Vengeful Royals: Heirs of Havoc, #3

VENGEFUL ROYALS

When you make powerful enemies, there’s always a price to pay…

American royalty Jude Carlisle and fiery, independent Brooklyn James, have overcome so much, they’re ready to just enjoy the sweetness of finally being together.

But pairing a girl who’s worked for everything she’s ever had, with a guy who’s used to getting everything he’s ever wanted, makes for a bumpy road toward happily-ever-after.

And even though they might be ready to let go of the past, there are other’s who won’t.

Others who are waiting. Watching. Planning.

And as they set their game in motion, Jude and Brooklyn will be faced with an unbearable choice.

Because sometimes, to save the person you love, you have to sacrifice yourself…

VENGEFUL ROYALS is the FINAL BOOK in the Heirs of Havoc Series. A dark bully romance intended for readers 18+. This book contains dark themes, including abuse, violence and sexual relationships that some readers might be uncomfortable with.

1

JUDE

Sorry to bring you down here, the detective working most closely with us on our case was leading me down a dark, drafty hall in the police station. Aiden McNamara seemed to be taking a special interest in this case, likely because of his budding relationship with my sister.

It’s whatever, I said, looking around me. Ugh, this place was gross. It smelled like cheap, burnt coffee and fake leather. 

We just need to dot a few i’s and cross a few t’s, Aiden was saying cheerfully, as he opened a locked door to a hallway. 

I looked him up and down. What was with this dude and his damn joviality? Weren’t cops supposed to be grim and cynical? Aiden was a poster child for the all-American guy, all blonde hair and big white teeth and always smiling at something. 

Here we are! he said, stopping in front of what looked like an interrogation room if my hours of watching trash cop shows had taught me anything. Oh! he smacked a hand to his head. Gotta grab the paperwork, silly me. You go on in, and I’ll be back in a jif.

See what I mean about this guy? Back in a jif? Where the hell did he think we were, the cornfields of Oklahoma?

Rolling my eyes, I opened the door to the examination room and entered, hearing it click decisively behind me.

And came face to face with Mommy Dearest.

She was seated, handcuffed to the table in front of her. Even in the county-issued gray jumpsuit, she managed to look regal, even well put together. Her hair was neatly tied up in what could almost pass for its usual upsweep, and nothing about her posture or demeanor indicated that she was not exactly where she was supposed to be. 

Mother, I said, the word coming out mostly out of surprise than anything else.

Don’t stand there like a gaping fish, Jude, she said, waving a shackled hand to the seat across from her.

Still stunned, I moved automatically to the seat across from her, dropping into it. 

Aren’t you pleased to see Mommy? she asked, an evil little smile flitting across her face.

That smug tone did it for me. Fuck this. I stood up and went to the door. But when I yanked on the handle, it didn’t move. I pulled it again. Nothing. That idiot detective had locked me in.

Ready to talk to me yet?

I turned around slowly. What the hell do you want?

She looked pointedly at the seat I had just vacated. Heaving a sigh, I sat. I was stuck here, guess I’d have to hear her out.

I cannot figure out where on earth I went wrong with you and your sister, Mother said. "After all that I have done for you, all the sacrifices I’ve made, you two betray me like this?"

Is one of those sacrifices having our father killed? I looked her dead in the eye.

She rolled her eyes, as if I were being unspeakably childish. We only have a few moments, let us not waste them on talk of the past.

Then what is it that you do want to talk about, Mother?

I’m going away, likely for some time, she said it matter-of-factly. But there is something you need to consider.

I yawned and glanced at my watch. It had stopped working weeks ago and needed a new battery, but the action of looking at it got my point across well enough. 

This little girl you have helping you? Ed and Marissa’s daughter?

What about her?

From a place of motherly concern, I would tell you to watch out for that one. She raised her brows. If you do not cut her off, she will eat you alive, my boy.

I stared at her. ‘A place of motherly concern’? She had never once shown anything of the sort. And that’s exactly how she ended up in the situation she was currently in.

Because she thought of no one but herself.

Oh, you can give me that look that you and Lila both have perfected. But it does not change the facts, son, and those are that you if you do not end things with this girl, you are in for big, big trouble.

I shoved back from the table, crossing my arms. Seriously? You think you can just throw out a half-assed warning and I’ll second guess my entire relationship with Brooklyn because I trust your judgement so much? I know what you’re doing. You’re stuck in here, so you’re lashing out, attacking the only way you can. But, you aren’t going to topple me so easy.

Her brow creased in what looked like real concern. I steeled myself, this woman knew nothing but how to make herself happy. This wasn’t real.

Seriously, Jude. This isn’t real at all.

Jude, honey, you’re entitled to think that. Her voice dripped with saccharine sweetness. I know I haven’t been the best mother. I’ve let you and your sister down. I was never able to be one of those round, cuddly mothers who baked cookies and accepted mediocrity from her children. Her voice hardened. "I raised you and Lila to be extraordinary. I would have been incapable of allowing anything but that in our household. But know this, Jude. Though I am not a sweet mother, I am not a kind mother, I am not even necessarily a loving mother - I have an eye for bullshit that rivals even yours. And that girl? That Brooklyn? She was raised in bullshit. She will take everything from you and laugh herself to the bank.

