White Rabbit: The Rise (The Kingmaker Saga Book 1)

by London Miller

  Names of people who proved a threat to Mother’s empire.

  Names of people she would do anything to get rid of.

  And somewhere, whether on the first page or the last, Uilleam’s name was in it.

  Before the thought could send her into a panic, her phone chimed with a text. Uilleam, asking about her day, wanting to know what she wanted to do with the rest of their evening now that he was free.

  She let that text, that promise of something later, ground her in the present.

  “Iz, I have to go. We’ll have to talk about this later.”

  “Very well. So long as you realize that we will have to talk about it.”

  “Of course,” Karina said with a nod, distracted.

  “Better with me than with Mother, no?”

  That was enough to make Karina look up, to recognize that everything was beginning to change again. And with that thought came a niggling of something else. Something she couldn’t quite put words to.

  “Text me when you’re back in Brussels.” Karina turned to leave.

  “Do you love him?”

  The question shouldn’t have felt as much like a punch to the stomach as it did, but Karina felt it all the same. Such a simple question with a complicated and uncertain answer. “I don’t know,” she answered, because for once, she didn’t know.

  The answer to this particular question eluded her.

  Isla’s expression was slightly strained as she reached between them to rest her hand against her knee, unconsciously offering comfort for her next words. “Don’t fall in love, Karina. It only ever ends one way.”

  29

  Worth

  Despite Isla’s revelations, Karina couldn’t let that distract her from why she had come to Paris.

  One thing she was very good at was pretending.

  Pretending as if she wasn’t still thinking about what Isla had said.

  Pretending as if she knew nothing about the man currently standing opposite her as they waited on the dock, preparing to board the yacht where glowing lights lit up the interior and a party was in full swing.

  And in a glance, she could quite clearly see it was a man’s party.

  It was the only thought that came to mind as she stepped on board the luxury yacht idling on the water.

  She’d come expecting the sheer luxury of it all—from the white leather bench seats and dark polished wooden floors, and even the crew that were all in crisp white uniforms, all perfectly groomed and manicured—but what she wasn’t expecting was the sheer number of women in bikinis.

  Especially when the temperature was steadily dropping as the sun had all but disappeared.

  Sure, those bikinis might have been made from some sort of fur as far as she could tell—and there were even a couple who strolled past her in long fur coats as well (though their bikinis were made of some sort of reflective material)—but they were all in some state of undress that made her feel as if she looked like a nun in her simple jewel-toned dress.

  They were models, she thought, or at least women who aspired to be. And though there were a few who made their way around the party, most remained in one place, casually sipping from crystal champagne glasses.

  As if they were merely part of the party’s decorations—meant to be seen and nothing more.

  The thought made annoyance creep through her.

  It was men like Gaspard that made her do what she did.

  The William Paxtons of the world.

  Women shouldn’t have been mere objects for them to toy and tinker with when they saw fit.

  “Let’s save that ire in your eyes until after the party, shall we?”

  Her expression cleared away as she glanced up at Uilleam, feeling the weight of his palm on the small of her back. “Am I really that transparent?”

  “Only when you’re visualizing prey.”

  A startled laugh left her as he guided them below deck, down to where the heart of the party was.

  If she had thought the top was extravagant, this was something more.

  Golden light reflected off paneled walls, and there was a certain newness to everything that made her wonder whether this particular vessel had been purchased specifically for this event.

  The men milling around the floor certainly seemed the type to spend in abundance for something like this.

  “Reginald Turner,” Uilleam leaned down to whisper in her ear, low enough for only her to hear his words. To anyone else, it might have looked as if he kissed her cheek.

  The man in question walked toward them, his portly face lit up as he laid eyes on Uilleam first.

  He was a boisterous man with a voice to match, and though she had momentarily thought he would ignore her presence altogether, he nearly took her clear off her feet as he embraced her as enthusiastically as he had Uilleam.

  “It’s good to see you, old boy! Where have you been hiding yourself?”

  “Business and beautiful complications have kept me busy,” he returned just as easily.

  It took everything in her not to roll her eyes at that.

  “So I’ve heard,” Reginald said with a wink of his eye. “Dirty business in New York, was it? What’d they call you—the Kingmaker, no?”

  A brush of Uilleam’s thumb along her spine had her shifting closer to him.

  “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  God, she’d already made a monster out of the man.

  It continued this way as they circled the room. Uilleam whispered a name in her ear before the corresponding person came over to greet him. Some acknowledged her as his date—others acted as if she didn’t exist at all.

  She wondered, at first, why he bothered to tell her their names at all—it wasn’t as if any of them went out of their way to introduce themselves to her—but then she remembered his words from the other night.

  About how he knew she paid attention to everything going on around her. How she liked to observe and learn others’ secrets without them being any the wiser.

  No, he wasn’t giving her everything there was to know about the people attending this party, but rather allowed her to make her own observations.

