The Everest Brothers: An Alpha Billionaires Series

by S. L. Scott

  Cocking an eyebrow, I take the bait and give her what she’s aiming for. “I will be if luck is on my side.”

  “You don’t need luck.”

  “What do I need?”

  “What you’ve given me in telling me you’re coming to Brudenbourg. We don’t act as team Hutton or team Ally. We are team us.” She finally gets it.

  I smile with a goofy pride that whether or not I ever sit on that throne, I’ll always be by her side. “Exactly.”

  She bites her lip. I pluck it out from under her teeth and rub the pad of my thumb over it twice before kissing her. When we part and her eyes open, she says, “I missed you today.”

  I push her hair behind her ear, admiring her. “Show me how much, baby.”

  “Luck is definitely on your side.”

  Thirty minutes later, we return to the living room. Bennett’s dumped Jakob in a spare bedroom down the other hall and made sure Marielle had everything she needed before going back to his place.

  While I eat pizza with Ally, I take the time to enjoy this moment between us, because tomorrow could bring more than unforeseen trouble.

  * * *

  We buckle our seatbelts and prepare for takeoff. “In eight hours, we’ll come face-to-face with your parents again. Are you ready?”

  “I am,” she says with confidence. “It’s not going to be easy emotionally, but it needs to happen.”

  There’s an endless sky of beautiful clouds outside the window. While she settles in with a good book, I lean back and watch her, discovering her unfolding story much more fascinating than any pretty scenery.

  I’m not sure of the role I’ll play when we return to Brudenbourg, but I know who I am to her and who she is to me. It’s not always been the easiest relationship to define, but it’s been interesting. And worth it.

  I’m pragmatic in my everyday life. My routine had become predictable. Stifled. Ally has breathed life into my days and love into my nights. There’s nothing rational about what we’ve become so fast, but it doesn’t scare me. Time is a number. I’m good with numbers and facts.

  I love her.

  I love her spontaneity.

  I love her thoughtfulness.

  I love the anger that drives her.

  Determination.

  Passion.

  Whiplash moods.

  I love everything about her.

  And because of that, I will be there for my girl however she needs me.

  33

  Ally

  We’re allowed to land, and an SUV is waiting for us. I’m not sure if my parents know I’m here with Margie, Jakob, and Marielle or not. But no doubt security will advise them shortly.

  Among the quiet chatter of the group, Hutton takes my hand on the seat between us and brings it to his lap. “Don’t be nervous,” he says.

  “They don’t know I’m here, and they definitely don’t know you’re here. But the worst part is that they know what I’ve done.”

  “What have you done, Princess? Fallen in love. Yes, it’s not as headline-making as they’d like for an excuse to kick you out of succession, but that’s all they have on you. Your case would be a PR nightmare for them in the court of public opinion. So don’t stress. You’re holding the cards. All you have to do is play your hand.”

  “Which is?”

  Shaking his head at himself, he chuckles as he looks down at our hands. “A royal flush.”

  I want to roll my eyes, but his cheesy reply has me giggling with him. “That was really terrible.”

  “I know.” He’s still laughing. “Just awful.”

  Sliding across the seat, I bump up against him, and say, “Promise you’ll always tell me terribly unfunny jokes.”

  He kisses my head. “Don’t worry. I have a lifetime full of them.”

  The palace comes into view, situated in the middle of rolling green hills with a blanket of hovering fog. The midday sun will burn it off soon enough, and I can’t help but want it to melt my father’s cold heart. I don’t know if I’m walking into anger or hate or if we can talk and get past this and back on track. I’m still hurt that he called me a whore. Is that what he really thinks of me, or were they heated words shouted in the moment?

  My hand tightens around Hutton’s. I sincerely hope whatever I’m threatened with or how I’m treated never touches him.

  His love is pure, obvious, and not hidden. It’s simple. He’s a man who fell in love with a woman. We might have been physical at first, but the bond was there, the emotions tied in from the moment we met. I wish I would have seen the possibility sooner, to know he’d want to be a part of this crazy life . . . maybe things could have been different.

  I still have those awful, antiquated bylaws to deal with, even if I do convince my father to let me keep the crown I was born to wear. With my mother’s lack of action, I’m determined to help women get out from under some of these laws. We’re a progressive country until you dig deeper. And even though no one technically holds anyone to some of them, the threat remains.

  The SUV comes to a stop, and the group looks around at each other. It’s the quiet before the storm. Margie and I haven’t talked much since yesterday, but we’ve laid down our weapons. For now. Ultimately, the next few hours will determine where our friendship finally lands.

  Jakob says, “I should talk to him first. I have the least to lose.”

  I look at Hutton who gives him a simple nod. No words. What can we say anyway?

  Everyone files out, and I walk hand in hand with Hutton right to the center of the palace steps. Most of the staff has lined up to welcome us home, including Birgit and Gerhart. Birgit smiles so joyfully and then curtsies. She’s the most stubborn woman ever. Privately, I’ve told her never to curtsy for me again. I should be bowing down to her. Warm souls are a rare find. She made me feel as though I belonged when I was floundering. But she insists on respecting my royal title and does it to make sure everyone else does too.

