Enchanted
THE ROGUES SERIES BOOK 4
Tracie Delaney
Copyright © 2020 Tracie Delaney
Edited by StudioEnp
Proofreading by Katie Schmahl, Jean Bachen,
and Jacqueline Beard
Cover art by Tiffany @TEBlack Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in uniform or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Title
Introduction
A note to the reader
Books by Tracie Delaney
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
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Enthralled
Winning Ace
Books by Tracie Delaney
Newsletter Sign Up
Acknowledgments
About Tracie Delaney
Wanted: Companion for reclusive billionaire. Apply online now.
It should be so easy. A twelve month contract with a fat bonus at the end—providing I don’t quit.
Except when something looks too good to be true, it usually is.
Little did I know how interwoven my life is with his.
Saving him might cure my own crushing guilt.
Or it could break us both.
The question is—am I brave enough to find out?
A note to the reader
Dear Reader,
Wow, look at us! Here we are at book 4 in this series already. Can you believe it? The time is going so fast and as much as I love getting these books into your hands, especially given the amazing feedback I’ve had on this entire series, I can sense the end approaching—only two more to go—and I’m sad. These ROGUES are like family to me, and I adore spending time with them.
None more so than Upton and Belle. Their story is both heartbreaking and uplifting. It shows just how indomitable the human spirit is, and that, no matter how difficult life seems right now, there is always light and hope around the corner. One of the reasons I adore both writing and reading romance is knowing that however bumpy the journey, I’m going to get a happy ending.
I hope you enjoy reading Upton and Belle’s story. I’d love to hear what you think about Enchanted once you’re finished reading, either by leaving a review, or by joining my Facebook reader group Tracie’s Racy Aces. Can’t wait to chat to you over there.
In the meantime, dive in. Enjoy every moment. Upton and Belle are waiting.
Happy reading.
Love,
Tracie
Psst… if Facebook isn’t your jam, then you might want to consider joining my newsletter. There’s a free book on offer as a thank you for signing up. Hope to see you there.
Books by Tracie Delaney
The Winning Ace Series
Ace - A Winning Ace Novella
Winning Ace
Losing Game
Grand Slam
Winning Ace Boxset
Mismatch
Break Point - A Winning Ace Novella
The Brook Brothers Series
The Blame Game
Against All Odds
His To Protect
Web of Lies
The Brook Brothers Complete Boxset
Irresistibly Mine Series
Tempting Christa
Avenging Christa
Full Velocity Series
Friction
Gridlock
Inside Track
Full Velocity Boxset (Books 1-3)
ROGUES Series
Entranced
Enraptured
Entrapped
Enchanted
Enthralled
Enticed
Stand-alone
My Gift To You
Draven
1
Upton
“Upton, come on!”
Jenna almost wrenched my arm out of its socket as she hauled me through the crowd. “We have to get right to the front.”
Her best friend, Verity, grabbed my other arm. “Better do as the birthday girl says, big brother.”
I rolled my eyes but let them both pull me along. I pretended their teenage enthusiasm irritated me, but in reality, I’d do anything for my kid sister, and seeing her excitement brought me so much joy. I was brought up an only child. My mother died shortly after my eleventh birthday, and a year later, my dad remarried. Two years after that, Jenna arrived on the scene. She might only be my half sister, but I couldn’t love her more.
My stepmother, Jenice, on the other hand… was a different prospect. We got along, but I’d always gotten the sense that she resented me, so I did my best to avoid her as much as possible.
Today was a milestone in Jenna’s life, her sixteenth birthday, and she’d begged me for tickets to see Savage Groove, a rock band born and bred right here in Los Angeles, who were ending their hugely successful world tour in their hometown.
The concert hadn’t even begun, and already the venue smelled of sweat and pot, but Jenna was at that age where those things didn’t bother her in the slightest. Her life stretched out in front of her, full of endless possibilities. I’d decided to take a few weeks off from ROGUES—the global multi-billion-dollar business I co-founded and ran with my five best friends—this summer to spend as much time with her as I could. In August, she’d enter her junior year at high school—a crucial time in her education—and two brief years later, she’d head off to college, and I’d barely see her. Time had passed so fast. It seemed like only yesterday she was still in diapers.
The nearer we got to the front, the more the crowd closed in, pushing and jostling. About ten feet from the stage, the wall of people in front of us made it impossible to get any closer.
