Vengeful Royals: A Dark College Bully Romance (Heirs of Havoc Book 3)

by Vanessa Winters

  I looked at Jude quickly. “To who?”

  “Well… to me, actually,” said Smythe. “It’s not entirely uncommon, in cases such as yours where there is a great deal of wealth but very few family members.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” I asked, cursing myself for not having familiarized myself with any of this before now.

  “It means that I’m the one in charge of the overseeing and dispensing the funds until such time as you are able to take over its charge yourself.”

  “That’s great news,” Jude said. “So, you’re exactly the man we need to talk to right now about accessing those funds before we turn twenty-five.”

  “Well, yes. But that’s where the bad news comes in.”

  Shit. I felt my heartbeat increase. What now?

  Smythe cleared his throat. “You see, your father was very clear on one aspect of your trust funds when we finalized the paperwork together. He was a thoughtful man, as I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. And in this case, it appears that he had a touch of clairvoyance about him as well.” Smythe tapped his Parker fountain pen against the papers before him. “Have you heard of a hardship clause?”

  We shook our heads mutely. Sure, I could hazard a guess, but why not let the expert speak?

  “A hardship clause is often worked into trust funds, stating that if the trustee experiences some sort of hardship, the funds can be accessed early.”

  He saw us both sit up straight because he raised a hand before we could speak.

  “And he made sure to specifically disallow this in your case.”

  “What?” we blurted together. But I was the one that continued, “Mr. Smythe, I can’t be understanding you correctly. Are you saying that our father said if we do experience hardship so that we need our money earlier, he specifically said we would not be able to?”

  He nodded. “Precisely. Look, I’ll be frank with you both. This sort of thing is incredibly rare, and in fact I tried to talk him out of it when he told me about his idea. But he said that if there was any chance, any chance at all that the two of you had to live in the real world and earn money as average citizens, he wanted you to be forced to take it.”

  I felt like I was going to be sick. This had come from my gentle, tender-hearted father? Had he hated us?

  Smythe sighed. “I do hate to be the bearer of bad news.” He leaned across his desk, peeking out into the hallway, before ducking below his desk and withdrawing a bottle of Baileys, pouring a capful into each of our coffees. “There, have a sip. That’ll buck you up. There’s more news to come yet, children.”

  Obediently, we both drank our coffees, letting the liquor ease the shock some. It did help. I just couldn’t let it help as much as it had yesterday. I could feel by Jude’s glance at me that he was thinking the same. I nodded in mute agreement.

  “What else,” I croaked, setting my mug back down on its coaster.

  “Have you any idea exactly how much your trust funds hold?” Smythe asked.

  “No.” But the way this meeting was going, I wasn’t expecting much.

  “You’re looking at a number in the range of $250 million,” he said simply.

  “Combined?” I gasped.

  “Each,” Smythe said, a note of satisfaction in his tone.

  I sank back against my chair. I don’t know what I’d expected, but certainly not that much money just sitting in a bank account with my name on it somewhere.

  “Now, that amount of money might help explain his concern, don’t you think?” Smythe asked kindly. We nodded slowly, in unison. Lately, it was as if we had reverted to our childhood habits of being so in sync Mother had threatened to beat the weirdness out of us, calling us the Shining Twins. “Your father was worried that you would grow up to be entitled, arrogant, and foolish. You have enough money in these accounts to never work a day in your life, especially if you invest carefully and have good, stable returns. Which I can assure you is what I’m doing with it now as your trustee.”

  Jude licked his lips. “You’re saying that Dad thought if we ever ended up in a situation where we had to earn a living, he wanted us to take it.”

  “Precisely, Jude!” Smythe said, sounding like a proud teacher. “And now that situation has arisen. I didn’t think it ever would, and I don’t think he thought it would either. He had tried to work a clause in the fund that you would have to work a period of time before accessing the funds, but there are too many ways to wiggle out of that. Too many legal loopholes that lawyers with an eye on the prize would be able to help you leap.”