  The large blue and gold doors open, and we enter the grand hall. A gilded coffered ceiling and crystal chandelier larger than Hutton hangs in the center. The architecture and murals never cease to take my breath away. It’s one of my favorite places in the palace. “When I was a young girl, I used to lie in the center of the floor and stare at the little murals in each box of the ceiling.” Hutton looks up. I add, “They’re each a story.”

  “A fable.”

  “Yes. Each represents a different fable.”

  His eyes find the last square protected by the golden beams. “Why is that one blank?”

  “That one is for me and my story.”

  His soothing browns come back to me, and he says, “You’re not fiction.”

  “I will be one day.” I glance at my sister, her words of despair about the people the monarchy sees as irrelevant coming to mind. “We’ll all just be a fable told to the young one day.”

  “That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Why would you choose that life?”

  “I’m not.” My smile returns. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Damn fucking straight.”

  Two soldiers enter from behind us and stand at the base of the stairs. “Really?” Jakob mumbles under his breath.

  My parents appear at the top of the stairs. Jakob is about to step forward, but I feel it’s my duty. I place a hand on his arm, and say, “I’ll take care of it.”

  When I glance at Hutton, he whispers, “You were born for this.” He brings my hand up and kisses the inside of my wrist, and says, “Show them who’s the queen.”

  Marielle and Margie part, allowing me to walk through. Marielle says, “Strong. Brave. Clever. I’m just like my big sister.”

  My soft heart wins, so I look at my friend, who says, “Take back what’s yours.”

  Smiling, I reach out and wrap my pinky around hers. “I intend to.” When hers holds mine in return, I know we’ll be okay.

  Heavy history fills my shoulders with tension when I watch as my parents descend the sta
ircase. I compose myself, holding my weaker emotions in and putting the others on display. Walking toward them, I straighten my shoulders and raise my chin, but this time, I won’t be quiet. “Are the guards necessary? We’re your children.”

  “My mistake,” my father replies. “I took this as a coup.”

  “Revolt maybe, but not a coup.”

  “Semantics, Arabelle.” They stop on the bottom step, I’m sure wanting the height advantage.

  “Princess Arabelle.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You can strip the title, but I’m still your daughter.”

  “Are you? he snaps. “My daughter would obey. Your actions speak as a libertine, a commoner, and then you expect to be treated like royalty. You were named after one of our greatest queens, but you’ve brought dishonor not only to Arabelle but also to the Sutcliffe name and to Brudenbourg. You’re no longer welcome here. Your title and your names will remain in these palace walls. You can retain Allyson and Edwards. The rest are no longer yours to use.”

  “You can’t do that. I know my rights by birth and law. You can exile me but can’t take away my names or my trust funds. Those are mine because I’m of legal age.” Stepping forward, I add, “And don’t think you’ll get away with ghosting me in our country’s history. I will do everything in my power to make sure everyone knows why I’m not the queen.”

  My mother sighs. “I went terribly wrong, Arabelle.”

  “With?” I ask, taking another step closer.

  The guards punch their staffs against the marble floor before crossing them in protection of the queen and prince. They might as well have stabbed me because the pain’s the same.

  I don’t have to turn around to know Hutton’s at my back. I feel his presence inside me as well as surrounding me, helping me hold on to my remaining strength. What I didn’t expect was to hear my brother take my right, and whisper, “You’re strong, sister.”

  That’s when I realize I don’t have to fight this alone, but I also have more strength than I knew. I have theirs too. “Is this what we’ve come to? You fear me?”

  “Move.” My mother steps down after the staffs are brought back vertically in front of each guard. She comes to me despite my father’s protest. Standing in front of me with her hands clasped between us, she says, “I failed in so many ways, my daughter. I failed to lead my country into modern times, to teach my daughters the way of our land, and to be there as the mother you deserved.”

  She looks at my father. “I gave you too much power.” When she turns back to me, she adds, “I didn’t give you enough credit. I never wanted this station in life. I actually loved someone else.”

  “Aemilia!”

  Her hand pops up. “Silence, Werner.”

  She may have given him too much power, but he’s wise enough to know who’s the queen. I want to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. They’ve never been a couple who made public displays of affection. I assumed they cared for each other in private, but they were still a match made by my grandparents. She’s just lucky she fell for him. She says, “I think we should talk. Will you join me in the living room?”

  That’s a room we used to get in trouble for entering when we were little. Full of antiques dating back more than five hundred years, we were always told to touch with our eyes and not our hands. Margie and I would sneak in after tea and before supper and touch everything. I smile from the memory. The carpet gave us away, small footprints dented from our Mary Janes. We’d get grounded, but it was worth it.

  She holds out her elbow, and I take it. But I stop and look back at Hutton. My mother says, “He may join us. Everyone may.”

  I don’t know what she plans on saying once we’re there, but that she’s allowing Hutton to come with us feels like progress has already been made. We walk in silence, our shoes the only sound until we reach that pale pink carpet. I stop and smile, looking back to connect with Margie, who’s also grinning.

