Vicious King: A Dark Captive Romance (Dark Dynasty Book 2)

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Vicious King: A Dark Captive Romance (Dark Dynasty Book 2) Page 1

by Stella Hart




  Vicious King

  Dark Dynasty Book 2

  Stella Hart

  Copyright © 2018 by Stella Hart

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Elias

  2. Tatum

  3. Tatum

  4. Elias

  5. Tatum

  6. Elias

  7. Tatum

  8. Elias

  9. Tatum

  10. Tatum

  11. Elias

  12. Tatum

  13. Tatum

  14. Tatum

  15. Tatum

  16. Elias

  17. Tatum

  18. Tatum

  19. Elias

  20. Elias

  21. Tatum

  More Information

  Also by Stella Hart

  1

  Elias

  “You fucking lied to me.”

  I looked my father square in the face. He seemed a lot older, weaker, but he still met my cool gaze with sharp eyes.

  “Lied to you? About what?” He sat up straighter, grimacing as he tried his best not to move his neck. “That’s a nice way to greet me after I almost died, by the way.”

  I ignored his sarcasm. “I guess the doctor didn’t tell you the entire situation yet. I tried to donate blood to you, and there were complications. That’s part of the reason you almost died after Tatum stabbed you.”

  Comprehension dawned in his pale blue-green eyes, and he waited for me to go on, guilt slowly etching itself into his sharp features.

  “Somehow, my A-negative mother….” I picked up the chart on his bedside table and squinted at it. “And my O-negative father,” I continued. “Managed to produce a B-positive child. Care to explain that mysterious anomaly, Dad?”

  He shook his head and cursed softly under his breath. “Shit… I knew this would come out one day,” he muttered. He rubbed his lined forehead. “I know I should’ve told you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “Told me what?” I asked sharply. “That I’m not really your son?”

  “For Christ’s sake, Elias, you are my son. Let me explain.”

  I held my hands up, palms facing him. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  “I’ve discussed your mother with you in the past. She had quite a few health issues. Thyroid problems, mostly.”

  I nodded.

  “After we got married, we started trying for a baby. I was a man with everything except an heir to share it all with. I wanted that. We both wanted that. A child to share our lives and fortune with. A child who could carry on everything I’ve built over the years. But your mother’s health issues proved very… difficult.”

  “So you adopted me and never bothered to tell me?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “No. Please be patient. It’s a long story.” He sighed and looked past me, then closed his eyes for a moment. “We tried everything, all the best doctors, but your mother couldn’t fall pregnant. Something to do with her eggs. She wasn’t producing any viable ones. So we finally made the decision to go in another direction. After a careful search, we found an egg donor. A sample taken from me was used to fertilize one of the eggs using in-vitro technology. Then that egg was successfully implanted in your mother’s womb. You grew inside her, and she gave birth to you. She might not have been your biological mother, and yes, I suppose you inherited your blood type from the donor, but Sylvie carried you all those months and she died birthing you. I was right there when she died, and I saw the way she looked at you before her eyes closed. She was your mother, Elias.”

  I sat down, a cold feeling creeping over my chest. “Oh.”

  He rubbed his face. “I wanted to tell you, believe me. But I just thought….” He shook his head and trailed off.

  “Thought what?”

  “You already knew from day one that your mother wasn’t around and that she died when you were born. I thought that was already traumatic enough as it was without adding on the story of your true biological parentage.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you might develop some horrible theory that you didn’t belong in this world, because it was so hard to bring you into existence—with the donor and the IVF and all—and then your mother died giving birth on top of that.”

  I set my lips in a tight, grim line. That made sense, I suppose, but only in a shallow way. “I might’ve thought that when I was a child, but surely by the time I was an adult, it would’ve been safe to tell me.”

  “I know, I know. I thought about telling you many times over the years. But it kept getting away from me. Every time I tried to do it, I thought it was too late because I’d already waited so long. I didn’t know how you’d react, and I kept picturing the worst. I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my only son. The only one who can truly continue my legacy.”

  “You could’ve remarried and had more children, if you were so worried about that,” I pointed out. “Sorry to be so cold and blunt, but you know what I mean.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Remember the car accident I was in when you were a toddler?”

  “Not really, but I remember hearing about it a few times. Down in New York, right?”

  “Yes. Well, anyway, it did quite a lot of… shall we say, structural damage to certain areas. While I can still perform the necessary activities required to create a child, if you catch my drift, I’ve been sterile ever since the accident.”

  I rubbed my jaw and exhaled. “Shit. I never knew that.”

  “Not exactly something I’m overjoyed to admit to my son, let alone anyone else,” he muttered. “There’s nothing less emasculating to me than knowing I can’t father children anymore.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about your conception. I always had a feeling it would come back to haunt me one day, but as I said, I just couldn’t find the right time or the right words to tell you.”

