Tyrant Twins (Tyrant Dynasty 1)

I don’t answer her question. It’s too loaded for me to even consider an answer. With a sigh, I head to my bathroom, where my rigorous beauty regime begins.

I take a frustratingly short shower and let Maggie choose something for me to wear. She loves going through my clothes. I’m fairly sure she or one of the other maids have nicked a few things from my wardrobe too, but I’m too busy to deal with that on top of everything else on my to-do list.

Maggie helps me do my hair and makeup, sprays my wrists with my mother’s perfume, and brings me one of my Dolce bags. I scrutinize my appearance in the mirror.

Waist-length dark hair falls in rich waves down my back. My outfit is worth thousands, but I’m worth more. At twenty-one years old, I have the world at my fingertips. I could have any one of the eligible bachelors in this city. Unfortunately, I only have my eyes on one... and he's the one I can't have.

Once I get ready, my trainer is already waiting. Before six a.m., I’ve finished my yoga session, drank a disgusting green smoothie, and went for a swim in the heated pool in the house. Then I'm off to the offices downtown to meet some investors—my least favorite part of the business.

While my employees are mostly running the place on their own, Wildfox Miller Inc is first and foremost a family company. So, I'm required to come in daily to keep up morale and appearances.

I prance around the office in too-high heels and too-expensive clothes. I eat a little and work out a lot, making myself look perfect from the crack of dawn to the late hours of the night. I work myself until I'm so tired I collapse on the fluffy pillow in my bedroom with my clothes and heels still on. Another one of my maids, Patty, has to force me to get up again and wash my makeup off, change into pajamas, and complete another rigorous beauty regimen.

I lay down a pair of panties and silk pajamas for the night in the bathroom and drop my dirty underwear to the floor. Jumping into the steam walk-in shower, I allow the hot mist to envelop my tired body.

Ages later, I come back out and reach for my panties as I wrap a towel around my wet hair. But they aren't there.

Confused, I check the spot where I left them, but there's nothing there. I grab another towel from the rack and wrap it around my torso.

"Patty!" I call out, but there's no answer.

I find the late-night shift maid in the hallway dusting a vase.

"Patty, did you take my clothes?" I demand, and she gives me an empty stare.

"No, miss, not yet," she says apologetically. "I'll have them taken down to the laundry room and cleaned now."

"But I..." I furrow my brows, wrapping the towel tighter around my chest, my hair now falling down my back in wet tendrils. "Never mind. Sorry."

I return to my quarters to blow-dry my hair and pin it up in curlers for the night. As I go back to my bedroom, I notice the balcony doors are open, the white silk curtains billowing in the wind. How strange. I never keep those open. The white-washed French doors keep rattling if I do.

I close the doors and pick a new set of pajamas and underwear to wear, trying not to worry about my mind playing tricks on me.

As my head hits the satin pillow, I'm thinking about the twins again, hoping I'll dream of them that night. The nightmares that plagued me as a little girl seem to be gone… But the memory of my night terrors is still there—frightening, dark, and as alarming as ever.

15 years ago

Little girls develop dangerous crushes. And from the moment I laid eyes on Kade Miller, he was my new obsession.

I could tell the twins apart from the first time I saw them. Kade—with his dark, intent gaze that spoke of intelligence beyond his ten years of age, and Parker—goofy, sweet Parker, who would move mountains to give me what I wanted.

Our parents introduced us. Any other pair of brothers would have shunned me, but not Kade and Parker. No, they took one of my hands each and led me out to play while the movers unpacked mine and my mother’s things in the new house.

The twins took me into the backyard. The house we were to live in had a big backyard, and the boys had a treehouse on a large oak tree by the fence. They helped me climb the rickety stepladder leading up to their haven. When I stepped into their abode, a special feeling settled over me. I was in their sacred place now, and I wanted to be respectful. I wanted them to like me. The need to please, to be their friend, made me desperate.