A Cursed Throne by D.M. Simmons
Chapter 2
Nev
I dip my tea bag in and out of the cup of hot water in front of me, as the memory of last night plays in my mind.
It had been three years since I last saw Declan, and he still drew a fierce reaction. Of course, what I felt now was anger, compared to the heartache I’d felt then. Still, there was no denying seeing him again got to me.
“So,” Lillian pushes a jar of honey across the counter and smiles at me warmly. “How was your first night back?”
Between my flight home, spending half the day watching movers shuttle boxes between the elevator and my room, then getting ready for my night out, yesterday had been such a busy day, I’d barely seen Lillian. Now that it was just the two of us, however, we were taking advantage of the quiet and catching up over a cup of tea–a white rose, vanilla blend that was only available at a small tea shop in Paris, and my favorite.
“Well,” I reach for the jar, not sure how to answer the simple question. “It was fine I guess.”
She fingers the saucer under her cup and looks at me, sky-blue eyes cool, but inquisitive. “Just fine?”
Okay. So it wasn’t fine. But it was the only word I was willing to use.
The truth was last night had been confusing, and I didn’t like that. Confusion could lead to leniency, which could lead to reconciliation, and if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that I would never forgive Declan, Luca, or Kai for what they did to me.
That was why I went to Styx in the first place. I needed to see them, so I was prepared for the moment the four of us crossed paths again. I knew I couldn’t avoid them forever, but I didn’t want the first time they saw me to be the first time I saw them.
The idea had been a good one. Go to their club, see them again, and make sure there were no residual soft spots. But then I saw Declan and the control I’d been channeling began to waver.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. He looked taller, and his build was stronger. But when he shot the bartender his trademark sexy grin, I knew it was him, and my cheeks flushed with heat.
Twenty-four-year-old Declan was even more beautiful than the twenty-one-year-old version of him had been, and while his striking good looks were hard to ignore, they also irritated me.
Part of me hoped he’d been so miserable when I left, he turned into a broken version of himself. Not a man whose beauty, even from across the room, rivaled that of the gods from the stories in his mother’s Greek heritage.
“It was a low-key evening,” I say casually, wrapping the string of the tea bag around the sachet, and squeezing tight.
“Well,” Lillian sets her cup back down. “I say, no night is ever wasted. Nothing special could lead to something more. You never know.”
“It was nothing,” I look at her and smile. “Trust me. This weekend, the real celebration begins.”
To welcome me home, my parents were throwing a party at our place in the country this weekend, and I’d been looking forward to it.
I loved it there. My father bought the property when I was a baby, and I’d spent a lot of time there over the years. It was one of my favorite places to be, especially because it was home to my beloved Beauty.
Riding had been a big part of my life once, but when I left London, I put that on the shelf, along with the trophies I’d won. Now that I was back, however, I planned to spend as much time in the country as I could. Leaving her had been the hardest part about moving away, and I had a lot of missed time to make up for.
“It’s going to be quite the weekend,” Lillian smiles. “Speaking of,” she reaches for her tea and takes another sip. “Are you ready for all of what being back will mean?”
Lillian was my father’s attendant and had been with him for centuries. She knew all about our world and was loyal and loved me and my parents.
After she helped deliver me, they honored her by giving me the middle name, Lillian, and it connected us. She was my friend and confidant and always knew how I felt about the responsibility of my destiny and what it may one day ask of me.
I lift my cup and look at her over the rim with certainty, answering in a way I never had before. “I’m ready.”
“Well,” she reaches across the counter and grabs my hand. “I’m proud of you, and I know your father is, too. You don’t know how excited he is to have you back home and working by his side.”
While leaving London after graduating from Locksley may have been motivated by a combination of factors–my need to get away from this world, its expectations, and the three friends that betrayed me being the biggest–it was a job at my father’s company, Primordial, which was the biggest driver, and coincidentally, the reason for my return.
For the last two years I’d been working as a due diligence officer in the company’s offices in Paris. I loved the work and had a knack for it, just as my father. But when a spot opened up here, and he offered me the job, I couldn’t refuse. It was an honor to be asked, and I loved being a part of the empire he’d built, and one day, hoped to run.
