Page 135 of Wanted

Jordan found Spencer, letting out his frustrations on him.

That resulted in Spencer needing to be hospitalized.

This was then followed by a public statement of Spencer Rawlins’ retreat from Katantia. Taron Wraith wasn’t resurrected, and he wouldn’t be while I was in power. Spencer Rawlins had sent the other car to crash into my brother’s car.

Once upon a time, Spencer had been destined for the throne. He was younger than Aram, but his father believed in him. For years, we’d ignored the truth. There was only one person who wanted my grandfather dead. That was my father. Aram wanted the throne to himself, and he wouldn’t have his parents give it to his younger brother.

Spencer left Katantia, but he became larger than life.

He came home, wanting to avenge his father’s death. He had attempted to kill Katantia’s most-beloved couple. Spencer had played with my family. It wasn’t our fault that he and Aram had issues. We wouldn’t pay for their sins.

Spencer left the country once. He could’ve helped us rebuild what was once there, but Taron Wraith cared about his ego and wallet, not the people. Rawlins disagreed with the new Katantia that grieved its once-blooming South Side. We didn’t want more Hole Stores. Katantia was a community, and it was time for its crown to strengthen the community’s bonds.

Jordan never told me what he did to Spencer. Rawlins retreated from public life, hiding away in his Chicago estate.

That was the mess of my first couple of days of being Queen of Katantia.

Then came my coronation. Symbolically, we scheduled it to occur in the ruins of the palace. The structure of the building was still there, but the inside had been looted. The gardens were destroyed. Windows were broken. Messages of protest were sprayed over the walls, the ones that still stood. Dirt had sullied my former home, and for some reason, it also gave me peace among my anxiety attacks. Jordan promised to clean everything up in a matter of weeks.

Big events with me at the center promised to be hectic.

♥♠♥

“Are you sure you don’t want to wear a dress?” Mandy asked. She fiddled with her hair absentmindedly. Weston was downstairs, waiting in the living room. Fylox was there, too, but I doubted that they were in deep conversation.

Fylox and I hadn’t spoken to anyone about what had happened to Aram Wraith.

Jordan’s men cleaned up the scene, and they dug a grave for him in the family’s graveyard. There wasn’t an official ceremony for his funeral. Some of his friends assembled at the gates to pay their tributes, but they weren’t allowed inside the compound of the palace.

Why would I wear a dress to my coronation? This wasn’t a celebration. I wouldn’t become the laughing stock or an iconic meme.Look at her, dancing on her father’s grave.“I’ve proven my womanhood to them for years. I want to wear a suit for this occasion. It’ll be a fashion statement.”

Mandy nodded. She’d got ready in Aris and Valentina’s home, hoping to cheer Valentina up. It hadn’t worked. Valentina didn’t get out of bed today. Again.

Felicita ended up helping Mandy dress. She’d done an excellent job, resembling a makeover. Mandy’s dark hair was in curls, and her eyes shone in the decadent makeup of her face. Felicita had been generous with the glitter, and it looked foreign on Mandy. She kept touching her face.

“Felicita really wanted to be here,” Mandy said as I put on my diamond earrings that went with one of the more delicate necklaces my mother had gifted me.

“I understand. There’s no pressure. We, out of all people, know what it’s like to lose a parent,” I responded. I’d spared my skin the glitter for today. I went with smoky eyes and nude lipstick. People would remember this day. I had to appear timeless. “The Cross family deserves to be a part of the new Katantia. If it weren’t for Travis…”

Mandy understood. She nodded, turning away from me.

“If it weren’t for Travis, I wouldn’t be standing here.” I took a deep breath. “He was a blessing and a curse. At this point, he’s saved me more times than I can count, and I intend to do right by his family.”

“What about Aris?” she asked. The tremble in her voice mirrored my inner turmoil.

“We wait.”

“What if he never wakes up?”

I shuddered at the thought. “My brother won’t die in that hospital. He won’t. If he were to die in there, his wife would murder us all. We can’t let him die. We have to hold on to hope. He’s out of surgery, and he’s stable for now. We just have to wait until he wakes up.”

I could’ve rambled for an hour. There was nothing to celebrate. My family and my country were broken.

It was my turn to fix things.

♥♠♥

In the three days of chaos post-Aram’s death, I managed to prepare a speech for my people. Cameras were set up at the entrance of the palace. This would be broadcasted worldwide.