“This’ll have to do, Jen,” I said. “You’ve still got a terrific view.”
If I’d had my way, I’d have gotten one of the executive boxes that ringed the stadium, but Jenna wanted to be right at the heart of the action, and I found it hard to refuse her anything. She’d always known how to wind me around her little finger.
“I suppose,” she said. And then she clutched Verity, almost squeezing the life out of her. “This is so exciting. I can’t wait for them to come on stage. Thanks so much for bringing me, bruv. You’re the best.”
I admit, I could be more than a little over-protective when it came to my sister. There were lots of teenagers here who’d come alone, but I preferred to keep her close, to protect her as much as I could, and concerts like this were too full of young men jazzed on drugs and hormones who’d lo
ve nothing more than to cop a feel and assume they’d get away with it in such a tight crowd.
Well, not on my fucking watch, they wouldn’t.
“I have my moments,” I said, grinning at her.
Her reply was lost in the screams that rent the air as the arena fell into darkness. Dry ice floated up toward the ceiling, and multicolored strobe lights flashed, hung from huge gantries above the stage. A heavy bass beat thudded, and the floor beneath our feet vibrated and shook.
The band appeared, and the cries from the audience increased in volume. The two girls jumped up and down, but their squeals of excitement were lost in the surrounding noise. A broad smile edged across my face as I watched her rapt expression as her eyes locked on the lead singer. He grabbed the mike and opened up with the song that’d catapulted them onto the global stage. They weren’t my thing, but their popularity wasn’t in question.
Thirty minutes into the concert, a stagehand brought a stool for the lead singer to sit on. The crowd fell silent. He began to sing a ballad, only him, a guitar, and a piano, a haunting tune about a life lost that gave me pause. I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him to sing something so beautiful. Jenna and Verity had their arms around each other, swaying to the music, their heads almost touching. I stood behind, watching the band and them, a soft smile on my face.
A flash went off to my left.
Bang!
A fireball exploded, and a wave of heat knocked me to the floor.
Screams rang out. Fearful. Confused. Desperate.
The crowd surged. Mayhem and chaos everywhere.
A foot landed on my chest, and I groaned and instinctively curled into a ball.
Blood.
Red.
Everything’s red.
What’s happening?
I tried to sit up. Another heavy boot crushed me back down again.
Jenna!
I clambered to my feet, swaying. My shirt hung in tatters. Pain. Agonizing, tearing, hideous pain. All over. I couldn’t pinpoint it to one particular part of my body. It’s bad. I grabbed on to something. An arm. Leather jacket. I squinted.
“Get off me, man!”
The owner of the jacket shoved at me and then ran. I almost fell over but managed somehow to keep myself upright.
“Jenna,” I yelled, panic sliding into my veins. Smoke filled my eyes and my lungs, and still the screams went on and on.
“Jenna!”
I couldn’t see her or Verity anywhere. I glanced down. All around me, bodies lay strewn, some missing limbs.
So much blood. Nausea crawled into my throat.
What the fuck’s happened?
And then I saw it. A strip of pink. Jenna’s shirt is pink. I stumbled over, falling to my knees. “Jenna.” I pushed hair, matted with blood, off her face. She groaned. “Don’t move,” I ordered. “Help’s coming.”
“Upton.”
Her breathing rasped, her lungs rattling.
“Don’t try to talk. Just stay very still for me, okay?”
Her eyes flickered. “Verity.”
I shook my head. “I can’t see her.”
“Hurts.”
I felt around for her hand, found it, and rammed my eyes shut. “I know, honey. I know. Please, just keep real still for me, okay? Help is coming.”
“I’m scared, Upton. Don’t let me die, please.”
“You’re not going to die.” I brushed another bloody clump of hair off her forehead, but more blood came, splattering her forehead, and then I realized it was coming from me. I pressed a hand to my face, touching a gaping wound in my cheek.
Fuck.
The arena was emptier now, save for the injured and dead lying all around. High-pitched ringing pierced my eardrums. It had to be a bomb. There was no other explanation. God help us. Help my sister. I turned my attention back to Jenna again. When she breathed in, a horrible gurgling sounded in her chest.
“Stay with me, sis. I’m here. Stay with me.”
Sirens blared in the distance, slowly creeping closer. I might’ve blacked out, not sure, but the next thing I remembered was a couple of paramedics loading me onto a stretcher.