  “I understand.”

  “Forgive me, son?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. And for what it’s worth, I really am glad you pulled through. You looked terrible back there.”

  “I probably still do,” he said with a wry smile. “Fortunately, I’m on just enough painkillers to not care.”

  I returned his smile and stood up. “I should probably let you get some rest. You must be exhausted.”

  He nodded and yawned. “Come and see me again in the morning.” He glanced at the clock. “The real morning, that is.”

  “Will do.” I went to leave the room but turned back a second later as curiosity gnawed at my guts. “Can I ask you a couple of things before I go? It won’t take long.”

  “Of course.”

  “What should I do with Tatum? I never thought she would go this crazy. Obviously it’s more than acting at this point. She really can’t stand being with me. I mean, she hates me so much that she stabbed you just to get at me.”

  “Yes.” His eyes narrowed and he let out an angry puff of air. “Well, after what the little bitch did, I know exactly what I’d want to do, but in the end, I suppose she’s yours. Punish her as you see fit.”

  “You don’t think we should terminate the contract and send her home? Or send her straight to a fucking psych ward?”

  His upper lip curled slightly upward. “No. You’ve only had her a few
months, and she’s still in training. She’ll settle down. Like I’ve always said, she knew exactly what she signed up for when she gave herself to the society. And we all know what a good little actress she is. She isn’t crazy. She’s just faking it all for attention. Trust me.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Right.”

  “What was the other thing?”

  I hesitated for a few seconds before responding. This subject could be sensitive. “The egg donor,” I finally said. “Do you have any records on her, or contact details?”

  Now that I knew the truth, I was curious about my background on my biological mother’s side. Of course, I knew she wasn’t my mother like Sylvie was, because she didn’t carry me or give birth to me, but the immediate urge to know where my genes came from had stoked a burning thirst for answers.

  “What? Why?” Something zapped across my father’s gaze for a second, making his pale face bright and alive for an instant. It was fleeting, but I didn’t miss it. He was angry at me for asking.

  “Just curious. There’s this whole new side of me I never knew about till now. Wouldn’t mind finding out more.”

  “No.” Something glinted in his eyes again, hard and dense as steel. “She wasn’t your mother, so there’s no need for you to go digging around. I don’t have any information on her anyway.”

  I frowned. It wasn’t exactly an unreasonable request on my behalf. I was conceived twenty-four years ago, back when medical testing for heritable illnesses and conditions wasn’t at the standard it was nowadays. Back then, the egg donor might’ve seemed like a good choice, but for all I knew, certain health issues ran in her family that I might want to know about. Heritable forms of cancer, heart disease, chromosomal abnormalities, mental illnesses… all manner of things I might want to know about for my own sake and my future children’s sake, if I ever decided to have any.

  I deserved to be informed, as much as it might upset my father.

  I outlined this to him, expecting him to understand.

  Instead, there was that flash of steel again. “Leave it alone, Elias. Sylvie was your mother, and she sacrificed her life for you. Don’t taint her memory by searching for another woman to replace her!”

  I narrowed my eyes. Again, my request wasn’t unreasonable. I wasn’t looking to replace my mother’s memory with another woman. I just wanted simple information.

  Dad was overreacting, trying to guilt-trip me into dropping the subject, but I didn’t want to. His reticence made me suspicious all over again (along with the fact he claimed not to have any information on the egg donor, when he simply had to) and I wanted to shake him until he told me everything he knew about her.

  Of course, I couldn’t do that. Not now. He was weak, frail. It would have to wait.

  “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said curtly.

  I swept out of the room and strode down the hall. It was late, but I was wide awake now, filled with pumping adrenaline and fury.

  I was going to take out some of that anger as soon as I could, and I was going to do it to the person who deserved it most of all.

  Tatum.

  2

  Tatum

  Elias returned to the island sooner than I thought.

  I’d wondered if he’d stay on the mainland with his father while he was recovering in the hospital, but now I realized that was simply wishful thinking.

  I was in trouble, deep trouble, and I wanted to delay my punishment—or death—as long as possible. But it was only the morning after my escape attempt, and here he was, a scowl on his face and dark malice flashing in his eyes as he stared down at me in my bloodstained bed.

  Terror surged in my mind, and my blood felt like ice in my veins. These could be my last few moments on Earth, but my tongue was tied, so I couldn’t even fall to my knees on the floor and beg for mercy.

  “Get up,” Elias said, venom practically dripping from his tongue. His nose wrinkled as he caught sight of my filthy, scratched-up feet and the dried blood caking my hair. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

  I finally choked out a couple of words as he dragged me to my feet. “Please, Elias…”

  He cut me off. “Haven’t you already murdered enough of my family members?” he asked, eyes blazing.

