by Katee Robert
The Bastard’s Betrayal
A Scandalous Scions Novel
Katee Robert
Trinkets and Tales LLC
Copyright © 2021 by Katee Robert
All rights reserved.
Cover art by By Hang Le
Print ISBN: 978-1-951329-37-2
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Created with Vellum
The Nisha Sharma. This series wouldn’t exist without you!
Contents
Also by Katee Robert
Content Warning
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Glossary
About the Author
Also by Katee Robert
The O’Malley Series
The Marriage Contract
The Wedding Pact
An Indecent Proposal
Forbidden Promises
Undercover Attraction
The Bastard’s Bargain
Sabine Valley
Abel
Broderick
The Bloodline Vampires
Sacrifice
Heir
Queen
Wicked Villains
Desperate Measures
Learn My Lesson
A Worthy Opponent
The Beast
The Sea Witch
Queen Takes Rose
A Touch of Taboo
Your Dad Will Do
Gifting Me To His Best Friend
My Dad’s Best Friend
Seducing My Guardian
The Groom, The Maid of Honor, and The Runaway Bride
Twisted Hearts
Theirs for the Night
Forever Theirs
Theirs Ever After
His Forbidden Desire
Her Rival’s Touch
His Tormented Heart
Her Vengeful Embrace
The Kings Series
The Last King
The Fearless King
The Hidden Sins Series
The Devil’s Daughter
The Hunting Grounds
The Surviving Girls
The Make Me Series
Make Me Want
Make Me Crave
Make Me Yours
Make Me Need
The Hot in Hollywood Series
Ties that Bind
Animal Attraction
Come Undone Series
Wrong Bed, Right Guy
Chasing Mrs. Right
Two Wrongs, One Right
Content Warning
This book contains themes and content which may be upsetting to some readers.
Content warnings include: murder, kidnapping, explicit sex, dubious consent, parental death (drug overdose, historical, off-page).
Author’s Note
This book launches a series I never thought would happen. Back when I wrote the O’Malleys series, it was such a project of love. After being told what I should or shouldn’t write for years, it was the first step I took in writing for joy instead of writing what I “should” write to be marketable. That first chapter of The Marriage Contract, where Callie shot her fiancé dead? It shouldn’t have worked…but it did.
After the O’Malleys series wrapped up, I got a lot of questions about what happened next…to the point where I started a Patreon to write check-ins because so many people requested more content featuring this family. I never intended to do a second-generation series, but those Patreon check-ins slowly built out the world of happily-ever-after for my six original couples, and it got the wheels turning.
Thanks to a few friends (looking at you, Nisha Sharma and Andie J Christopher!) brainstorming with me and those check-ins, this series was born.
For those of you who haven’t read the O’Malley series, you absolutely do not need to in order to enjoy this book. It takes place approximately thirty years after the end of that series, and while you’ll see the original couples periodically, this series stands on its own.
If you’d like more background on the original series and characters, you can find a glossary at the end of the book.
Happy reading!
XO,
Katee
Chapter 1
Rose Romanov was in trouble.
She’d known it from the moment she got the summons from her parents. And it was a summons. She stared at the closed study door and tried to calm her racing heart. For twenty-seven years, she’d been the perfect daughter. Sure, there was some teenage rebellion shit, but she wasn’t a saint. No one expected her to be a saint.
More like the exact opposite.
Which was fine. As the heir to the branch of the Romanov empire in New York, she’d long ago made her peace with the path set out before her. It was better than the fate of most women in mafia families. Her father was something of a Renaissance man when it came to that. He’d fought the other Romanovs to protect her position, and she’d never once done anything to make him regret the decision.
Until Jackson.
Even now, even knowing she was about to suffer through a lecture at least, if not a flat-out ultimatum, she couldn’t help smiling. Jackson was her one rebellion, the moment a few months ago when she’d turned left instead of right and thrown everything into the current tailspin. He was just a guy, a normal guy who didn’t know who her parents were or what role they played in the NYC underworld. He just saw Rose, the woman, instead of Rose, the mafia princess.
She’d fight to keep that. Even if she had to fight her parents.
