Sinful Palace: Ruthless Rulers Book 2

by Hart, Stella

  Sinful Palace

  Ruthless Rulers Book 2

  Stella Hart

  Copyright © 2019 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.

  Contents

  1. Willow

  2. Logan

  3. Willow

  4. Willow

  5. Willow

  6. Willow

  7. Willow

  8. Willow

  9. Willow

  10. Logan

  11. Willow

  12. Willow

  13. Willow

  14. Logan

  15. Logan

  16. Logan

  17. Willow

  18. Logan

  19. Willow

  20. Willow

  21. Logan

  22. Willow

  More Information

  Also by Stella Hart

  1

  Willow

  The gunshot roared through the cold night air, almost deafening me. I fell to my knees with an agonized cry.

  For a terrifying moment, I was paralyzed on the cold ground, limbs frozen with terror. My ears kept ringing from the shot as dizzy nausea bubbled up in my throat, and I panted like an animal, struggling to fill my lungs with air.

  There was no pain. I was completely numb. I knew I’d been shot, though. I didn’t imagine the gun going off.

  It had to be shock. I’d read articles about people who didn’t even realize they’d been shot for several minutes after the incident due to systemic shock. Now it was happening to me.

  With a whimper, I clawed at my face and neck before moving down to my chest and abdomen. There were no gaping holes in me. No blood. Teddy must’ve missed.

  I finally opened my eyes and let out a sharp yelp at the sight before me. Teddy was lying on the concrete path in front of me, lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

  Blood oozed from a singular bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Even more blood was leaking out and pooling around the back of his head, a sticky, inky mess in the darkness.

  I jerked my head up and around to see Logan standing behind me. He held a pistol in one hand, jaw clenched as he stared at his friend’s body.

  “You,” was all I managed to choke out.

  He turned his gaze to me. Then he dropped the gun, strode over to me and pulled me off the ground in one rough movement. He slammed me up against the shipping container on my left, and I let out a gasp as the back of my neck hit the cold metal. The sound was smothered as Logan dug his nails into my shoulders and kissed me.

  His kiss was equal parts frantic and anguished, tongue sliding in and hitting all the right spots. Despite everything that had just happened, along with the dead body of his friend lying only inches away, my tension melted away and butterflies filled my belly. I lost all composure and wrapped my arms around him, moaning into his mouth as he kissed me with everything he had.

  He held me even tighter, devouring my lips with passion and longing, pulling me against his hard, muscular chest. I sighed as he briefly moved his hot mouth to my neck, and then I let out another moan as his tongue dived into my mouth again.

  My body was ablaze with a desire I’d never known. More than anything, I wanted Logan to hold me like this. Kiss me. Roughly grope me with those big hands. Take away all the fear and confusion.

  He suddenly broke the kiss and pulled away, breathing heavily as he wiped his face and pressed his lips together in a grimace. When he dropped his hands, the chest-wracking chills returned, my body instantly feeling the absence of his touch. My mouth dried up as he turned away and stepped over to Teddy’s body.

  What the hell just happened?

  What did it mean?

  Shock and confusion coursed through me, making me tremble and struggle for breath again as my knees buckled. I sank down by the shipping container, eyes never leaving Logan as he crouched over Teddy, head slightly shaking.

  After a minute, he rose and headed farther up the walkway between the containers, right up to the old pier by the water’s edge. I saw him grab an old rusted anchor that was lying next to a metal barrel on the pier, and then he returned to Teddy’s body.

  He wrapped the clanking anchor chain around Teddy’s legs and locked it in place. Then he hoisted him into his arms, dragged him over to the pier, and dumped him in the murky water with a pained grunt. The anchor scraped against the pier with a horrible grinding sound before slipping into the water as well. I cringed at the sound of the heavy splashes, unable to stop myself from picturing Teddy’s body sinking to the bottom of the bay.

  Logan returned to me, face expressionless. He held out one hand. “Phone.”

  With a shaky hand, I pulled out the cracked iPhone and gave it to him. He returned to the pier and hurled it into the water along with Teddy’s briefcase. Then he strode back over to me and grabbed me by my left arm.

  He didn’t say another word to me as he dragged me through the various lanes in the port. I didn’t say anything to him, either. I couldn’t think of the right words to express how I felt, and even if I could, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get them out. I was still finding it difficult to breathe, and burning tears were clouding my vision. If I opened my mouth to speak, I would probably start crying or hyperventilating.

  When we reached the edge of the abandoned port, Logan gestured to his car. “Get in,” he said tersely, eyes not meeting mine.

  I quietly slipped into the front passenger seat, swallowing the lump in my throat and squaring my shoulders in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. Chin quivering, I turned to Logan. “You saved me.”

  “Shut the hell up,” he muttered, still refusing to look at me.

  He turned the car on and tore down the road. Hot tears started streaming down my face, but I didn’t make a sound.

