Page 8 of Vicious Kingdom

“We could always stay in?” I offered. Our friendship was newer, but ever since our mutual friend—and her sister-in-law—Serena introduced us on a party yacht, we hung out often. While Serena would always be my oldest friend, Penelope was fast becoming an important part of my life.

“Ooh! We could make mixed drinks!” Penelope squealed.

I smiled, pulling off my shoes as I trudged up the stairs. “It’s on!”

After another intense exchange, where she nearly rattled off an entire bar menu of drinks to try making, we ended the call. I stumbled into my room, feeling the weight of the evening roll off my shoulders. Social gatherings could be fun. I enjoyed people-watching. The gossip flowed in proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed. There was always drama to feast upon.

So long as none of it directly concerned me, my brain thrived on the experiences. I studied the minute details, paying close attention to how different people chose to make decisions that had lasting repercussions.

Some of my best characters were pulled straight from the elites of Chicago.

But tonight hadn’t been a case study. It was filled with my own experience. I was glad to be back in the shelter of my room. The books lining the walls seemed to call out in greeting, eager to help me with my own problems. I smiled at them, promising to have a good, long think about how to play my next moves.

My bare foot skidded on the hardwood.

I shot my arms out for balance. There was an envelope on the floor. The slippery bugger acted like a slider, nearly making me do the splits!

Picking it up, I trailed into my closet and sat at the vanity. Hanging from a chain that was turning green and made my skin break out when I wore it, was the huge diamond that made my finger feel like a body builder.

A sigh slipped from my lips.

I told David we would wait to announce our engagement. It was wishful thinking to assume my plots would work so quickly that the news didn’t have to be shared. That I could cut David loose before I told anyone about the man I met in Germany and had dated for the last few months. Dated in the loosest sense of the word. When he was abroad for business, we had dinner. We saw one play. He took me on a tour of a historic church.

That was it.

I flicked the ring with my finger. As it swayed, a pendulum in the background, I tore open the envelope.

There was no return address.

My breath hitched. There was no sender address either.

A sickening rush of cold spread over my limbs. The paper lip slid up, and a notecard fell out.

Welcome home, Pookie Bear.

I’ve missed you.

A slither of dread trickled down my spine. I thought this toxicity would have ended. It had been a half-dozen years or more since the last dose of this torment. I thought the situation would have resolved. That he wasn’t interested in me since I’d grown up.

The ring swayed back and forth—back and forth.

It wasn’t over.

I squeezed my eyes closed, shoved my hands into my hair. “You won’t win,” I snarled.

Anger was the only antidote to the shame. That toxic feeling threatened to swallow me whole if I let it. No one would believe my side of the story. The man who’d hurt me, time and time again, carried a flawless public image. People would call me a liar if I spoke up. The feeling of powerlessness filled me with disgust, but what other option did I have!

But I realized that the letter he’d touched was now touching me. Disgust roiled in my stomach. I shot from my chair, ran to the bathroom, and scrambled to find the lighter I used for candles. I flicked the roller. The metal bit under my nail. A flame sprang to life at my command, and I let it tongue across the edge of the paper. It licked hungrily, consuming the contents with fervor!

They said the best fiction was based on reality.

Well…there was a reason my stuff topped the charts.

Chapter 4 – Annaliese

Islid the shareholders report back into the manila envelope. Curiosity urged me to dig, and I now suspected my father of lying to his boards. Doctoring numbers was all too easy. It would explain how he was able to make such a generous donation to Callahan Voss’s campaign for senator.

Dad was stealing from the company. And no doubt stupid enough to think he could make up for the money once he was in politics.