  Jude looked at me. “It’s fine, we’ll just take this information to a bank. They’ll give us a loan to pay back once we turn twenty-five. Any bank would kill to have access to these funds coming our way.”

  Smythe tisked quietly. “Actually, Jude, I’m afraid your father thought of that already.”

  “What now?” Jude asked, exasperated.

  “The terms of your funds do stipulate that if you are in significant debt when you come of age, the entire fund is to be dissolved and donated to the charity of his choice.” He looked down his nose to the pages before him. “I believe he stipulated that it would be the Boys and Girls Club of America.”

  “So that’s it then?” I asked thickly, my throat choked with tears. “Mother has ensured we have no access to our money now, and Dad made sure we’d be left penniless until we’re twenty-five in some sort of fucked-up life lesson?”

  Jude put an arm around me but said nothing.

  “No, no, Lila! It’s not so bad!” Smythe said, leaning across his desk to pat my hand. “He has provided for you both to the minimum amount, and I must say, it’s more than many have.” He lifted a sheet and read off a list there. “You are to both have full tuition covered, full medical benefits including dental and vision, and a check each for a deposit including first and last month’s rent.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Nothing more than that?”

  “Don’t be disheartened, dear. That’s nothing to sneeze at. You’ll have a start. You’ll just have to earn money for rent, utilities, food, and transportation until the time that you turn twenty-five. Which, if I’m correct, is in four years?”

  “Closer to four and a half,” I muttered.

  That felt like a lifetime.

  “Don’t give up yet,” Jude said. “Maybe the feds will release the rest of the other money soon.”

  Smythe leaned back in his chair. “You’re absolutely right, Jude. And in that case, your trust fund will still be waiting for you, gaining interest and dividends until you’re ready for it.”

  Smythe looked proud with himself, but the more he looked side to side at us the more that triumphant look fell from his face. However Smythe saw this meeting going, it certainly wasn’t turning out the way he had hoped.

  Join the club.

  “Is there anything else?” Jude persisted. “Any other funds we would have access to?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Smythe said. “The government has seized everything else to go through it. You are incredibly lucky that your mother was not the trustee of these funds, nor did they come from her earnings. Otherwise, to state it plainly… you’d be up shit creek without a paddle!”

  He gave a merry little laugh, but sobered up when we did not laugh in response. “All will be fine, children. I am looking after your money very carefully here, I assure you.”

  We nodded and stood together. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Smythe,” I said.

  He took my hand in his, placing his other hand on top. “I’m always here for your both. I was so very fond of your father. He was a dear friend to me. And if you need any recommendations for job applications, please let me know. Once you find jobs, come back in and I’ll help you both create a budget, eh? To manage your living expenses. It’ll be fun!”

  I shuddered at that, and we both left. Eager to get the hell out of there.

  “Well, that could have been worse,” Jude said in a fake bright voice.

 
I snorted. “Yeah, how?”

  “He could have told us we had nothing at all.”

  “To be honest, I was half expecting that,” I said.

  He looked at his watch. “Shit, I didn’t expect it to go that long. We’ve got to hurry to make it to our appointment with Agent Martin.”

  We barely made it to the police station on time, where we were meeting the federal marshal. I looked around for Aiden as we were led into one of the claustrophobic, windowless rooms. And at this meeting, we weren’t offered any fancy coffees.

  Agent Martin came in a few moments after we were seated, looking down at a file folder as he entered. He sat, and then finally looked at us.

  “Well, Lila and Jude Carlisle.”

  Jude stuck his hand out, and they shook. “Nice to meet you, Agent Martin.”

  He shook my brother’s hand back. “How can I help you both?”

  I shrugged. “Well, we were kicked out of our home yesterday, as you know, and found out our mother had been released on house arrest for the duration of her trial.”

  “And?” Martin raised a gray brow. His face was hard, lined from years of frowning. His bald head reflected the white gleam of the lights in the room.