“Are he and mom still nauseating?” I tap my finger on the side of my cup, giving her a wry smile.. “I swear, the last time they visited me they were like newlyweds.”
“Still, and always,” Lillian reaches for my chin and gives it a squeeze. “And you too, will find that kind of love one day, and you won’t think of it as nauseating, but thrilling.”
“If you say so,” I can’t help but laugh. Lillian was the eternal optimist when it came to my future. Even if I wasn’t, I loved her for it.
“Do not tell me you have had no suitors, mon chéri?”
“Suitors?” I shake my head. “No. Lovers on the other hand…”
Lillian blushes and I laugh as she pulls back to look down the hall, then straightens. “Do not let your father hear you.”
“Oh come on,” I roll my eyes. “With the security detail he and mom have on me, I’m sure he is well-aware of my social life.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Lillian arches her brow. “Your mother respects your privacy, and your father respects her.”
“That’s putting it mildly, don’t you think?” My father worshiped the air my mother breathed and would do anything for her.
Still, I’m curious how much they knew about my life in Paris. “So, my mother has kept my father blissfully oblivious to how I spent my time there?”
“Ignorance is bliss,” Lillian winks. “Besides, fathers never want to see their daughters as women. You will forever be that baby that changed his world.”
“And my mother?” I ask, curious what she may have said to Lillian about my life in Paris.
“She sees you as the strong, capable young woman you are.”
Lillian’s response surprises me and I sit back. “Is that right?”
“It is,” she peers at me with her charcoal-lined eyes. “And I too, believe as she does. You are destined for greatness and love, so do not give up on either.”
I had no plans for love, but greatness on the other hand…I was ready for it.
When we’re done with tea, I push back from the counter and put my cup in the sink. “Well,” I stretch my arms overhead. “I’m going to head back upstairs. There are dozens of boxes that need to be unpacked. Do you want to grab lunch later?”
“Sure,” she smiles. “That will be lovely. Here, or out?”
“Let’s go out. I have a few things I need to grab before the weekend, and I need my favorite shopping companion with me.”
“Okay,” she smiles brightly. “See you at noon?”
“Perfect.” I lean over and kiss her once on each cheek. “Au revoir. À plus tard.”
“Au revoir,” she calls back as I make my way down the hall.
I’m about to head up the stairs when the distinct sound of papers rustling in the study stops me in my tracks. I walk backwards until I reach the door, then stop and turn, finding my father sitting behind his desk, and Wills, our other attendant, standing next to him.
“There really is no rest for the wicked, is there?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
My father looks up from the papers he’s signing, sets his pen down, and pushes back from the desk.
“Wills,” he smiles. “We can continue this later, yeah?”
“Of course,” Wills nods and tucks a stack of folders against his chest and makes his way to the door, tipping me an imaginary hat as he passes.
I laugh and watch as he leaves, as my father strides over to me with his arms open.
“How was your night?” he asks happily, pulling me into a hug.
“Uneventful. Lillian has the full report.”
“Oh yeah?” he laughs, and steps back. “And why is that?”
“Didn’t you know… everything pales compared to Paris.”
“Well that,” he smiles wider. “I can understand. Paris is a city unlike any other.”
“It is,” I agree. “But Napoleon’s Paris is much different than the one of today.”
My father had regaled me with stories of the world’s greatest cities since I was a kid. Tales from long ago, when he and my Uncle Vinny roamed the streets, looking for trouble.
“That is true,” he agrees. “But I hope this doesn’t mean you’re having second thoughts.”
“No way,” I shake my head. “I’m anxious to get started.”
“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that princess.”
Only one other person had ever called me princess, and when he said it, I always felt …well, different than when my father said it, that’s for sure.
“Where’s the queen?” I ask, pushing that thought, right out of my mind. I could go one morning without thinking about them. Well, him, rather.
My father shoves a hand in his pocket. “She’s at the office. Your mother acquired a new bookstore chain and it’s been keeping her occupied.”
When I said my mother was a legend, I wasn’t kidding. As if being a queen wasn’t enough, she also had her own division at Primordial, which catered to the arts and her passion–books.
With the company’s headquarters in the same building as our penthouse, my parents divided their time between home, and downstairs. It’s why I was surprised to see my father here now. I’d only seen him for a bit yesterday after I arrived, then he went back downstairs to work on a project that was keeping him busy.
