Tarnished Empire: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

by Ava Harrison

  “That you’re not a monster.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong, dove. I am, and your father made me one.” My mouth opens and shuts because I don’t know what to say to his comment.

  “Then keep me. Don’t do this to George. He doesn’t deserve it.” My words come out as a plea, desperate to save this man my father calls a friend.

  “You don’t have to worry about George,” he retorts in cold sarcasm, and I bite down hard on my lower lip at his blank and empty stare. “He’s not on this boat.”

  By the time I make it back into my stateroom, I can barely control the pain I’m feeling. When the door slams shut behind me, I allow the tears to cascade down my cheeks. I’m all alone here. There’s no one to help me.

  You can help yourself. You aren’t helpless.

  I just have to remember the plan. No more kissing. No more forgetting that Alaric Prince is not a good man.

  He is the villain in this story. He will pay.

  I’ll make him.

  My hand reaches up, and I swipe at the wetness under my eyes.

  Tonight was a misstep. But the plan can still work. I need to play nice. The idea doesn’t sit well in my stomach, but I’m a survivor. There is nothing I can’t do.

  When I was young, cold, and hurt, Michael Lawrence took me in.

  Now it’s my turn to do what I need to for him.

  No matter the consequences.

  I’ll do whatever I have to so I can save him and protect him, even if that means ending my own life.

  14

  Alaric

  We’re getting closer. There’s only another day or so before we will hit port. I know Michael knows we have a guest on our boat. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll try to contact us.

  We are still too far out to make a concrete plan, but as of now, when we call him, we expect the exchange to go smoothly.

  We’ll suggest a simple trade.

  Her for him.

  My men on the island have already secured his guns. The information will spread fast, and he will know I have him exactly where I need him—royally screwed.

  There has never been a moment in the last four years that Michael Lawrence hasn’t had a hit on him. He’s been smart, though. He rarely leaves his compound. When he does, he has an armed guard with him. He’s like me in that way. That’s why seeking my revenge has been unfruitful. But now I have him.

  Now, he’ll be lured out of the hole he’s been hiding in.

  He is a dead man walking the moment the Camerino family finds out they had paid to secure guns, and he has no product.

  Maybe he can figure out a way to get out of this mess and pay back the money. But I have already fucked him there too.

  The money from the deal is gone. I don’t just want revenge for my brother’s death; I want him to suffer for the innocent life he took. That’s where he and I differ; I have never killed someone who hasn’t deserved it. Take George for example, he was plotting against me with Michael, but my brother …

  Michael Lawrence deserves what’s coming to him, and he’s soon going to pay for his crimes against me.

  Without the guns, he has no choice left but to make this easy on himself. Striking a deal with me will have the same result. Him dead. But this way, in the offer I gave him, his precious child will be safe.

  I’ll make the call tonight. But first, I have to find the little minx.

  It’s been hard to keep my distance, even with a boat as large as this is, she’s always there. Always barely dressed.

  It’s as if she’s doing it on purpose, which I wouldn’t put past her, to be honest.

  She knows she is gorgeous, and she is wielding her beauty like a weapon.

  Too bad for her, I appear to be immune. Even if it’s not true, and the idea that I’m not pisses me the fuck off, she’ll never know the truth. She thinks I am, and that’s all that matters.

  My men, on the other hand, aren’t so lucky. She’s been laying it on thick by batting her eyelashes at them.

  But I know my men. I’ve saved them from too many wars to have them turn their back on me.

  That’s the thing a girl like her will never understand. When you lie in the trenches with someone, when you bring them back to life, they owe you a life debt.

  My men owe that to me, and I owe my life to them. There is no coming between us. Not now. Not ever.

  I find her right where I expect her to be, in the scrap of a bathing suit I bought her. I should have thought this through better.

  If she’s going to be flaunting her beauty, I might as well watch as she slathers sunblock on her legs. Legs that go on for days.

  I step forward. Like yesterday, I purposely block out the sunlight, giving her no choice but to stare up at me with a hand covering her face against the glare.

  “What do you want?” she hisses.

  I’m used to the attitude. The sugary sweet voice she has is only ever aimed at my men. No, for me, she reserves the lethal one, a voice dripping with venom.

  “We need to talk.”

  That makes her sit up, and her hand reaches out to grab a towel. She knows what I’m about to say is real, and she doesn’t want to be vulnerable when I do.

  Not naked like she is now.

  Once the towel is wrapped around her body tightly, she looks at me.

  “Speak.”

  “Such an attitude. Have I harmed you in any way to have you talk to me with such disdain?”

  “I’m here—somewhere I don’t want to be—alone. I’m thinking that yes, you have.”

  “But see, that’s where I must have gotten mistaken. You came on my boat. You chose to look around … If anything, this is your fault.”

  Her face turns pale as my words hit her, making her jaw tremble, but she must catch herself because she clenches her teeth to stop the chattering as she faces me head-on.