  “And… we were wondering how that could be. I mean, our mother is guilty. Absolutely guilty. But now we’re homeless and she’s living in the lap of luxury?” Jude struggled to keep his voice measured.

  “Are you making an official statement?” Agent Martin asked, lifting his pen theatrically and flipping to a blank page.

  “What?” Jude frowned.

  Martin dropped the pen and leaned back in his chair, looking at the two of us appraisingly. “Why don’t I tell you what I see happening here, and then you two can fill in the blanks.”

  “Um… sure,” I said.

  He grinned. “Here’s what I see. I see two spoiled, arrogant rich kids whining that the federal government took mommy’s money away. I see two kids who had access to everything going on in that house, but suddenly only reported anything wrong last year. I’m seeing something that smells just a little bit fishy, and I don’t like it.” He leaned forward, his brown eyes hard. “I don’t like it one bit.”

  My mouth fell open. “Wh--what?”

  “Lila, why don’t you tell me about the,” he referenced a page in his file. “The two trips to Switzerland you make a year?”

  “I-I-“ I glanced at Jude, who surged forward in his seat.

  “Now hang on,” he said. “Are you accusing my sister of something? We came here to talk about our mother! We didn’t do a damn thing wrong!”

  “Be that as it may, Jude, I have to say, those trips to the world’s capital of secret banks are looking mighty suspicious indeed to us here,” Martin said coolly.

  Jude slammed his hands on the table, leaning across it. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I stood and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back to his seat. “Stop,” I hissed. “He’s trying to get a rise out of us. Let’s just answer his questions.” Jude’s cheeks had two high spots of color, but he nodded. “I’m sorry, Agent Martin,” I said in my most professional voice. “You’ve caught us a bit off-guard here.”

  Martin looked a bit disappointed at how quickly we’d regained control. Good, let him be, because as far I was concerned currently, he was in cahoots with Mother.

  I sat regally. “I’d be happy to talk to you about Switzerland, a country I visit every year for the fashion and the Interlaken Music Festival. I went to boarding school there for a few years, so I have a lot of friends.” He opened his mouth to question me further--I could just see the questions glittering in his eyes--but I continued smoothly, “Unfortunately, after your treatment of us today, any further questions you have for us will have to be answered in the presence of our attorney.”

  Martin flushed. “Is that necessary? You know, innocent people have no problem answering a few simple questions without going to all the trouble of hiring an attorney.”

  “I have not found that to be true,” I said calmly, standing and pulling Jude up with me. “Are we being held, or can we go and set an appointment at another time with our attorney present?”

  He grunted something under his breath.

  “Sorry, Agent Martin, I didn’t quite catch that,” I said sweetly.

  He clicked his tongue. “I said go. We’ll set an appointment. But don’t even think of leaving town.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. Because I can’t wait for you to put the right person away,” I said, sailing to the door.

  I stepped one foot over the threshold when I stopped and turned to face the pompous agent once more. “You know, I’m sure you’re a busy man, Agent Martin, but you really should have taken a closer look at the facts of the case before you decided to treat us like criminals in cahoots with our mother. Maybe you would have found the details of the lifelong abuse we suffered under her care and her absolute disregard for us that meant she wouldn’t have trusted us to pick out a bottle of Chardonnay for her from the store. If you had, maybe we could have answered all your questions today without a problem. Maybe we could have even given you whatever information you needed to help make this case easier for you to tie up. Because trust me, we want to see that bitch behind bars just as badly as you do.”

  Then, I shut the door behind me before Jude and I exited the police station, our heads held high.

  We stopped outside the police station and both let out simultaneous gasping laughs. “Holy shit, Li!” Jude said, bent over with his hands on his knees. “Did you see the look on his face?”

  “Like a fish!” I shrieked, wiping the tears from our eyes.

