Wicked Royals (Elites of Macedon High 1)

My mother hums in agreement. “Arrangements should be made to marry her off to Parker immediately.” She pauses for effect and then adds, “You know, it would be so dishonorable if word got out about this, Ophelia.”

“It would,” Ophelia agrees. I can hear her irritation even though I can’t see her from my vantage point.

Just knowing that I’ve bruised her plans makes another triumphant smile cross my lips. The event doesn’t last particularly long, and most of the families are gone by the time Ophelia and my mother exchange words again.

“You’ll pay for your trickery,” Ophelia threatens. “Mark my fucking words, Paulina. You should know better than to cross me like that.”

When I peek around the corner of the doorway, I see my shaken mother clutch the front of her blouse. Fear consumes her eyes while she takes a tentative step back. Before Ophelia can say much more, one of our security men wanders into the room and whispers something to my father. More business, I presume. It never ends around here.

With a sigh, I push away from the doorway and wander quietly through the servant hallways back to my bedroom.

Married. To Alexandra Moretti. To the chick that gave me the worst blue balls in my life.

But she’ll be mine.

I sink into the mattress, listening to the way the house creaks around me. Servants bustle through the corridors; one of the security guards does a lap up the hallway and back, and then there’s the baseline white noise that clutters the air, the tension that perpetually hangs between my father and me every single fucking day.

Sensing his anxiety makes me smile viciously. For the very first time, I’m actually winning. He won’t get Alex. He won’t be able to get a taste of her. I’ve already had my fill and I plan on cashing in on so much more, her supple skin so satisfying that it makes me feel starved just to think about the time I have to be without it.

In time, I think. I’ll have her in a routine once she’s under this roof.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I look up to see my mother smiling with favor while she tentatively steps into the room. She stops for a second, plays with her pearl bracelet, and then proceeds toward me. “Son, I was just thinking about what you told me.”

“Oh?”

“Not to cast doubt on you or anything, but I want to know the truth.”

I arch my right eyebrow. “About what?”

“Did you take Alexandra’s virginity as you said?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

The way her gaze sharpens tells me she’s about to spit venom if I don’t give her what she wants. It’s not even about it actually being the truth—it’s just about her being right. “Why the fuck would you think you could ever pull the wool over my eyes?”

“I didn’t do that.”

“Don’t lie to me, Parker. Tell me the goddamn truth. Did you or did you not pop that girl’s cherry?”

I rub the back of my neck. “No, I didn’t. She’s still a virgin. We lied so we could get married.”

“You lied so you could get married?”

“Yeah, is there a fucking echo in here or something?”

Her boiling expression drops when my father walks purposefully into the room. She’s about to slice his head off when he holds up his phone and says, “Another body’s been found.”

I stand from the bed and stand close to my mother so I can see the phone. “Where?”

“Thasos,” Dad responds. “And I think you’ll recognize who that is.”

The details in the photograph are vivid, revealing a bloated body with prune-like skin and cloudy white eyes. Lodged in the right side of the body beneath the armpit is a large hunting knife. It appears to be the cause of death, considering its size and the position of the blade. That was an intentional stab meant to put this man under.

I nod. “That’s one of Gilbert D’Hautpoul’s hitmen.”

“It is, Parker,” Dad agrees while tucking his phone away. “That means we have a big fucking problem on our hands.”

“What was he doing at the docks?”