by Sofia Daniel
Deposed
Kings of Mercia Academy Book 3
Sofia Daniel
Contents
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
From Sofia Daniel
Chapter 1
I clutched my smartphone with numb fingers, and stared at my invalid e-ticket to New York for so long, my vision blurred. The editor-in-chief of the Saturday Correspondent’s words echoed in my head and drowned out the roar of blood rushing through my eardrums.
The train sped over the tracks, creating a blur of green outside its huge windows, and making the lining of my stomach rumble with dread. It had taken tears, lies, and a whole lot of feminine wiles for Edward to believe that I hadn’t leaked the academy’s secrets to the Saturday Correspondent. And now, after I’d fulfilled my end of the bargain and given his paper some scandalous scoops, Rudolph wanted me to return.
To the wrath of Edward.
To the triumvirate.
And to Mercia Academy.
My throat spasmed, and my mind ran through everything I’d suffered during my first term. The gauntlet pushed itself to the front of my mind, as did the punches and kicks and hair-pulling. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the sting of the tampered shampoo.
If I returned to Mercia Academy, things would be much worse. I might not even make it out alive. Anger surged through my veins, making my limbs shake. Rudolph couldn’t do this to me. The information I had given the Correspondent had taken it from a loss-making operation to one that syndicated articles to much larger papers. Jackie had even told me they’d made enough to pay off their corporate debt. I had done enough, and he couldn’t demand any more.
The train pulled into an artificially lit platform in London, Victoria station. A muffled announcement sounded on the loudspeaker, and all the passengers bustled out toward the exit. I stared after them, still rooted to my seat. I had two choices. One, to return to Mercia Academy face the consequences when the article based on the file I took from Edward came out on Saturday. Or two, to storm Jackie’s meeting with Rudolph and demand that he fulfill his end of our bargain.
Rudolph owed me a ticket back home to Manhattan, a place at a school of my choosing, an ivy league education, and an internship. I’d given his paper the information they had needed to create scandalous articles. He wouldn’t get away with treating me like shit.
People boarded the train, indicating that it would soon head back south. I pulled myself out of my seat, grabbed my case, and eased my way through the stream of new passengers and out onto the platform. It was time to go to Fleet Street and confront Rudolph.
I passed the ticket barrier and walked through the busy station, avoiding near collisions with people running for their trains. The cacophony of traffic coming in from outside combined with announcements over multiple loudspeakers filled my ears and made my head pound. My phone vibrated. I stopped walking and pulled my smartphone out of my pocket.
A message from Edward flashed on the screen. Where are you?
Guilt surged up my gullet. Mere hours ago, I’d left him naked and sleeping in his study without so much as a goodbye. I stuffed the phone back into my pocket. Stuffed the guilt back down into my gut, and headed for the taxi rank.
Jackie usually ushered me into her room every time I visited the Saturday Correspondent. Today, she kept me waiting. I sat at the only free seat in the open-plan room, which was next to a bank of six desks set up with huge computer screens for interns to watch through the camera footage. Chocolate Easter egg wrapping littered the surfaces of their desks.
“Mr. Underwood’s daughter’s going to a local comprehensive school now,” whispered an Indian girl with a long braid she coiled into a thick bun.
“Charlotte?” Her colleague, a plump blonde, raised her head and grinned. “Why?”
“Her dad’s diverting all his funds to hiring a lawyer. He’s convinced he’ll go to jail for fiddling expenses.” She took a sip from her coffee mug. “What are you looking at?”
“Edward Mercia.”
My heart jumped into my throat, and I whirled around. Both interns fixed their gazes on the computer screens, and each wore headphones.
“Oh.” The blonde leaned back to stare at the Indian girl’s screen. “I saw him rush through the common room, looking agitated. What’s got his knickers in a twist?”
“He’s frantic about Emilia and has just told Blake Simpson-West that she’s moved out of her room.”
Regret spasmed through my insides. Keeping my head down, I twisted in my seat and turned my back on the interns in case they recognized me. I wasn’t in any kind of mood to discuss what I’d done to Edward with wide-eyed, young journalists. They continued discussing his sorry state until the sounds of their excited voices made my insides shrivel.
My spying probably caused Edward and the triumvirate more distress and public humiliation than they had originally caused me.
I pulled my attention away from the interns and back to Jackie’s door. What could be so important that she couldn’t spare a few minutes to see me? It felt like I’d been sitting here for at least an hour. My gaze flickered to the window, where a trio of red, double-decker buses headed toward St. Paul’s Cathedral. My smartphone buzzed again, and a pit of dread opened up in my stomach.
I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at the screen. It was Edward. Again. What kind of person leaves a place so suddenly and without a goodbye? A guilty one. You were the leak. Your actions are the only confession I need.
My lips tightened. It looked like he had barged his way through the room I shared with Rita and found that I had taken some of my things and gone.