  My mother takes a seat, and we file around. I sit closest at one end of the settee. Hutton next to Marielle and me. Jakob stands behind Margie as she sits on the other side and my father walks to the fireplace, leaning against the mantle. “Be careful, Aemilia,” he warns.

  “I’ve spent my whole life being careful. Where did that get me?”

  “Queen,” he responds angrily.

  She blows him off with a swish of her wrist. “I already had that in the bag.” Appearing amused by her comment, she follows with a soft laugh. “Let me get to the point, Arabelle. The prince is not your father.”

  My mind spins, and my body reels back. All composure, gone in an instant. “What are you talking about?”

  “You left too soon for me to stop you. I didn’t get word until you were gone.” Glancing at her husband, she scowls. “Somebody didn’t tell me. I know why, and I’m going against his wishes. You need to know the truth, and I need to release it, finally.” I can see the burden gone from her body as she uncrosses her ankles and sits back, looking more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. “The prince married me knowing I was with child. I married him as long as he agreed to raise you as his own, and if you were a girl that you would become queen. He agreed.”

  I’m not sure what to say, too stunned to ask the questions racing through my head. Hutton does instead. “Where is her father?”

  “Before I say more, let me preface this by making it clear that I love Prince Werner. Werner had held up his end of the deal . . . until the other night. Unlike what you’ve been led to believe, he has no true say when it comes to you or your titles. So I don’t know why he felt he could take anything away.”

  “I was protecting you, Aemilia. I was protecting our traditions and Brudenbourg, and now it’s being used against me.”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” she replies, reminding me of when I say that to Marielle.

  Marielle . . . their daughter together . . . who trumps my biological father, who I presume was a commoner.

  Marielle is the true queen.

  My shoulders fall, and my strength crumbles. I look up and repeat Hutton’s question with tears in my eyes, “Where’s my birth father?”

  “He passed away when you were only one.” Her tone has shifted, sadness punctuating the words.

  “How?”

  She is visibly shaken, her voice matching. “I was told it was a hunting accident.” I was told . . .

  “And you believe that to be true?” My hands are trembling, so Hutton wraps them in his warmth.

  The prince has taken a seat in the far corner, seeming to give in to the implied accusation. When my mother turns to him, she seems surprised. “Werner?”

  “It’s true. He died during a hunt.”

  I ask what my mother and everyone else is too afraid to. “Was he the one hunted?”

  “You’re out of line, Arabelle.”

  The answer is obvious in the non-answer. I feel sick, my arms wrapping around my middle. “When I came back, I didn’t expect this. Everything I was so sure of has now fallen like sand through an hourglass.” I stand, my knees weak under the revelation that I have no claim to the throne much less my name.

  My mother stands. “It’s a lot to take in. I should have told you sooner—”

  “You shouldn’t have told her at all,” my fath—the man who treated me like a hurdle he had to overcome, says. “That man was a commoner. She’s been raised as a princess when I could have sent her away.”

  “Sent away?” I repeat, quiet like a mouse. “That’s why nothing was truly expected of me. That’s why I could be exiled without a second thought.” My gaze darts to the man I once thought loved me. “He had different plans for me all along.”

  My mother says, “You would have never been sent away. Sutcliffe runs in your veins. You’re a princess because you’re my daughter, not because of your father.”

  “I’m not sure what to say. I . . . um.” Hutton stands, and Marielle and Margie follow suit. Hutton’s hand becomes something that helps me remain upright as my wo
rld implodes. I turn to him, craving the safety of his arms, and say, “I never once asked you if you wanted this life, if you wanted to sit by my side, but you came anyway. You came because you love me and you put your needs aside for mine. I don’t know how to thank you for that other than to love you the best I can.”

  “That’s enough. That’s all I ever needed from you. As for my needs, you never had to ask. Whether we’re in New York or your country, I will follow you to the ends of the earth to sit by your side.”

  The broken pieces of my spirit are collected in his embracing love, and my soul feels right again. Whole. The back of my head is stroked, but not by Hutton. My mother says, “Look at me, daughter.”

  When I do, her gaze shifts to Marielle, and a slight but proud smile graces her lips. It’s the same pride she exudes when she sees me. Pinching my chin lightly, her light laughter reaches me. “Quiet is something you were never meant to be.” She takes my hand and leads me to the edge of the room. There she takes my other. “You will be the queen. As my daughter, the claim is yours, your birthright.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You’ve shown me that you’re more than capable. Your courage will lead our tiny nation into the future. Screw the bylaws. Love matters more.”

  My father rushes forward. “No. It’s not hers—”

  The guards standing at the entrance rush between him and us, then stamp their staffs in warning. He stops, shocked. “This is outrageous.”

  “Weapons down. Werner deserves respect. He’s still the crowned prince of Brudenbourg.” Still holding my hand, she says to me, “I love him. I’ve loved him for many years. However, I wasn’t cut out for this job. I look forward to handing over the reins to you to reign.” Amused again, she chuckles. I love this lighter side to my mother. “How do you feel about becoming Queen Arabelle?”

  34

  Hutton

  One week later . . .

  I lean back in my chair, kick my feet up on my desk, and stare out the large windows with the incredible city view of my corner office. Balloons are floating around the ceiling and streamers are strewn across the floor.