  “That wasn’t an invitation to move,” she seethes. “I thought you would be docked.”

  I nod. “Yes, you thought you could just sneak into my office and what …? Find your father’s guns? Hate to break it to you, dove, but those guns, they are long gone. And the ones my men just seized? Gone too.”

  Her mouth drops open, her shoulders going rigid at the same time.

  “You-You …”

  “Stole his next shipment.” I beam as I fill in her missing words.

  “But …” She can’t even speak because she is shaking so badly.

  “This was all for nothing. You sneaking on my boat. You looking. I was always one step ahead of you.”

  “Why don’t you just stop and tell me what you want.”

  “Tonight, we call your father.”

  Her eyes go wide. “And say what?”

  “Inform him of the trade I want to make.”

  Her head shakes back and forth, already coming to understand what that means. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  My one-word answers for most would make them shut up. But she’s not most.

  “I will not have you use me as bait.” Before I know what she’s doing, she’s flinging her towel off and running to the railing.

  “Stop!” I shout.

  She’s already jumping by the time I spring into action.

  Everything stands still for a second, an endless second as I’m screaming for my men.

  Running to the end, I see her surface from below. She’s kicking and swimming, but there is no place for her to go. She would rather die than let me use her as bait.

  Too bad I’m not merciful.

  Without another thought, I’m jumping in after her. My body hits the water, and then I’m kicking up to the surface. The water is much rougher, and I can see the fear in her eyes. She wanted to die, but until you look death in the eye, you don’t really know what that means.

  And I wonder if this is it. If this is the way to win.

  Let her die.

  Don’t save her.

  My brother’s words ring in my ear as I kick my legs out to gr
ab her. Her movements are choppy, her strength waning on the onslaught of the battering waves. “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

  She will be a casualty regardless, but this way, if she dies, she won’t have to see the bloodshed.

  I look at her, our eyes catching. She implores me without words to let her go.

  If I was a better man, I would.

  But I’m not.

  15

  Phoenix

  It feels like a weight is pulling me. Heavy. So heavy I can’t breathe.

  I know I need to kick, but I can’t.

  After everything my father—a man who was never supposed to be my father—did for me, I can’t allow myself to be used to hurt him. So I jumped. As much as my lungs scream, I won’t fight.

  I will let the dark abyss have me. Let it seal my fate.

  Darkness comes fast. Followed by what I can only imagine death must feel like.

  Drowning. Drowning.

  Hands reach for me, and a choke breaks through my mouth. My eyes flutter open.

  What the hell happened? The world around me is still blurry, but with each inhale, it comes into focus.

  I’m on the boat.

  “No,” I scream, thrashing my arms, trying to break free. I can’t let him use me to hurt my father. “No!”

  “Shh,” he coos. For some reason, it calms me. It shouldn’t, but it does.

  My breathing regulates, and I take in everything. From my wet bathing suit to the water still clinging to my body, but the big thing I notice is Alaric sitting beside me.

  Wet as well.

  He saved me.

  And in doing so, he’s condemned my father to death.

  His hand reaches out.

  “Don’t.” I push back. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Touch you. I fucking saved you.” His voice would make the arctic melt. There’s a fire I’ve never heard before in his tone. It’s scary, but it also lights me up—something I don’t want to think about.

  “I didn’t ask you to. I didn’t want you to.”

  “What would your death cause? Nothing. Your father will die regardless. His crime is too great not to, but with your death, nothing changes. I’m offering him more. I will pay off his debt for his life, and in turn, you will live. No one will collect his debt off your flesh.”

  The meaning behind his words sinks in. My body shivers at the thought.

  My father owes dangerous men their guns. They would use me. No different from Alaric.

  No. That’s not true. Even though he’s killed, when I look at Alaric, I know he’s not lying. He would never use me like that. Not unwillingly.

  But even though I know it, I can’t help but fire back. “They are taking a play out of your book.”

  A very angry Alaric stands from where he was perched on my seat.

  He paces back and forth then turns to me. “I never hurt you. I never raped you. Do not compare me to those animals.”

  “But you want to kill my only family. My father.” My voice is barely a whisper. I look down to the ground and swallow before meeting his eyes again.

  “I am giving him mercy. I won’t let them harm you. I will take my pound of flesh, and in return, I will guarantee your safety, which is more than he deserves.”

  “Why would you save me?”

  But he doesn’t answer my question. He just stalks off, leaving me with his men.

  I look up at the one called Cristian. His right hand. “Aren’t you going to chase after him?”

  “You should count yourself lucky that he is fair. If it was up to me, I would let you both die.” And with that, he stalks off too. One thing is abundantly clear. I can’t die. Jumping is not an option.

  No matter what, my father’s fate has been written if I die, but if I live … if I fight, if I get the chance to warn him …

  Yes, maybe there’s still hope. Tonight, we call my father. I can warn him tonight. Tell him our location, something, anything, and it will all be okay.