  He gave her what she didn’t know to ask for.

  She watched him as he spoke with another man who was some sort of oil tycoon. It would be easy, so terribly easy to fall for a man like him.

  To dive headfirst into something foreign and new just to get a little closer to him—to peek behind the veil that was always calling her name where he was concerned.

  A commotion on the other side of the room dragged her from her thoughts, bringing her attention over to the couple that slowly descended down the stairs.

  Like Uilleam, the man wore a three-piece suit in the darkest black with a blood-red tie. There was a certain air about him that set him apart from the other men in the room.

  Not to mention, the woman walking alongside him wore a figure-hugging red dress that reached the floor and trailed a bit behind her. She also seemed to eye the women in bikinis with disdain as she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing crew member.

  The pair looked as if they were attending a red carpet event rather than a party thrown by a notorious criminal.

  If she had to guess, the two were important. They were greeted just as gleefully, if not more, than Uilleam had when they arrived.

  For once, Karina squeezed Uilleam’s hand to get his attention. Even as the man in front of them was speaking, clearly impassioned by whatever he was saying, Uilleam ignored him entirely to focus on her.

  She couldn’t unpack that at the moment. “Who are they?”

  He turned his head to follow her gaze, finding the couple she meant, and to her surprise, his mouth curved into a genuine smile.

  “Let me introduce you.”

  He excused them with barely a wave before taking her hand again. They were nearly across the floor when the couple who’d grabbed her attention spotted them.

  They, too, smiled at the sight of them.

/>   It was clear, at that moment, they knew each other quite well.

  “I thought you were skipping the festivities this year, Carmelo.” Uilleam greeted the man, though his words lacked their usual ire.

  As Karina looked from one man to the other, she didn’t think she could recall a single person who Uilleam had appeared to genuinely enjoy speaking with. He wasn’t much of a people person by any stretch of the imagination.

  “I couldn’t very well miss your debut.”

  Even if she hadn’t known he was Italian from his coloring, she definitely knew the second he opened his mouth. There was no denying the polished, alluring quality of his accent.

  “And who is this?”

  Uilleam smiled down at her, seeming proud to show her off. “Karina Ashworth. Karina, this is Carmelo Albini, and his wife, Aurora.”

  She smiled at them both, accepting Carmelo’s proffered hand before leaning into Aurora as the woman kissed both of her cheeks.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Karina.”

  “Likewise.”

  They tried to hide it—and had she not been looking for it, she might have missed it—but the pair were surprised to see her. She wasn’t quite sure whether it was because Uilleam had brought a date along with him, or whether it was her, but she was inclined to believe the former.

  “That’s quite the dress you’re wearing,” Aurora complimented with an appreciative glance.

  “Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling up at Uilleam. It had been his choice.

  Aurora was kind, Karina found as they talked. Unlike the other women in the room, she made it a point to circle the room, speaking with everyone.

  But she wasn’t treated the same way the others were. They all spoke to her with respect, their gazes never straying beyond her eyes.

  It was easier now to see how divided the room was once she took a step back and looked at it. Each group had a person at the very center.

  And if she had to guess, she would assume every one of them were the high-ranking members Uilleam had briefly mentioned.

  Abrupt applause drew Karina’s gaze back to the stairs leading up to the deck, moments before a rather short man in a slightly too tight suit came walking down the stairs.

  Her fingers instinctively tightened around Uilleam’s as she felt him stiffen beside her.

  She could understand why even as she knew very little about the other man.

  She knew men like him.

  The sort who thought they owned the world and everyone in it.

  He wore a pair of thick black frames, almost comically big, but they seemed to fit him. Even still, he looked nothing like the sort of man who was a part of a criminal conglomerate like the Coalition.

  “I’m so glad you all could join me.”

  He basked in the attention, making quite the spectacle, but no one seemed to mind.

  She knew, without having to be told, this was Gaspard. The man Uilleam had come to see.

  “And if it isn’t the man of the hour …”

  His smile was a little too wide as he greeted Uilleam with a clap on his back. His gaze briefly skirted over Karina, dismissing her just as quickly without saying a word.

  One could always measure a man in how he treated those he considered less powerful than him.

  “Let’s talk,” Gaspard said next, already heading in the opposite direction.

  She could practically see the restraint as Uilleam didn’t respond, merely giving a curt nod of his head.

  But there was fury in his eyes, and if he’d been half the man he was, she was sure he would have stabbed the man by now.

  “Forgive me,” he said next to her ear. “I’ll be right back.”

  She smiled when he pulled away. “I’ll be fine.”

  After a long moment, he turned on his heels and walked away with select men in the room following them.

  This late at night, the ocean was a dark, blank canvas of glimmering water, as beautiful as it was daunting.

  The murmur of voices from the party inside carried through the cracked doors behind her, but Karina was far more focused on the water below to decipher the voices and piece together the conversations.