I snickered. Just shut-

I knew her parents, Jude, she said, her voice rising over mine. I knew them both, better than you, better than her even. She comes from a long line of swindlers and cheats. Just tell me this, has she ever been fully honest with you? Since the beginning?

I didn’t answer, her words piercing my shield, even though I knew better than to let them.

Mother cocked her head to the side. Did she? She had no reason to be dishonest. But she was, wasn’t she?

I looked away. The thing was, Brooklyn had been dishonest. When I’d first met her, she had been working to take my family down on campus, while also working as a maid in my house. She never even told me she knew me, even when we met officially on campus. Then there was everything that had happened with that douche, Merritt. 

See? Mother’s voice softened, taking on the silky smoothness of a snake. "I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I? Jude, that’s because a part of you knows that something is not right with this girl. You can’t stand me, why should anything I say hit home unless there was a part of you that suspected the same? Her voice became even quieter. Did you? Suspect the same?"

Was there a part of me that doubted Brooklyn? Even after everything we had been through, it could not be denied that our relationship had started off on a lie, on a pack of lies, and that she had only come clean about those when forced to; a lesson that I had learned time and time again with her. 

The door behind me buzzed open, a loud sound that startled us both. Aiden stood in the doorway, looking distressed. 

Jude, I’m so sorry. I thought this room was empty, I had no idea-

Whatever. I stood and left the room as quickly as I could, not bothering to glance back at my shackled, prison-suited mother. Just get me the fuck out of here.

In the hall, I rounded on him. How did that happen? You just end up locking me in a room alone with my mother?

He shook his head in disbelief, not that I believed one bit of it. Something like that should never happen. Listen, let me buy you a coffee. I’ll make it up to you. The stuff we have here in the station is swill.

Don’t I have paperwork to sign? What did you call me down here for if not for that?

I was mistaken, it’s all taken care of. You can go.

I scoffed. Then, I’ll skip the coffee, thanks. I needed space to clear my head, to get the echo of my mother’s voice out of it. 

Another time then. Aiden looked as if he wanted to push it, but eventually walked away, back in the direction of the room holding my mother. 

I watched him go. Had it been a mistake? He dragged me down here for paperwork that suddenly was unnecessary, and I end up alone in an interrogation room with Mother? How did something like that happen accidentally? But what reason would he have to set something like that up? It didn’t make sense. I would be keeping my eye on Aiden going forward though, because there was definitely something about him that was not sitting right. The last thing Lila needed right now was to get involved with someone off.

And I’d protect her at all costs.

When I got home, I noticed Brooklyn’s beater parked in the employee lot. We had been spending all of our time together, but now I wished she weren’t here. I needed to get the seeds of doubt so kindly planted in my mind dug out before she noticed something was up. 

I opened the door to my room. She was laying on her stomach on my bed, wearing my silk monogrammed robe, a Christmas gift from Margeaux, and looking completely at home. She hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took advantage of the moment to consider what Mother had said. Could she just be using me? Could our connection be a ploy to earn this? She looked pretty comfortable in my California King, atop my Egyptian cotton sheets, dressed in a robe that had probably cost a thousand dollars.

I must have made some kind of noise, because she sat up and turned around. Hey you! she said, jumping up to kiss me. She smelled like my shampoo, which I knew to be stupid expensive because Lila ordered it special for me along with hers from Paris. 

Hey, I said.

Well? How was it? She sat cross legged at the end of my bed, her pretty legs flashing in the sun, and I realized she was naked beneath my robe. 

Inside, a certain part of me stopped caring whether my mother was right about her or not.

I blinked. How was what?

She lifted a red brow. The police station? Where you just were?

Oh, that. I shook a cigarette from my pack and opened the window. Fine.

She laughed. What’s up with you? Are your ribs bothering you? She got up and placed a gentle hand on my ribs. Even at this lightest touch, a surge of heat shot down my veins. I pushed her away.

I’m fine, I snapped, and then immediately felt guilty as I watched her face cloud with hurt. Listen, I’m sorry, but I think I just need some space.

If I had said that to Margeaux, it would have launched World War III. The idea that I would ever not derive total joy from her presence was something she simply could not comprehend. Brooklyn was an adult. Her face cleared at once.

Yeah, of course. You’re right, I’ve spent nearly every second here. She slipped out of my robe, and I forced myself to look out the window while she dressed. I could barely handle her hand on my ribs, there was no way I would be able to resist her naked body. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she kissed me lightly on the cheek. We’ll catch up later.

The moment she walked through the door, I wanted to call her back. What the hell was I doing? I went to the door and threw it open, thinking to call her back, but the doubt sitting heavy in my throat stopped me. 