  Finally, we both straightened and walked to the car. “Back to Brooklyn’s?” he asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

  “Actually, would you mind dropping me at Aiden’s? I kind of stood him up last night by accident. It’s not far out of the way.”

  “Not far out of the way with you could mean anything,” he said, but he let me direct him there. Pulling up to the curb, he stopped me before I could get out. “I know you like this guy, but you’ll be careful, right?”

  “Yeeeees, dad,” I said, getting out and running to the front door. I hit the doorbell, suddenly really eager to see Aiden’s sweet brown eyes. I hit it twice more, smiling through the peephole. “Aiden! It’s me!”

  The door swung open a minute later, revealing the man himself, clad in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt at all.

  “Yum,” I said, admiring his six pack. “What a way to greet a lady?”

  But he didn’t smile back. And when I leaned in for a kiss, he pulled back.

  “What is it?” I asked, my smile fading. “What’s wrong?”

  He folded his arms across his bare chest. “Seriously?”

  “What is it?” I looked behind me, but Jude had already left. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I asked with a little laugh.

  “Mm… nope.” He stood in the center of the doorway, his gaze as hard as his pecs.

  I blinked. “Aiden…?”

  “You’re a smart girl, Lila. Why don’t you try and guess why I might be a bit pissed off.”

  I took a breath. “Is this about yesterday? Look, I’m really sorry. So much happened. You won’t believe it! They let Mother out on house arrest! She just shows up--.“

  “Yeah, I know they did,” he said, not budging an inch.

  “And--.” I stopped. “Oh.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, so what else?”

  I took a step back. “I… I guess that’s it.”

  “Okay, cool. Well, thanks for stopping by.” And he closed the door in my face.

  Seriously? What the fuck? I was getting mad now. Who did he think he was? I leaned in close to the door and shouted, “Thanks a lot for the warning, asshole!”

  The door flung open once more, and his face had grown two shades redder. “Want to explain to me how it’s my fault that my girl just up and ghosts me, no call, no text, nothing for over twenty-fou
r hours? Because that sounds like it would be a rich fucking story.”

  “My life has been turned upside down!” I shouted. “I got kicked out of my house! I had nowhere to go! Luckily Brooklyn agreed to take us in, with barely a dollar to our names and no one else to turn to! So, fuck you and your sanctimonious bullshit!”

  I turned on my heel to run down the stairs, but his hand caught my arm and turned me right back to face him, bringing us nose to nose. And from there, it was on.

  Both of us were flushed with anger; hot with upset. I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs tight around his waist. He stepped backwards into the house, shutting the front door with his foot and then slamming me against the wall. I gripped his back, feeling the tense muscles beneath his skin. His hands were all over me, cupping my breasts, running up my back, lighting me on fire.

  I bit his bottom lip as he ran a hand through my hair, ripping out the hair tie so my hair tumbled down around us. Next was my shirt, but he didn’t bother with the buttons, just pulling it hard down the center so the they flew off, pinging the tiled floor across the room. He brought his lips to my chest, tasting my skin, my nipples, as I arched my head back in the ferocious pleasure of it. Yanking down his pants and boxers, he tore a hole in the tights I was wearing beneath my skirt, pushing my underwear to the side as he guided himself towards me.

  “Wait,” I gasped. “Protection?”

  “Shut up,” he growled, and at that point I was too hot to care, too hot to worry about the consequences as he pushed himself inside, filling me with his throbbing heat.

  “Yes.” I closed my eyes. God, it was so good. So very, very good. We moved together, gaining speed. Faster, faster and then with a tumbling rush, we finished one after another.

  His body was still pinning me to the wall, I moved my hips, my bones aching from being pressed so hard back against its hard surface, and he slowly let me down, his chest slick with sweat.

  I didn’t know what to say. In the aftermath of that burst of pleasure, I suddenly felt strange. Awkward. Even dirty.

  “Did you not have a condom?” I asked as he stepped into his boxers and pants.

  “I don’t do condoms.”