  My body kept shaking like mad, and I wrapped my arms around myself, eyes stinging as tears continued to leak out. Beads of perspiration popped up on my face, covering it in a thin sheen of sweat and mixing with the tears.

  I was a total mess, but who could blame me after what I just witnessed?

  My head ached like mad, and my heart seemed to beat in my throat as I tried and failed to conquer the shock and remorse blooming in my chest like a dark, deadly vine. It was relentless, wrapping around my insides and constricting each breath until a strangled moan slipped out of my mouth.

  I couldn’t stop picturing Teddy’s ashen face and lifeless eyes, or the bloody hole in his head. It all happened because of me. Trouble and danger just seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Or maybe I simply invited it with every bad choice I made.

  Another choked moan escaped my mouth. Logan remained silent, eyes on the road ahead. It felt like we’d been driving for hours, but the clock said only three minutes had passed. I closed my eyes and kept dragging air into my aching lungs, leaning my head against the cool window in an attempt to calm myself.

  When I opened my eyes again, I saw that we’d just gone past the turnoff for Route 50.

  “You missed the turnoff,” I murmured.

  Logan shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

  “But that’s the way back.”

  He shot me a dark look before turning his stony gaze back to the road. A bolt of fear shot through me, making my stomach churn, and I pressed my elbows into my sides, trying to make myself as small as possible as reality dawned on me.

  We weren’t going back to the city.

  We weren’t going home.

  I assumed Logan
chose to save me over his friend because he wanted me alive, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Maybe the kiss back at the port was some sort of twisted goodbye kiss. Maybe he was sick and tired of all the trouble I caused. Maybe it was easier to just get rid of me, so he was taking me somewhere to dispose of me. Somewhere I’d never be found.

  I began to cry in earnest, sobs and tremors wracking my body as endless questions filled my mind.

  Where the hell were we going? Why didn’t he just find another anchor and dump me in the bay with Teddy if he wanted me gone? Did he want to torture me for hours first, but then he realized doing it out in the open at the old port was probably a bad idea in case someone happened to come along? Or did he have a specific burial place in mind all along?

  “Don’t kill me,” I blubbered, lifting my teary gaze to Logan. “Don’t. Don’t do it. Don’t kill me!”

  I knew I was repeating myself. I knew I sounded insane. I couldn’t stop the words from bubbling up my throat and tumbling out of my mouth.

  The car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. Logan leaned over and put a firm hand on my knee. “I told you to shut the fuck up,” he growled.

  His eyes were ablaze with anger, making chills race through my veins. “Please,” I whispered brokenly. “Don’t kill me.”

  He yanked his hand away and shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you.”

  Relief flooded me instantly. I dragged in a deep breath. “Where are we going?” I dared to ask.

  “Well, we can’t go home, because a certain someone set the fucking place on fire. It’s probably still burning as we speak,” Logan replied, eyes narrowing. “So I’m taking you to stay somewhere else until it’s fixed up.”

  Guilt stabbed at my guts as I pictured the inferno at Thorne House. I wondered if everyone got out. If they were all unscathed.

  Logan seemed to know what I was thinking, because he nodded and muttered a curt “They’re fine,” before turning the car on again, jaw tightly clenched.

  “I’m sorry for what I did,” I whispered.

  He ignored me and pressed his foot down on the accelerator, tearing down the road so fast I wanted to throw up. I still had no idea where we were going, but I was too scared to ask again. Logan was furious. I could tell by his corded neck and flaring nostrils, and the way his knuckles had turned white as he gripped the steering wheel.

  I leaned back and looked out at the night sky, letting the fear of what would happen next wash over me.

  2

  Logan

  Willow quivered in the seat next to me, eyes facing the windscreen as she stared vacantly into space. She was paler than usual, understandably, and every bare inch of skin was coated in sweat. Her gray jacket was flecked with little dots of blood.

  I turned my gaze back to the road and sped up, needing this ride to be over already. I didn’t want to look at Willow again. I couldn’t.

  Why the fuck did I kiss her back there?

  I hated her, but in that moment, an extraordinarily powerful urge overtook me. I had to protect her and hold her close. Touch her. Drown myself in her.

  Why?

  “Logan,” she murmured a few minutes later.

  “What?” I said, wishing she’d stop trying to talk to me.

  “How did you find me?”

  My brows furrowed. “Did you forget the tracking device around your neck?”

  “No. I mean, how did you find me so fast?” she replied. “How did you realize I was missing? The fire was meant to distract you so you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

  I let out a deep sigh. Clearly, Willow wasn’t going to give up until I told her everything.

  “When Adam came in to help us get Chloe and my parents out, I figured you’d been left alone outside,” I began. “It occurred to me that you might try to run, but at the time I was too distracted to do anything about it. It all went quicker than I thought, though. We got out of there within fifteen minutes, just as the fire trucks started to show up.”

  I paused and risked a short glance at Willow. She wasn’t looking at me, but I could still see the guilt etched into her face.