“Vanquishing the devil and entrepreneur,” I cross my arms. “How can anyone compare?”
“They can’t,” my father smiles. “But you, my daughter, are a marvel all your own, and compare to no one.”
“Well,” I beam with his praise. “I am my father’s daughter.”
“Yes, you are,” he says proudly.
I look over his shoulder and nod at the stack of folders on his desk. “Is that the reason you are here instead of downstairs?”
“No,” he follows my gaze and lets out a tired breath. “Just some stuff I want to get done before taking the rest of the week off. Speaking of,” he turns back to me. “Are you ready for the weekend?”
“Can’t wait,” I smile wide. “It will be good to see everyone.”
“Everyone?” he repeats, arching a brow.
“Sure,” I shrug. “It will be good to spend time with Uncle Vinny, Aunt Lila, and the others.”
“And the guys?” he asks casually. “Will it be good to see them, or no?”
I draw in a sharp breath, not expecting the question. “If they come, that’s fine.”
He takes in my response, studying me. “You know,” he says slowly. “Maybe it’s time to—”
I put up my hand and cut off whatever he was about to say. I knew my father was aware of the change in my friendship with Declan, Luca, and Kai. It was hard not to, considering we had once been inseparable. But he’d never said much to me about it.
Between his friendship with Luca and Kai’s fathers, and Declan, the boy he raised, I knew my father was in a tough spot. I didn’t ask him to pick a side or weigh in on what happened. For all he knew, we grew apart.
“The past is in the past,” I tuck my hand back under my arm. “Let’s leave it there.”
He looks at me and tilts his head. “Have I ever told you—”
“That I remind you of mom?” I cut him off a second time. “Yes, all the time.”
“No,” he shakes his head. “How much you remind me of myself.”
I straightened, surprised by the comment. “I do?”
“Sure,” he nods. “You’re smart, and driven, and won’t take no for an answer. But I’d hate to see you waste thousands of years on a pointless emotion like I once did.”
“Meaning?” I press, although I know exactly where he’s going with the thought.
“Meaning…don’t let anger dictate your happiness. I did for far too long, and it made for a miserable existence.”
“I’m not letting anger dictate anything,” I say a little too quickly.
He studies me, and his eyes turn a little sad. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Things are great. I’m taking on a new role at Primordial. I have a great friend I adore. And I’m back, and ready to do whatever it takes to understand the powers I was born with and this great destiny that awaits me. Things are great.”
“Wow,” he grins. “Three greats in one breath. Things really must be…great.”
I press my lips together and give him an unimpressed smirk. “But things won’t be great,” I emphasize it for a fourth time, and he shakes his head, “if I don’t get to unpacking before we leave for the country. So,” I point over my shoulder, “I’m going to head upstairs.”
“Okay,” he nods. “Will you be here for dinner tonight?”
“Yup,” I nod. “No plans.”
“Perfect,” he smiles. “I’ll make spaghetti Bolognese.”
“My favorite,” I lean in and kiss him on the cheek.
“I know.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my forehead, then steps back, and watches as I make my way out of the study, and up the stairs.
When I get to my room, I close the door and sink down onto the bed. Reaching for my bag, I dig around inside, pulling out last month’s issue of SCENE. Flipping through it irritably, I skim page after page of glossy ads and puff pieces, until I find what I’m looking for.
Stopping abruptly, I stare down at the article titled, The Bachelors of Bond Street, and when my eyes drift further down the page, I see the picture that accompanies the article.
The story is about Declan, Kai, and Luca and their club, and the picture is of them. They stand with their arms draped over one another’s shoulders, and don’t appear to have a care in the world.
Reading the piece for the dozenth time, I take note of every detail. Their childhood together and schooling, even their idea for the club, which was a dream among friends. But nowhere is any mention of the friend who also shared that dream–me–and the omission was infuriating.
Throwing the magazine across the room, I push my back against the headboard and tuck my knees close to my chest.
Now I know why I had such an intense reaction to seeing Declan last night. I hadn’t forgotten or forgiven. In fact, I wanted to get even. I wanted to pay back the Bastards of Bond Street, for hurting and discarding me.