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A ROYAL RUCKUS
A TWISTED ROYALS STORY
By
Maggie Ryan
PROLOGUE
Freaking unbelievable!
That was the first thought that popped into my head when the car pulled to a stop. Well, actually, fucking was the first word but I managed not to let it slip out. Not because I was adverse to cursing, but because, from the moment of my birth, I’d been bombarded with warnings to be aware of my surroundings. But far more dire were the horror stories I’d had to endure about what would happen if I forgot for a single second that some unnamed person was watching, listening, just waiting to jump out of the shadows with cameras or phones flashing to catch me in a compromising situation.
I couldn’t understand how not even a single one of these people, from my dear parents to the nannies, governesses and tutors had ever once considered that maybe, just maybe, a person could only hear so much of this diatribe before the warnings became more of a dare. Surely I couldn’t be the only person ever born who felt as if hearing another a “lady does not”—please feel free to fill in the blank—was going to make their head explode. I’d had it and tonight this lady was definitely going to be filling in a great many of those blanks if I had anything to say about it.
“Miss?”
Startled, I jerked away from the window through which I’d been viewing the promised land to discover I had yet to step into the fantasy. In lieu of my golden carriage, I was sitting in the backseat of a very ordinary sedan. And instead of a fairy godmother granting my every wish, a rather rumpled man was glowering at me.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“Only about a dozen times,” the driver sniped, shaking his head. “I asked if you’re planning on getting out of the car or were you just gonna continue to sit there gawking?”
Don’t you know a lady never gawks?
Except if what he’d said about trying to get my attention was true, it appeared this one did. “Getting out,” I declared. I opened my purse and pulled a handful of bills from my wallet. “How much do I owe for this lovely ride?”
“Swipe or tap your card on the screen,” he said, nodding toward the gadget hanging from the headrest in front of me. When I didn’t immediately oblige him, he added, “You don’t sound like you’re from around here. You can read English, right?”
Of course I could read English and several other languages in fact, but I didn’t figure that was important to this guy, so instead of answering his question, I asked one of my own. “You do take cash, right?” Just in case he required some illustrations along with his text, I leaned forward and waved the money in front of his face.
“Most people use credit,” he growled.
“I’m not most people.” I separated two bills, returned the remainder to my purse and dropped the fare over the front seat. “Keep the change.”
Evidently, all it took for his tone to become much more conciliatory was the recognition of the large tip he’d just been gifted. As I reached for the door handle, he said, “Wait. How about a little fatherly advice? You look like a nice girl. Are you positive this is where you want to be? I can take you somewhere a bit more refined.”
Adding him to the long line of personnel who’d tried to hold me back my entire life, I gave him a truth I’d been battling with for what felt like ages. “Ever consider, dearest Daddy, that I might be sick and tired of being the good little girl all the damn time?” Okay, I could be a little snippy myself, but he did accuse me of gawking, and the last person I wanted to hear from right now was yet another saintly father. I opened the door and stepped out, ignoring his glower. Been there, done that, and he could keep the t-shirt, thank you very much!
I suppose I should have been grateful he gave me enough time to get both my feet under me before he pulled away. If the back door wasn’t quite latched, he only had himself to blame. Straightening my purse strap over my shoulder, I looked up at the building. From the outside it appeared to be no more interesting than about a zillion others in this city housing all sorts of mundane inventory. A brief flash of indecision surged through me as the taillights of the Uber disappeared, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the street.
The choruses of “told you so”, “what were you thinking”, and “how are you going to explain this” began to play in my head, but I pushed them away and smiled.
“See, not a single camera in sight!” I shouted, striking all sorts of ridiculous poses before turning full circle.
If what awaited inside the building in front of me was anything like what I imagined, I was pretty sure any stodgy old paparazzi would be so shocked, they’d drop dead of heart failure before depressing the shutter. The opening of the door released a shaft of welcoming light that drew me like a honeybee to a flower.
Or a fly to the spider’s web.
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear ran up my spine at that unwanted voice. As a couple stepped out the door, I left the world I knew behind and took the first steps toward what I prayed would be the oasis I’d been searching for.
CHAPTER 1
Max
At a bark of laughter, I turned from the doorway to look back into the room. Mike was shaking his head and chuckling at something on one of the monitors arrayed before him. Seeing as how he was a rather stoic man, instead of leaving the office, I retraced my steps.
“What’s so funny?”
