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Her gaze snaps to mine. She knows I have a son. I was upfront when we met, but she’s always been scared that he’ll think she’s trying to take his mother’s place. Frankly, I think he’d be happy with a woman he can talk to other than my ex-wife.
Hilary is nothing more than a goddamned alcoholic. But then again, I feel responsible for pushing her down that path. I wasn’t the perfect husband, but she was never the woman I should’ve married.
“I look forward to meeting him,” Maisy tells me eagerly, and I can tell she’s not just saying that, because the truth is right there in her sky-blue gaze. She settles herself against me, handing me the tumbler before twining her arms around my neck.
I feel myself respond to her softness and warmth, but I don’t take her. Not tonight. There’s a war waging inside me, and it’s best I not do anything to hurt her. Violence runs rampant in my bones, deep to the very marrow of my being.
That’s where my son and I are different. We’re polar opposites, always have been. Silence hangs in the air between us, and I’m waiting for her to bring up a baby. Every time I’ve ever spoken about Etienne, she’s asked about us having a child of our own.
But that’s one thing I vowed to never do again. I can’t have another child because the moment I do, he or she will belong to the Sovereign, and I can’t take a chance that the child will turn out like me.
Closing my eyes, I inhale Maisy’s perfume before I set the glass down and scoop her up. Making my way out of the office, I carry her to our bed and set her down on the mattress.
“Sleep,” I tell her, and without debate, her eyes flutter closed. If only she knew that love is nothing more than a volatile emotion. It burns and rages inside you until there’s nothing left and you’re a slave to it.
Now all I have to do is convince my son to go back to Tynewood and hope the secrets I swore to keep when I walked out stay buried.
But secrets have a way of escaping, no matter how deep you hide them.
1
Etienne
Two weeks earlier
Rolling over on the plush mattress, I focus on the geometrical patterns in the ceiling that loom over me. The alarm clock glares at me with bright red numbers, informing me that it’s not even six yet. I should get up, but I don’t feel like moving. Last night, I ordered room service and drank a bottle of Jack on my own. Thankfully, the Brits have my poison fully stocked in the hotel.
Even though there’s an apartment in the city I can crash at, I don’t because I need quiet. And staying with Dad is not an option. I hate being around people when I’m anxious. It only makes it worse. I can’t concentrate; I can’t focus, and right now, I need to find out where my girl is. I already consider her mine because I laid claim to her when Ares and I first saw her and her friend Dahlia.
I scoot onto my side, glancing over to the window. It’s still somewhat dark, and I already hate that I’m here in winter. I remember visiting as a kid, my dad bringing me to the city and telling me how exciting it is because London is full of history.
At the time, I wasn’t overly impressed with London and all it had to offer. My best friends were back in the US, and all I wanted to do was spend time with them, learning about the secrets that Ares’s dad hid in his library.
We found books about secret societies and reading those made me antsy, wondering if I’d ever get to become one of the important men in the country. I wanted to be someone, a hero of sorts. And I knew the only way was to have the strength of my brotherhood behind me.
These groups were dangerous, that much I knew. They had too much power, and when men have iron fists, ruling over those they perceive as lowly, is never a good thing.
At the time, we were sixteen and thought the world revolved around us. We made plans about what we would do if we ever joined the Gilded Sovereign, a society that our fathers attempted to hide from us, but they had let a few things slip through the cracks.
Instead of being assholes like our dads were, we were going to get all the girls. Build a harem and drink all the whiskey we could while playing X-Box. A chuckle vibrates in my chest at the thought. We were so goddamned innocent back then, thinking that being a Crown was an honor. Now, though, we know what it entails—violence, bloodshed, and power—all which Abner used to hurt innocent people.