Things with him were never supposed to get to this point. When she’d seen him across the bar for the first time, all golden good looks and roguish charm, she’d only been looking for a night of pleasure. He’d given her that. But one night became two, became a few months. When she met him, she’d never expected him to provide her with a safe space outside of all her family shit. She loved her family. She did. But it was really nice to date someone who just saw Rose the person, rather than Rose Romanov, heir to the New York Romanov empire. Sure, she couldn’t be an unedited version of herself with Jackson, but she valued their time together.
Truth be told, she’d expected this conversation with her parents before now, but Mama and Papa were both patient hunters. They were willing to play the long game, and they had to be operating under the assumption that Rose knew Jackson couldn’t be endgame. And…they were right.
It didn’t matt
er how nice it was to hang out with him for lazy afternoons when she could sneak away. Or that he seemed so heavily invested in her opinions on everything from the most mundane to the big, serious topics. Or that they shared a surprising intimacy she’d never felt with another person.
Jackson wasn’t in the life, which meant her relationship was doomed the moment it began. She wasn’t willing to drag him down into the dark with her. She just thought she’d have more time. It had only been a few months. Surely after a lifetime of mostly good behavior, she was allowed more time with this man?
She took one last fortifying breath and opened the door to their shared study. Stepping inside sent a wave of home through her. She’d spent countless hours in this room. Her first memories were of playing on the floor with Papa, him sitting oh so seriously and listening to her babble on about whatever her favorite cartoon of the week was. He never lost patience or got distracted. Papa always acted like every word out of her mouth was priceless, at least when she was a child.
He’d learned a thing or two since then.
Her parents were on the other side of the massive desk, their expressions carefully blank. Another sign she was in trouble. Rose took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This wasn’t the first difficult conversation she’d had with them, and it wouldn’t be the last. Staying calm and in control was vital when dealing with her parents. “Papa. Mama.”
Her father, Dmitri Romanov, terror of the city and most of the Eastern Seaboard, sat in his chair with his hands steepled before his face. With some men, the years faded them, made them more approachable. Not so with her father. His features had only gotten sharper, and his hair might be leaning more silver than black, but it was still thick. He was also wearing a suit at eight in the morning on a Sunday, which gave her pause.
Was something else going on? Surely a family discussion about her boyfriend didn’t require such formality?
She turned her attention to her mother, who was perched on the arm of Papa’s chair. Keira Romanov had always been petite like Rose and her sister Anya, but where time had sharpened her father, it had softened her mother. She wasn’t one of those women in her fifties who wanted the body of someone in their twenties, and it resulted in very good hugs. Her hair—always dyed a perfect warm brown—fell around her face and shoulders in carefully created waves. She wasn’t wearing the normal lazy Sunday clothing either; she had on one of her red dresses.
Red dresses meant trouble.
Rose considered sitting, but she didn’t like this. Not one bit. “What’s going on?”
“Shut the door.” Papa spoke curtly.
Oh shit. She quickly obeyed. “Is there trouble?” The Romanovs had been at peace for as long as she’d been alive. She’d heard stories of how Papa had almost gone to war with Mama’s family, but once they were married and eliminated the single threat within the city, things had settled down. There were skirmishes—there were always skirmishes—but if she’d learned anything, it was that things could change on a dime. It only took some new group to come into town and decide to start throwing their weight around.
“Sit down, Rose.” Mama was speaking Russian, which sent alarm bells ringing. When it came to business, she only switched to Russian when she was very, very serious.
Rose slowly sank into one of the two chairs across from the desk. “You’re scaring me.”
Mama sighed. “You’ve done a foolish thing, daughter. You should be scared.” She glanced at Papa. When Rose was little, it seemed magical how they could have entire conversations without saying a single word. Now, she recognized it as thirty years of shared life together. She couldn’t help a little twinge of envy at the thought.
She wanted that. Someday. With the right person.
Papa gave a sigh of his own. “We give you a significant amount of freedom. Too much, apparently.”
That had her straightening. “Excuse me? I’m twenty-seven. I do everything you ask of me and more. I deserve what little freedom I have.”
“Da.” He glanced at her mother.
Mama picked up a tablet from the desk. “We know you’ve been slumming it with some civilian, and we allowed it because, as you said, you do everything we ask and more. You’re a good daughter and an asset.”
Rose tensed. “I’m sensing a but coming, and it feels like a doozy.”