“Mr. Trommel!” exclaimed a voice at the other end of the open-plan office.
My head snapped up. Rudolph strolled in, flanked by two female assistants. He wore a navy blue, pinstriped suit with a silver tie that matched his startling, gray eyes. As usual, his face was devoid of expression, jowls and excess skin hanging off his bones like used-up crepe paper.
My heart pounded to the beat of the fury thrumming in my veins. This was the man who had seen my disheveled state after that gauntlet and hadn’t given a damn. Now he wanted to send me back into the den of bullies and bastards and bitches. My nostrils flared. If he thought he could make me return to Mercia Academy, he was as addled as he looked.
“Rudolph?” I said.
He stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes. “Why aren’t you at school?”
The interns at the nearby bank of desks all stopped watching their videos to gape. It was hard to tell if they were looking at Rudolph or kicking themselves that they hadn’t noticed me sitting so close.
I rose to my feet. “Term ends in a week, and I’ve finished my assignment. I was on my way to Heathrow Airport when the airline’s online check-in no longer recognized my e-ticket for New York as valid.”
“Because you’re staying in England and giving me more material for the Correspondent.” Without so much as a knock, Rudolph pushed open Jackie’s door and stepped inside.
I scrambled after him and clenched my teeth. “Rudolph—”
Jackie sat at her desk with a booted foot on its surface and her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. “No…” she rasped at the person on the other line. “I don’t care that you represent the Sunday Times and that you think my money laundering article should debut in your Educational Supplement.”
The other person replied with something that made her smirk. She tucked a lock of bleached-blonde hair behind her other ear. “It’s tempting, but how will you publish that article without mentioning all the other goings-on in International House? Your readers will want context.”
Seconds later, she interjected with, “No, way. If you want those articles, you’re paying for them separately.”
Another pause. Another smirk. A wink at Rudolph, who steepled his fingers like Mr. Burns, rocked back on his heels and beamed. Disgust curdled in my stomach. Jackie wouldn’t be able to demand money from the Sunday Times without my hard work. She knew it, and Rudolph knew it, too. That was why he had canceled my ticket to New York. He hadn’t finished milking his stepdaughter, the cash cow.
“Alright.” She coughed into her hand. “Take that number, double it, and I’ll let you run it before the Correspondent.”
The person at the other end of the phone must have said yes because Jackie’s lips spread into a smile that exposed her tobacco-stained teeth.
Rudolph lowered himself onto one of the chairs in front of her desk and beamed, giving her a hand signal to carry on.
I took the seat next to him and leaned in to whisper. “Does Mom know you’re using me as a spy?”
His jovial expression morphed, slow as a turtle emerging from its shell, into a grimace of irritation. “She also doesn’t know how her daughter obtained this information.” He shook his head. “And it would break her to think you’d seduced three boys to get it.”
His words hit like a punch in the stomach. Mom had probably washed her hands of me by now. I’d sent her dozens of texts and emails and hadn’t gotten any response. These days, the only time I saw her was when she appeared at various charity events in the society pages.
I shook off those thoughts. There were cameras in Edward’s study and his room, and I’d been careful not to do anything within its line of sight. But nothing could be done about the sounds. Maybe the interns monitoring the footage worked things out and told Jackie, who told Rudolph.
I clenched my teeth. If this was his attempt at blackmailing me, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t ashamed of anything I’d done with the boys… Apart from what Rudolph wanted me to do.
Jackie hung up. “We’re going to focus on Chaloner’s dirty dealings, and the Times will take the educational angle. It works out more lucrative that way.”
“Excellent.” Rudolph tapped his steepled fingers, giving Jackie a bizarre round of silent applause. “How will we follow up this great performance, ladies?”
“I’m not going back to Mercia Academy,” I said.
Jackie leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desk. Her gaze flickered to Rudolph, who sat back in his seat and gave her a gentle nod. A frustrated breath huffed out of my nostrils. She’d kept me waiting because she didn’t want to make an unreasonable demand without my wretched stepfather as backup.
“We need you on the inside for one more term,” she said. “After what’s coming, they’ll be reconstructing their reputa—”
“No!” My hands curled into fists. I glowered at Rudolph, but he kept his gaze on Jackie, as though whatever I said next wouldn’t matter. “I agreed to provide stories on Edward Mercia, Henry Bourneville, Blake Simpson-West, and Charlotte Underwood. That was the deal. I delivered on that and more, now it’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain.”
Jackie slid back into her seat and shot Rudolph a pleading look.
The wretched old man puckered his lips. “Return to the academy, gather more information about those kids, and I won’t tell your mother you’re in a relationship with three boys.”
“Tell her,” I snapped.
He turned his sharp, silvery eyes on me and stared.