I collapsed backward onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as I took a last drag of my cigarette. I knew Brooklyn was poor. And it was true that she had hidden her identity from me for the sole purpose of bringing down my mother. I also knew that she had hated my family before we met, that working here and cleaning up after our messes for years had inspired a resentment and anger that had led her on the path to writing exposes about my mother’s dirty dealings as a Congresswoman. Could I be sure that her vendetta against the Carlisles was over now that its Congresswoman matriarch was behind bars?

It reeks in here. I looked up to see Lila shoving my window open higher. Stop smoking in bed, that’s disgusting.

I’m done anyway. I tossed the butt into my wastebasket, dropping an arm over my eyes. 

What’s up with you? And where’s your girlfriend? The two of you have been inseparable lately, I’ve nearly had to move out to avoid your gag-inducing lovefest.

She’s not my girlfriend.

That startled her into silence. I hoped it would scare her away, but then I felt her hand lift my arm off my face. 

What the hell are you talking about? What’s going on, Jude?

I groaned. Can you just leave me alone? I don’t need your interrogation.

She was quiet for a second. Is that what this is about? What happened at the police station today?

Damn. She knew me too well, even the smallest error in word choice and she was on me like a bloodhound. Now that she had caught the scent, there was no chance of her leaving me alone.

I saw Mother.

She dropped onto the bed, mouth dropping along with her. What? In the cell or what? You visited her?

No.

Jude, I swear to God if you make me pull this whole story out of you a piece at a time I’m going to punch you in the throat. 

I knew that wasn’t an idle threat, either. I sighed. Your cop boyfriend screwed up. He brought me to an interrogation room to finish off that paperwork he told us about and then wouldn’t you know it, there’s mom handcuffed to the table.

She gasped, her hand flying to her throat.

I tossed my arm back over my eyes. I tried to leave, but dumbass Mister Detective had locked me in with her. I was stuck in the room for probably five minutes at most, but it was enough.

Enough for what?

Enough to be glad she’s in jail. Enough for her to get under my skin.

She clicked her tongue. Enough for her to say something about Brooklyn that’s got you suddenly saying she’s not your girlfriend, maybe? And that’s the reason this is the first time in weeks I’ve seen you in your room without her?

My damn sister didn’t miss a thing. I flicked my lighter, looking down at it instead of her. Yeah, I guess.

Tell me.

I continued to flick my lighter. Lit. Not. Lit. Not. She said that I didn’t know her, that she’d known her parents. That they were all untrustworthy scrabblers trying to increase their wealth and their influence by any means necessary. That Brooklyn was just using me, and the truth of it would come out eventually.

She sighed. You absolute idiot.

I glared at her. She has a point, Lila! Tell me that some of this doesn’t ring true with you, too. She lied to us from the very beginning. You remember that first day we saw her. She was protesting on campus? She acted like she didn’t even know us when she’d probably been cleaning our toilets that very morning! It took months for me to find out who she really was!

You’re telling me you’re judging her because she didn’t come right out and say, ‘hey hunky dude I’m vibing with-slash being pushed around by, I’m one of your house’s two thousand maids?’

As if to prove her point, there was a knock at the door and a young blonde maid entered, looking terrified, with a cleaning caddy on her arm and wheeling a vacuum.

Not now, please, I said, my voice only slightly harsh. Come back later.

She hesitated, but must have decided she’d rather face Janey’s ire than mine, because she quickly left. Ever since Brooklyn, I have been totally unable to ignore the help like I used to. It was mostly a curse, because now I was stuck recognizing how many people we really had picking up after us, waiting on us hand and foot. It made me uncomfortable in a way I’d never been before. 

Look, I hear what you’re saying, Lila said, once the sound of the vacuum had disappeared down the hall. I didn’t trust her at first either. But I think she has more than earned our trust by now.

"Has she though? Did we ever really face all of the lies, the deceit? The shit with lax bro extraordinaire, Merritt?"

You know that me and Margeaux set up the Merritt thing just to get you away from her, she said.

There was still something there, though. I flicked my lighter again and the flame shot out higher, fed by the bits of gas I’d been letting into the air with every flick, singeing my knuckle. Fuck! I threw it to the ground. 

You’re making an amateur mistake, J, Lila’s voice was soft. You’re letting her get to you. What did we used to say to each other when we were little?

Mother doesn’t know best, I said, smiling a little at the bittersweet memory. It had not taken us long to realize that there was something seriously wrong with our mother, that most of the things she said and did were not, in fact, in our best interests, but in her own. When she would say things like, Carlisles do not cry, or forbid a friendship because the relationship did not benefit her or the family, we had started saying that phrase like a mantra, a way for us to know we did not live in a normal home.

Lila placed her hand on my knee. "Mother doesn’t know best. We were right then and we’re right now. She does not know what’s best for you, she does not have your best interest at heart, and every time you forget that, you put yourself at risk of being sucked into the Carlisle second dimension."

I stared down at my hands. Was she right?

Lila answered the question as if I had spoken it out loud. "Of course I’m right. No one knows better than me. Let me ask you