“This is the boy you’ve been playing with for the past few months, da?” Mama flipped the tablet around. On the screen was a picture of Jackson. He wore a white T-shirt and faded pair of jeans. The same thing he had on during their most recent date. He’d brought her flowers, just like he did on every date, even though it’d been months and she had a toothbrush at his apartment. Roses for his Rose. Jackson was a dork, but she liked it. She liked him.
Rose’s breath stilled in her lungs as she realized the implications of this photo. “You had me followed.”
“You slipped your detail. Again. It’s our job to ensure you’re safe.” Papa’s gray eyes were cold, cold, cold. That, in and of itself, was a warning she couldn’t afford to ignore. He only ever looked like that before violence occurred.
Oh, Papa would never touch her or her sisters or Mama, but the same couldn’t be said for anyone he considered a threat. Anya got the same look right before she slipped into the night to commit acts that would give a normal person nightmares. Anything to ensure the safety of their family, the security of their territory.
Rose’s hands weren’t lily white, either.
That didn’t mean she was going to roll over for her parents right now. She couldn’t pretend they didn’t get a say when it came to who she eventually settled down with, but right now she was just having fun. She was very careful to avoid ending up pregnant, and that’s the only thing they needed to worry about. “This isn’t your business.”
“Wrong.” Mama flicked a finger across the screen, scrolling to a new picture.
Rose leaned forward, frowning. A different picture of Jackson, but he didn’t look like Jackson in it. He had the same athletic build, and his golden hair was shorter than it was now and slicked back. Without his hipster beard, he was almost too pretty. Too flawless. He also wore a perfectly tailored suit that her practiced eye told her cost a small fortune. Way more than some college-dropout bartender should be able to afford. Still, it was undeniably him. “Where did you get this?”
“This man? His name isn’t Jackson.” Mama hesitated and looked at Papa. “Rose…”
She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. Her parents didn’t hesitate, and they didn’t beat around the bush. “Say it.” No matter what they weren’t telling her, better to know and deal with it than to be left hanging. “Just say it.”
Papa was the one who finally spoke. “The man you’ve been sneaking off with, the one whose apartment you spent the night in last night. His name isn’t Jackson Smith. It’s Dante Verducci.”
The room took a sickening spin around her. She knew that last name, if only in theory. As heir, it was her job to keep her finger to the pulse of not just New York but the other cities where her Romanov cousins held power. They were powerful because they were stronger together, creating a network that spanned a good portion of the US coastline. But their enemies were just names to be memorized, especially Kirill and Sasha’s since they were in Los Angeles and Seattle, respectively.
“Verducci,” she said slowly. “As in the Verducci clan in LA.” They’d given her uncle Kirill—well, Kirill was technically Papa’s cousin, but they called him uncle—a lot of trouble over the last couple decades. “That’s impossible. Lorenzo Verducci only has one son. This isn’t him.”
“Dante Verducci is his nephew, the son of his late sister. She was out of the life for a bit, which is why we don’t have a complete file on him.”
“Impossible.” She didn’t know why she was arguing. Her parents wouldn’t have come to her with this if they weren’t sure they were right, but no matter which way she looked at this information, it didn’t make sense. “One, the Ca
pparelli family would skin him alive if they knew he was in New York. They’re the only Italian game in town, and we have a hard enough time keeping them under control. They’re not going to let another family poach on their territory. Two, it doesn’t make any kind of logistical sense for Dante Verducci to be here, across the country from his territory.”
“Rose.”
She wasn’t finished. “Three, I am dating Jackson Smith. He’s a nice guy who was raised upstate, came to the city to pursue a degree at NYU, wandered off before he graduated, and has a very mundane, very non-criminal life as a bartender with a shitty apartment in Brooklyn. There is no way that guy is part of the Verducci family. He’s too…” Caring. Sweet. Safe. “Unless he’s in hiding or something?”
“Rose… He’s not in hiding,” Mama said.
Papa shook his head sharply. “You were duped.”
“Impossible.” What she and Jackson had? It was real. It felt real. He’d shared so much about his life. His sorrow about his dead mother. His conflict-filled relationship with his uncle… “Oh shit,” she whispered. Rose fought not to wrap her arms around herself. He’d peppered in real parts of his history, just enough to make the lie work.
She’d given him her heart, and it was all a lie.