“She hasn’t responded to any of my texts.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my smartphone. “Maybe she’ll remember she has a daughter if she finds out I’ve turned to boys to fill the maternal gap.”
His silent stare continued for so long, my stomach twisted. I pressed my lips together and held his gaze. A tactic like that probably intimidated a whole bunch of people in the business world, but so what? His disapproval was nothing compared to the crowd of violent assholes at Mercia Academy who would bay for my blood when they discovered what I’d done to their precious school.
Nobody in the room spoke. My heart pounded in synch with Jackie’s drumming of the pads of her fingers on the wooden desk, and one of the personal assistants standing behind us shifted on her feet. The silence built and built like a pressure cooker about to explode. Rudolph showed no signs of wanting to speak to me, so I caved.
“Did you know Headmaster Chaloner cornered me this morning and nearly had me arrested by two police officers? Or that he’s insane enough to kick a door off its hinges? And the first term, a whole hall of people attacked me because they hate Americans? You want to send me back to that, after what I’ve done to the academy?”
Jackie cleared her throat. “The headmaster was arrested earlier today. I doubt the police will let a criminal return to a school full of children.”
“No, but Edward Mercia just worked out that I’m the leak.” I pointed at the door. “Ask your interns if you don’t believe me. They’ve seen the recordings. Don’t you think he’ll make sure everyone knows about this? With my cover blown, no one will trust me enough to say anything incriminating.”
Jackie glanced down and didn’t reply. Probably because I’d won the argument.
Rudolph stroked his chin. “It’s that or military school.”
“Where?” I asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Which school?” I snapped. “If it means not going back to Mercia Academy, I’ll do it. But when I eventually catch up with Mom, I’ll tell her I did everything you asked of me and more, yet you put me in military school because you didn’t care what the boys would do to me if I returned.”
It was his turn to flare his nostrils. “Very well. If you want to go somewhere else, you’ll have to fund it yourself.”
Blood drained from my face and settled into my frantic heart. “Y-you would leave me stranded in England?”
“There’s a place for you at Mercia Academy.” He folded his arms over his chest and stretched out his legs in a display of nonchalance.
I pulled myself out of my seat and walked out on shaky legs. There was no point in continuing this conversation. Until I could accrue enough allowance to buy a plane ticket to New York, I had no choice but to return to Mercia Academy. To the triumvirate’s wrath.
My legs felt like wooden pegs as I walked out of the building, and my insides felt raw and hollow, as though someone had scooped them out with a rusty knife. How could Rudolph be so ruthless? Black cabs zoomed past on the red stretches of roads reserved for busses, and I closed my eyes and inhaled cool, spring air laden with exhaust fumes.
“Emilia?” asked a familiar voice.
I turned toward the road. Peeking through the limo window was Marissa, the assistant of the assistant who had escorted me on my first day of the academy.
“What are you doing in London?” She poked her long-nailed hand out of the window and beckoned. “Shouldn’t you be at that school?”
“I had to leave.”
“Couldn’t stand the people?” she asked.
“Something like that.” I leaned my hand on the roof of the limo. “Have you seen my mom?”
“She flew across with us but went onto Paris to meet a girlfriend.”
My heart sank into my loafers. Why would Rudolph treat me like I was anything but expendable when my own mother didn’t give a shit? “Right.
Could you tell her I’ll be in London for the next few weeks? It’s school holidays right now, and I’d love to see her.”
Marissa grinned. “Of course, honey.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t hold out any hope that Mom would get in touch. The lifestyle of being the wife of a multimillionaire had clearly gone to her head, and she wouldn’t let something as trivial as motherhood spoil her fun. “See you.”
As I headed down Fleet Street toward St. Paul’s station, I glanced at the buildings of various other British newspapers. None of them would allow an underage girl on an undercover mission, much less force her to return once her cover had been blown. The phone buzzed again. It was probably Edward, telling me I was a bitch.
I pulled it out and gazed at the message on the screen. Father has been arrested on suspicion of money laundering. FATHER! I hope you’re proud that your machinations have brought both the school and the duchy into disrepute. Return to the academy, NOW.
Guilt gnawed at my insides like a colony of maggots. Even if I replied to explain that I hadn’t meant for any of this to affect Edward’s poor father, my words would be meaningless. I slipped the phone back into my pocket and waited in line to buy an Oyster card. There was only one person in the world who might be able to give me refuge, and I hoped he was still in London.
Chapter 2
Sergei might let me sleep on his sofa until my allowance arrived. It would mean going out with him in the evening as his beard, but by the time the triumvirate found pictures of me in the society pages, they would already hate me for being the leak.
Seconds after I reached the front of the line for the ticket machine, the buzzing of my phone gave me a jolt. My hand twitched toward my pocket. I had to know if there was an update about Edward’s dad. The poor man had to be frightened out of his wits to have been arrested. With his dementia, he probably didn’t even know why the police had taken him away.