  It’s hard to keep myself busy and entertained. The truth is, I’m nervous. Another truth: I’m disappointed with myself. In the end, no matter how hard I try, I keep messing up.

  I only have one more way to deal with this.

  As soon as Alaric and his men are confident I won’t fling myself off the boat again, I’m allowed to head back down to my stateroom.

  I refuse to give them the satisfaction of losing my shit, so I catch my breath, throw up my walls and pretend not to care.

  It works.

  They know I am no longer a threat.

  That I’m safe and will play their game.

  Once I get out of the shower, I go to look for Alaric. I want to see if I can pinpoint our location.

  Anything to help tip off my father. I find him on the bridge.

  He’s sitting at a small table with Cristian.

  I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a map that will tell me where we are going. But since that’s not the case, I plop down in the chair next to him and lean forward until my elbows rest on the cold metal of the table.

  “Since I have nothing better to do …”

  “You might as well annoy me?” Alaric finishes for me.

  “Exactly.” I can hear the groan emanating from Cristian’s mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. “Where are we going?”

  “Caracas.”

  The little composure I’ve held since the other night when I lost it is starting to evaporate when he tells me the location. What concerns me isn’t the distance, I haven’t been back to South America since my parents died.

  A strange feeling worms its way into my soul, like this trip will be the end for me. I was ready to jump, but now that I know what’s in store for my father, regardless of my life, I can’t give up without a fight.

  “Why there?” I ask with as little emotions as possible, trying my best not to give anything away.

  “So many questions.”

  “I don’t understand what the secrets are all about. There’s nothing I can do. I’m stuck on this boat. I haven’t seen another boat. It’s not like I have magical powers where I can mentally tell him your plan.”

  Alaric’s brows pinch, and he leans forward. “Very well,” he says before standing and walking to a desk in the corner.

  He comes back a second later. This time, a map is in his hands. He must not think I’m a threat at all if he’s prepared to show me the location. The thought is sobering, but I don’t allow myself to get burdened by it. Instead, I welcome any information I can get. I’m not good at maps or at least nautical maps, so I cut my head to the side and then look up into his crystal blues.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask.

  “You see this island over here?”

  His long arm stretches across the map.

  “We are about seventy nautical miles from it.”

  His lips tip up into a wicked smile.

  “Basically, what you’re trying to say is had I swum, I would’ve died because there’s no place to go.”

  “Yes, basically.”

  “And where are we headed?” I asked.

  “Right here.” I look back to where the map is and where his finger sits. Between the two points—where we are now and where we need to go—there is vast blue, so at least a day at sea.

  I do notice a sprinkling of islands, and he must catch me.

  “You won’t find any help there. And again, it’s too far to swim. Most of those islands are uninhabitable.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know everything about the ocean.”

  I wonder how much of that is true. Does he really know everything? It would appear so, since he lives on this boat, spending his time going from port to port. I imagine it’s so he can transport guns under the radar—a small private yacht under the guise of being some sort of rich playboy. I wonder if he pays off the government at each location.

  “So now that you’ve told me where we are and where we’re going, why don’t you just tell me
what your actual plan is?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I think it’s only fair for you to tell me if I am to be used as bait.”

  “Here’s the thing you need to learn: life is not fair. You’ll be granted life, but unfortunately, to do so, I must take your father’s. He wronged me. There is always a price to pay. Now, it’s his turn, and no, I won’t give you leverage to try to stop that.”

  His words feel like tiny shards of glass cutting me. Even though I knew this was the case, it still hurts to know he wants to use me to kill my father, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Maybe I can try to convince him that my father played no part in his brother’s death. I’ve been working to try to stop his plan, but maybe I just need to talk to him.

  “Talk to me. Maybe I can help mend this—”

  “That is between him and me.”

  I slam my hands down on the table. “That’s horseshit, and you know it. You want to kill him because you think he murdered your brother. He didn’t.”

  “You don’t know shit. You think this is your war, but this started when you were still ignorant, nestled in your private school. Let the adults handle matters. This is no game for a little girl.”

  “Little girl? I’m twenty-two.”

  He moves closer to me, his hand reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from my forehead.

  “Still just a little dove. Not strong enough to fly.”

  “And how old are you?” I sneer.

  “Thirty-four.”

  With that, he stands and walks out the door, leaving me with the map and nothing more.

  This afternoon was a complete waste of time.

  I found out nothing.

  He took my father’s shipment. Not once but twice. The men who paid my father still don’t have the guns, and Alaric did something with the money, making it impossible for my father to even pay them back. This shipment, the one Alaric has intercepted, was a shipment of goodwill, coming out of my father’s pocket. Yet again, it was taken.

  Nothing I can say will change the fact that there are two prices on my father’s head. The question is which one is worse.

  Will my father come willingly to the slaughter in order to save me? Maybe there is still hope. Maybe the guns are on the boat, and maybe my father’s men can take the boat, kill my captor, and everything will be okay.