  Sometimes, it could be a bit overwhelming to listen to everything going on around her and keep track of who said what. Trying to make sure she didn’t miss any stray details lest it come up later.

  It wasn’t necessarily because she needed to relay the information to someone else, but just little bits for her to know and tuck away in the back of her mind.

  She just wanted a moment of quiet. A moment when she could think clearly without having to process everything around her.

  She had to remember that she wasn’t just her mother’s daughter.

  No matter what she did, she couldn’t get her conversation with Isla out of her mind. Or everything she had revealed.

  It lingered, and no matter how she tried to pretend the conversation hadn’t happened at all, it was all she could think about.

  “Ah, madame. Uilleam’s pet, oui?”

  The slight quizzical tone to his voice might have made the question come off as more innocent than he meant it had it not been for the expression on his face.

  She would have been able to guess, even before Uilleam had told her outright, that the pair weren’t particularly fond of each other.

  She was also starting to think that he had good reason.

  Gaspard was ghostly pale, the color made all the more stark from his dark suit, gloves, and walking cane.

  “Oui, merci. C’est une belle fête. Merci pour l’invitation—Yes, thank you. This is a lovely party. Thank you for the invitation.”

  She only allowed herself the smallest of smiles at his reaction to her speaking flawless French. If he thought she was just a pretty girl on Uilleam’s arm and nothing more, she would gladly show him otherwise when Uilleam wasn’t around to see.

  She still had her secrets after all …

  “I trust you’re enjoying yourself?” he asked after a beat. “I don’t think I’ve seen very much of you around before.”

  No, she imagined he wouldn’t.

  Sensing she wasn’t going to respond, he went on to say, “Tell me, how does a nice girl like you wind up with a man like Uilleam Runehart?”

  “I guess I’m lucky in that way,” she answered, briefly glancing behind them at the party, trying to find Uilleam in the crowds.

  “Hmm.” He was staring now, his gaze slightly narrowed. “You look … familiar.”

  A flood of heat swept through her, but she was careful to keep her expression neutral.

  Familiar didn’t mean he knew her secret.

  It just wasn’t possible.

  But … if he was as powerful as Uilleam had proclaimed him to be, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had met her mother once.

  She sincerely hoped he hadn’t.

  “Karina.”

  She sighed in relief, turning to face Uilleam as he came from around the side of the boat. She could almost see the tension easing from his shoulders.

  “Lovely date you have here, Runehart.”

  “Very much so,” he returned, the arm he slid around her waist nothing short of possessive.

  Gaspard seemed to find the move amusing. “Have a good night.”

  “You as well,” Uilleam returned easily. “I look forward to working with you.”

  He said it so casually, Karina didn’t think anything of his words, at least until she saw the way Gaspard’s expression shifted.

  His nose turning up as if he smelled something bad.

  The slight curl of his lip.

  He very much hated that idea.

  “Quite sure you have what it takes?”

  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “Despite what others believe, I don’t find luck admirable.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it, unfortunately. I’m just very good at what I do. It’s never too late to teach an old dogs new tricks. You should call and set up an a
ppointment.”

  The taunt got him exactly what he wanted.

  Gaspard sputtered, barking out French curses that had his guard—who’d been standing silent off to the side—shifting on his feet, already reaching for the gun holstered at his belt.

  A wolf whistle from the other side of the deck where Skorpion was standing gave the man pause. And when he gave him a two-fingered salute, his smile a little wolfish, the man dropped his hands to his sides altogether.

  “You underestimate me at your own peril, Gaspard,” Uilleam said a moment later, drawing Karina’s gaze to him.

  The man she knew was gone.

  In his place was the Kingmaker again.

  Enthralled was the only word she could think of.

  It was the only thing she felt.

  Even as Gaspard strolled away unharmed, she fully suspected that Uilleam could conquer the world if he wanted.

  30

  Wear the Crown

  Uilleam didn’t speak for a long time. Not as they were leaving the party, or afterward, when they had climbed into the rental and driven away. But that had been an hour ago.

  Karina had wondered, in all that time, what was on his mind. What had caused the tension around his mouth and the sudden silence he had fallen into. Somewhere along the way, she had kicked off her heels and tucked her legs up onto the seat as she shifted as close to him as she possibly could while still wearing her seat belt.

  She reached out, brushing her fingers along the scruff of his jaw before sifting them through the thick strands of his hair, watching the lines smooth away along his forehead, some of the tension easing.

  After a moment, he reached over and rested his hand first on her knee, then shifted it farther up until his fingers curled around her thigh. Even with the warm air blowing through the vents, she could still feel the warmth of his touch.

  It was such a simple gesture, just an absent action that spoke volumes to her.

  She expected him to drive them back to their place, but he turned down a street she was sure led in the opposite direction. Beside him, though, she was content to go wherever he took them.