  “I knew you were gone before I even looked for you. I just knew it,” I went on. “So I checked the tracking app on my phone. It said you were fifteen miles away, heading east. At first I thought it was a GPS error. There was no way you could’ve made it that far on foot in fifteen minutes, and it wasn’t like you had a phone to call a cab. Then I remembered.”

  “The iPhone,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to her lap.

  I grunted, cursing myself for being so thoughtless. “Yeah. Stupid fucking mistake. I assumed it was broken. But then I realized I never actually checked properly. So I logged back into the remote access app on my own phone, and lo and behold, there it was. You’d rescued it from the maid, and you’d been using it for the last two days. I read your messages, and that’s when I knew the tracking app wasn’t wrong.”

  “How did you get to the port in time to catch me when you were so far behind?”

  “I fucking sped the whole way,” I said, gripping the steering wheel even tighter as I rounded a bend. “How else?”

  “Oh. Right.” Her voice was barely above a murmur now.

  “When I arrived, I saw you slinking into one of those alleys between the containers. I followed you, but I went a slightly different way. I wanted to know who the fuck we were dealing with before I did anything.”

  “So you knew it was a set-up. That’s why you brought the gun.”

  I shook my head. “I had no idea if it was a set-up or not. But I knew there was a chance. That’s why I brought it.” I paused and exhaled deeply. “When I finally caught up, you were standing there with your hands in the air, and Teddy had that gun pointed at you. I heard everything.”

  A bitter taste filled my mouth, and my lips pressed into a grimace as I remembered what I’d done. Teddy had flicked off the safety on his pistol, and with that little clicking sound, instinct took over. Before he could pull the trigger, I put a bullet in his head.

  I knew I wouldn’t miss. All intelligence analysts at Caldwell went through mandatory firearms training during the hiring process.

  “Why did you do it?” Willow asked, turning her tormented gaze back to me.

  “Do what?” I replied, even though I already knew exactly what she meant. This question had been coming ever since I pulled the trigger. I’d been dreading it.

  She sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Why didn’t you let him kill me?” she said, voice cracking with emotion. “Why did you choose me over him? He was one of your best friends, and I’m your worst enemy.”

  My upper lip curled. “I’m well aware of that.”

  The same question had plagued my mind since I shot Teddy. Why the fuck did I save Willow from him when I hated her so much? Not only had she tried to kill my sister five years ago, she’d now put my whole family in danger with this fire situation.

  Deep down, I knew Teddy (or whoever he hired to do the job) was the one who set the fire at the house, and he was the one who chose to light it near Chloe’s room, knowing how that would affect me. But he only did it to cause a lengthy distraction in order to help Willow escape the house. She asked for that, so she was equally responsible.

  That begged the question once more. Why did I shoot Teddy? Why didn’t I let him kill her?

  I thought back to the urge that overtook me at the port, and regret seeped through my veins as I grudgingly acknowledged what it meant. Somehow, for no discernible reason, I must’ve actually grown to care about the girl next to me.

  When I saw my so-called friend standing there ready to murder her in cold blood, I experienced a jolt of something I hadn’t felt since I was called into the hospital for my sister five years ago.

  Fear.

  With that panic and desperation lighting a fire in my blood, I couldn’t help but spring into action to save Willow. As much as I wished it wasn’t true, deep down I knew I wouldn’t have done
that or felt that for anyone but her.

  Shit.

  Willow wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me after the horrible things she’d done. She was supposed to be my toy. My little fuckdoll. My slave. Not a person I gave a fuck about. Certainly not a person I’d shoot my friend over.

  I gritted my teeth at the thought. I hated this. Hated that I actually cared for her, despite everything she’d done. Hated that I’d killed for her.

  Anger at the sickening realization simmered in my guts, and I pressed my lips into a thin line as I tried to push the feelings aside. I couldn’t let this happen. I needed to put the mask back on. Bury the feelings deep. Stay cold and detached.

  You don’t really care about her, a little voice whispered in the back of my mind. It was just a primal instinct. You saw a woman in distress and your inner caveman came out. It drove you to save her and comfort her with that embrace. It doesn’t mean you actually have feelings for her.

  Yes. That had to be it. I didn’t actually care about her. Not one bit. I just saved her in a moment of raw instinct when the lizard part of my brain took control.

  That thought comforted me. Lessened the guilt.

  Also, now that I was really thinking about it, it actually made sense for me to choose Willow over Teddy. It was the path of least resistance.

  Everyone knew Teddy had completely lost his shit after his father’s death. He’d barely eaten in months, his nose was frequently buried in a mound of coke, and whenever he wasn’t high and acting like an asshole, he was drunk and acting like an idiot. If he vanished, his family and friends would be upset, but they’d understand in the end. As dark and dismal as it sounded, they’d probably assume he wandered off somewhere to kill himself. While there’d be a lot of grieving, there wouldn’t be any outrage or media furor over his disappearance.