“Jenna, my sister. Is she… is she…?”
The female paramedic squeezed my hand. “Let’s just get you to the hospital, okay?”
I coughed, and pain ripped up my back. I cried out, damn near blinded from the agony.
“Here, this should help with the pain.”
A sharp prick jabbed the back of my hand, and my eyes drooped.
A throbbing in my cheek forced me awake. I raised a hand to my face and came into contact with what felt like thick padding. I pressed and hissed through my teeth. Fuck, that hurt.
Dad’s face swam into view, worry mingled with relief swirling in his eyes. “Oh, thank God. You’re awake. How are you feeling, son?”
Confusion made it difficult to think straight. My brain felt as if it’d been stuffed with cotton wool, a fog that meant nothing made any sense.
“What happened?” I muttered. Christ, who’s voice was that? Hoarse, cracked, a horrible rasping sound.
And then, in a flash of horror, the memories came roaring back.
“Jenna,” I whispered, trying to sit up. “Where’s Jenna?”
Dad urged me to lie back down. Silent tears tracked their way down his face. Rivers of them.
I’d only seen my father cry once. At my mother’s funeral.
A vise closed around my chest, and my lungs flattened.
“Just tell me. Where is she?”
Dad shook his head and then shifted his gaze onto the blank wall directly ahead of him.
A pain like no other welled up inside me, filling every space with this awful hollowness, an empty pit of despair. No. Not Jenna. Not my sister. She couldn’t be dead. Her light shone too brightly for it to have been snuffed out as easily as smothering a candle. I never got to tell her one last time how much I loved her, how happy she made me. I’d never get to hug her again, or hear her girlish giggle, or watch her eyes shine with pleasure at the simplest of things.
“It should’ve been me.” A sob crawled into my throat, but I pushed it down. “Not her. Not Jenna.”
Dad wrapped his fingers around my hand. I could feel the warmth on the outside, but inside, I was nothing but ice.
“Don’t say that, Upton. Please don’t. You’re my son. My only son, and I love you so very much.”
A tear dampened my cheek. I left it there. “Where’s Jenice?”
Silence greeted me. I looked at Dad, and his eyes were bleak and filled with a pain I couldn’t bear.
“She blames me, doesn’t she?” When he didn’t reply, I nodded. “That’s okay. I blame myself.”
“No,” Dad exclaimed. “It wasn’t your fault. Jenice… she’s hurting. We’re all hurting. Just give her some time.”
Time wouldn’t solve this, and worse, I didn’t blame Jenice for hating me. I hated myself. I’d taken Jenna to that concert. I bought her the tickets for her birthday. I’d made that decision. If I hadn’t, then she’d still be here with us.
I’d lost Jenna, and I’d effectively lost my Dad, too, no matter what he said. Jenice would need him, and he’d go to her, be what she needed. And I already knew that what she’d need was never to see my face again.
“What about Verity?”
For the second time, Dad’s eyes lowered, and then he quickly shook his head.
“It was a bomb, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I looked away. “How many dead?”
“Ninety-four.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Another tear dripped down my face, then a third and a fourth. A flow I couldn’t stop. Why had I survived? What was so fucking special about me that I was spared and yet so many others lost their lives? The ache inside my chest increased to agonizing, hideous pain. I can’t bear it. I can’t do this. Please, fuck, please, just let me go.
“How long? How long have I been here?”
&nb
sp; “Two days. They operated on you for seven hours, Upton. You had so many pieces of shrapnel buried in your skin, and one narrowly missed your spinal cord. You’re lucky to be alive, but you are alive. And that’s all that matters.”
“Is it?”
I gingerly touched the padding on the side of my face. I was probably scarred for life, but who cared? Jenna was gone. She’d never graduate college or meet a man she loved enough to marry, or have kids, and a fulfilling career. My sister was dead, and every time I looked in the mirror, the wounds I bore would remind me of the dreadful truth.
“The boys are here,” Dad said. “All of them. Garen flew back from Dublin, and Sebastian came all the way from London. They’re desperate to see you.”
I shook my head. “Tired.” The thought of seeing my friends, watching their faces crumple in sympathy for their poor buddy with his fucked-up face, scarred body, and ruined life. I’d choke on the pity if I saw them now. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Enchanted: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 4) Page 1