  I cowered, my legs trembling like mad. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled. “Really, I’m sorry.”

  He narrowed his eyes and slammed me up against the wall. “I think I’ve heard that bullshit word from you enough already, you lying little slut.” He sneered. “Let me guess… you’re going to claim this incident was an accident as well? You tripped and accidentally stabbed my father in the fucking neck as you fell?”

  I shook my head helplessly. “No. It wasn’t an accident. But I do regret it. I swear. Please believe me.”

  “No shit. Of course it wasn’t an accident. You planned this. A bedspring, huh? Hidden in the vent? Smart, I’ll give you that. But now you know that even if you got away with that little scheme, you’d never really get away with it.”

  “I know,” I said in a ragged whisper. “We’re on an island. I get it, Elias. You’ve trapped me. I was trapped all along…”

  A vicious smile curled up the corner of his lips. “How long did you think you’d be able to trick me?”

  “What?”

  His nostrils flared. “You pretended to want me. Pretended like you might have actually accepted your place here. But the whole time, you were scheming and plotting.”

  “So were you,” I said. I immediately regretted it. As much as I hated the thought of him laughing behind my back over his plan to trick me into thinking he wasn’t aware that I was here against my will, pointing out his hypocrisy at a time like this wouldn’t help my case in the slightest.

  He leaned closer, his hot, angry breath right on my face. “How fucking long?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured. “For a while, I really believed I wanted you. I swear I did. I wasn’t plotting anything then. But it went away when I started to think straight again.”

  Did it, though?

  Hot shame built in my core as I considered this intrusive new question. As much as I despised Elias after discovering his true nature yesterday morning, some traitorous part of me actually felt guilty for hurting him. Disappointing him. He obviously wanted me to want him, wanted me to fall for him, despite his loathing for me, and I’d made him believe he was getting his way before turning around and stabbing him in the back.

  Well, I stabbed his father in the neck, to be specific, but the point still stood. I led him to believe one thing, and then I betrayed him. He was the one person in here who could decide my fate, and as a result of my actions, I’d well and truly ruined whatever twisted fragment of a relationship we had before now.

  How could I do that?

  The thought filled me with teeming shame and regret. Just a week ago on that altar in the woods, I told him I wanted him, needed him, and then I nearly killed one of the people closest to him. I was an awful, terrible, evil girl. A toy that deserved to be broken.

  Stop it, stop it, stop it, I chanted in my mind, trying to stop myself from careening down this mad path again. But I couldn’t stem the heavy flow of guilt. The stark realization that I still had some sort of feelings for Elias, still felt some sort of strange connection with him, made a cold sensation slither through my guts like a serpent.

  I suddenly realized I could’ve jumped yesterday. I could’ve plunged right into the ocean off that rugged cliff and made an attempt to swim away. Yeah, I would’ve most likely been smashed on the rocks below or carried away in a cold current, struggling to stay afloat and shivering violently as I sank, legs and arms finally giving way with frozen exhaustion. But at least I would’ve tried. At least there would’ve been a chance at survival, as infinitesimally small as it was sure to be.

  Earlier, I’d told myself that it was an obvious choice to remain on dry land. The likelihood that I would’ve died in the escape attempt was enormous, especially as I didn’t even know whi
ch direction to swim in to reach the mainland.

  But now, a sneaky voice in the back of my head was whispering to me, telling me that it wasn’t the only reason I gave up and let the mansion guards bring me back here. Perhaps part of me didn’t want to leave, alive or dead… that same part of me that wanted Elias last week, against my better judgment. Perhaps that same tiny, fractious part of me kept me here, desperate to see Elias again.

  The realization made me shudder, but I couldn’t stop the feelings from coming, no more than I could stem the flow of gut-wrenching guilt. The voice in the back of my head grew louder, turning from a whisper to a screech like iron nails scraping against rock.

  “Please forgive me,” I said, tears spilling from my eyes. “Please, Elias.”

  “Now why would I do that?” he said. He grabbed my right arm and yanked me toward the door.

  I screamed and tried to dig my heels in as he pulled me down the hall, but as usual, he was much stronger than me. “Don’t kill me! Please!” I cried.

  Elias stopped. “Is that what you think I’m going to do?” he asked, looking down at me with a narrowed, heavy-lidded gaze.

  I nodded tearfully. “Yes.”

  “I’m not going to kill you. I don’t want to,” he said crisply. Then he started dragging me down the hall again.

  The message there seemed quite clear. He wasn’t going to kill me, but if he ever wanted to, he could. He would.

  He took me upstairs to the communal bathroom I usually showered in with the other girls each morning. Right now, it was completely empty. I was already naked, so it only took a few seconds for Elias to turn one of the showers on and shove me into the cubicle.

 

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