sunset with someone else. If the cost was an invasion of my privacy, I would pay. And who knew! It might be nice not to come home to an empty castle. If I had to keep up the facade around her? Then that was the price.

I dressed, putting on the trappings of a businessman. It might be Sunday, but the Good Lord would have to forgive this sinner’s absence yet again. There was work to be done.

As I journeyed to the lobby, I texted the valet to bring my McLaren to the front. Stepping onto the stoop, the humidity smacked me with a vicious, sloppy wet kiss. The designer threads of the suit itched.

Annoyed at life and every small detail of my existence, I nearly missed the figure lounging across the street.

But the sixth sense I’d honed from my years in the mob, training beside my brother to fight for survival, tingled at the back of my neck. A second glance showed the man was staring—staring right at me.

I glared at him.

He wore a hoodie, pulled low to cover most of his face. His mouth, however, was visible. The imp gave me a saucy grin before he turned leisurely on his heel and sauntered away.

“What in the seven hells was that?” I growled under my breath.

Making a mental note to have the building’s security footage sent to me, I shook off the encounter, took my keys from the valet, and slid into my baby.

She purred in greeting, but even her voice held a mocking note.

I rode her hard along the miles between my tower and my rival’s abode. My secretary already set up the meeting, and the gates swung open in an ominous greeting. Armed with the copied documents, I let the maid show me to the office.

The murmur of voices abruptly stopped the moment I stepped inside.

“Mr. Baldwin, such a wonderful surprise,” Hertz said coolly, looking up from behind his elongated desk. A fatter version of the businessman sat on the opposite end, but his smile seemed friendly.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir!” The rotund man rose and scurried over. “I’m Jon Hertz, the silent partner.”

I shook his soft paw. “Good morning. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Of course, of course!” Jon’s smile brightened. “When a man of your caliber wants to chat, who are we to say no?”

He seemed nice. But the tickle in my mind warned me it might be a bit too forced.

Walking casually across the room, I examined the strategically decorated space.

In my opinion, an office should speak to the owner’s character or be utterly simple and highly functional.

Like mine. I kept no knick-knacks, allowed no stylist to decorate.

It was a cold, unfeeling place where I could lose myself to work.

If I had the option, I would rather have a space like my brother’s, where it spoke of power and the great mind behind the executive desk.

Sandro filled his offices with things that attested to his character.

This place was boring. Curated to the highest degree. A miserable failure.

It was hard to believe someone like Hertz could outmatch me on the field of business. That’d been a costly mistake, one I was remedying right now.

“I have it in my power to destroy your business.” I set my briefcase on the desk in front of the men.

The tension thickened across the room.

“Then why haven’t you done it?” Alfred countered, bracing his hands on the desk.

“He wants something,” Jon murmured, watching me with wide eyes.

“Or he’s bluffing,” Alfred mused.

Snapping the buckles of the case, I opened the lid. The first folder of documents fell between the men. Alfred didn’t move, but his brother flicked open the file. His sharp inhale cut through the room.

“How did you find these?” Jon gasped.

“Does it matter?” Alfred kept his attention focused on me. “He clearly has connections.”

I did. Although I didn’t have the first clue who they were. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Of course you do,” Alfred spat. “And what do you want in exchange for your silence?”

Oh, I’m not giving you my silence. I would play nice, bide my time to strike. But first, I was taking the one thing I shouldn’t want and was determined to have.

The media mogul pinned me with a calculating look. He was willing to pay, but he was also determined to fight me.

Taking a deep breath, I laid my offer down. “I want Annaliese—as my wife.”

Jon blinked. “You’ve got to be joking!”

But Alfred only watched me. Surely, he knew the animosity between his daughter and me. After our date the other night, any good father would wave a shotgun in my face, not sit there and consider giving his child to such a monster.

Yet he didn’t flinch. “Done.”

“Alfred!” Jon gasped. “How can you say such a horrid thing?”

The man lifted a shoulder. The hairs of his goatee twitched with his sly smile.

“This gives him an excuse not to strike. She’s the reason he never owned a controlling share.

Her little stunt of rebellion tipped us off, gave us time to shore up our business, and prevent him—and any other sharks—from stealing what has been in our family for generations. ”

What he didn’t know was that I intended to take his company apart, brick by brick. This blackmail allowed me to have Annaliese, however, and I was going to play every angle.

“This isn’t the olden days. We can’t do this!” Jon protested.

“We can,” I insisted.

“He’s right. And it will be fitting to seal her in the fate she once thought she so desperately wanted,” Alfred laughed humorlessly. There was a definite flare of triumph in his eyes, a bitter, terrible gleam that soured my gut.

As cruel as the bargain was, it was a devil’s deal. The sweetest ambrosia laced with poison. It was as fine as strategy got, and if he hadn’t made it so personal, I would have admired the cunning. A trickle of dread pooled in my stomach, because this wasn’t just a business maneuver.

Lust, ambition, power—it all drove me. But the bastard was counting on more than that. He was counting on one fatal flaw to save his own skin.

He hedged his bet on the belief that I wanted her.

I do want her.

The admission hit me like an uppercut to the chest. The air huffed from my lungs. Hertz gave me a quizzical look, but before he could comment, I glared at him.

“Let me get this straight, you want to marry my niece instead of taking our business?” Jon repeated, stalling and buying time.

My blood warmed. Marry Annaliese. It sounded surreal. “I do.”

“Let’s draw up a contract,” Alfred said with finality.

I knew better than anyone what it was like to have a maniacal father. He was using the same tactics as my own. Annaliese must be under that same oppressive thumb, and I never realized.

Sweet Annaliese, who stole my kisses…. Had she suffered, just like me? Had she broken free, only to be dragged back into the pit?

Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

Almost without me realizing it, the dread turned to hope—or at least that swift substitute players feel right before they see the final card flipped. I had a good hand, one Hertz didn’t know about. It never crossed my mind that Annaliese was in this position. That she was caught like me.

It gave everything a whole new light.

But if you think for one second your daughter will stop me from tearing down your business, you have another think coming.