Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

“We were just discussing his conviction rate.”

“Highest in years.”

They laughed. I clenched my jaw and focused across the lawn. Story had come out.

All I want to do is snap back at my grandfather. Topple him. Get rid of his influence.

Crowne Industries was always successful, but under my grandfather’s tutelage it became a behemoth. Something to be feared. I’m not naive. I wear the last name Crowne but I don’t wear the crown.

He’s a king, and you don’t topple a king without an army.

With a snap of his fingers he could make Story disappear.

Grandfather and DA Millard finished talking, Millard walked away, his threat sufficiently clear.

“Do you know what happens when you keep tightening a string?” I asked. “It snaps.”

“You know, your father and I had a very similar conversation years ago. It’s always good to know how much you’re willing to lose before you start a war, Grayson. He wasn’t willing to lose anything.”

I lifted my eyes, colliding with his.

“I’m not my father.”

STORY

* * *

I’ve only been to parties at Crowne Hall, but the du Lacs came in second place. All the servants were instructed to wear white, and guests were dressed in soft linens and beige, like sand. On the emerald lawn, everyone looked like a still from an old movie.

I blended in with the other servants in their outfits of starched white, and I was pretty confident no one would notice me. Just another servant among the many, there to do her duty for her mistress.

A man to my left eyed me. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but as I moved to another spot, his gaze followed me.

Caution crept up my spine. I had my gaze lowered but still kept an eye on him. Everywhere I went, his eyes followed me. It wasn’t lascivious, as when I’d been nearly gambled with Khalid and all the other boys at that table.

This man seemed to be studying me.

I decided Lottie would rather I head inside than attract attention.

“Wait,” the man spoke, and I stopped short, too trained to not stop. He walked around and came to me, stopping in front of me.

“Do you work here?” he asked.

“I work for the Crownes…”

“How long?”

I did the mental math. “A while.”

“Do you live at Crowne Hall?”

His questions were spitfire.

He looked like he was in his mid-thirties and wasn’t unattractive—he had that tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. He didn’t have a press badge and was dressed in the same soft linen as everyone else, but he had that deep, probing look in his face that made my gut churn.

“Yes,” I finally said.

“Do you know the couple?” He nodded at Grayson and Lottie.