by SE Chardou
Trophy
Part One
Copyright © 2015 SE Chardou and Selene Chardou
All rights reserved.
Cover Artist: Elle Chardou
Publisher: Midnight Engel Press, LLC
License Notes:
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Publisher’s Note:
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, resold (as a “used” e-book), stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental. All products mentioned are not an endorsement from the Corporations owned said product and are meant only to enhance novel realization. They are not an endorsement from the author either.
Published Novels by SE Chardou
Trophy, A Serial Trilogy
Part 1
Dance With The Devil Trilogy (Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance)
Devil’s Prey
Devil’s Pawn
Companion Rough Riders MC Novels
The Assassin (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense)
Published Novels by Selene Chardou
The Rough Riders MC Series (Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance)
Ride to Temptation (Cillian & Gisela)
Ride to Chaos (Trey & Kyra)
Ride to Vengeance (Ronan & Naomi)
The Covet Duet (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Women’s Literature)
Covet
The Lovers Duet (New Adult/Romantic Mystery & Suspense/Contemporary Romance)
Out From Under
In Too Deep
DC Affairs (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Politics)
Book 1
Love Unexpected Series (Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance)
Love TKO (Torin Duffy’s story)
Scarlet Fever Series (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Women’s Literature)
Rock My Heart
The Will to Love
One More Night Trilogy (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Women’s Literature)
Falling Into Lust
Falling Into Us
Falling Into Love
Published Novels by Blanche Hardin
Break Her Trilogy (Dark Romance/Psychological Suspense)
Resist
Novels & Novellas by Elle Chardou
The Ties That Bind Trilogy (Contemporary Romance / Romantic Suspense with erotic and BDSM elements)
Killing Time
Killing Inhibitions (Re-issue Spring of 2015)
Killing Me Softly (Re-issue Summer of 2015)
Seasons of Love & Lust Series (Contemporary Romance / Contemporary Women/ New Adult)
A Summer to Remember
Undertow Series (Contemporary Romance / Contemporary Women / New Adult)
Undertow
The Atonement Series (Contemporary Romance / Contemporary Women)
Atonement, A Novel
Only Love
The Vamp Saga (Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy)
Immortal Lair: A Novella (A Prequel to Mortal Death)
The Hart Family Saga (Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy)
Hart Attack
Superstar Marriages Novella Series (Contemporary Romance)
Lara & the City of Angels
The Supernaturals Novella Series (Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy)
Darkness Rising
The Dawn of Darkness
Darkness Awakened
The Cloak of Darkness
The Theft of Darkness
The Plague (Dystopian Romance / Horror)
Beginnings: Book I
The perfect murder.
A young beautiful widow who is now the toast of L.A. society.
Unfortunately she didn't anticipate a particular glitch in her plan.
His name is Dorian Petersson.
And he has become Alyssa O'Neil's worst nightmare.
WARNING: Reader discretion is advised due to adult situations, explicit language, violence, and scenes of alcohol/drug use. This is a serial novella told over three parts. If you’re the type of reader who detests cliffhangers, the whole series will be bundled and sold in anthology form for paperback purposes and also released in e-book form.
Title Page
Current Novels
Table Of Contents
Dedication
Playlist
Prologue – Alyssa
Chapter One – Alyssa
Chapter Two - Dorian
Chapter Three – Alyssa
Chapter Four – Dorian
Chapter Five – Alyssa
Chapter Six – Dorian
Chapter Seven – Alyssa
Chapter Eight – Dorian
Chapter Nine – Alyssa
About The Author
Stalk SE Chardou
Future Novels and Novellas
To all my friends, readers, fans and family. This is one if for you.
“Fucked My Way Up To The Top” – Lana Del Rey
“American Oxygen” – Rihanna
“Loretta Young Silks” – Sneaker Pimps
“Looks Like Sex” – Mike Posner
“Don’t Stop Dancing” – Kaskade feat. EDX & Haley
“Summertime Sadness (Remix)” – Lana Del Rey feat. Cedric Gervais
“Move For Me” – Kaskade feat. Deadmau5 & Haley
“Dangerous” – David Guetta feat. Sam Martin
“Want My Love” – Jes
“Point of No Return” – Starset
“Remember Everything” – Five Finger Death Punch
“Third Day of a Seven Day Binge” – Marilyn Manson
Listen to Trophy Part One Playlist at Spotify!
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“My condolences.”
“Richard Conlon didn’t deserve so little time with you.”
“Mrs. Conlon, please accept my apologies but try to live your life. Rich would have wanted that for you.”
The parade of mourners seemed never ending, and why shouldn’t they be when my husband was one of the most well known producers in the music industry as well as being entertainment biz royalty?
However, if I heard the words, “I’m sorry for your loss,” one more time, I would claw someone’s eyes out.
The bastard deserved to die and I wasn’t sorry for any part I’d played in his “unfortunate” demise.
It wasn’t easy playing the grieving widow, not when I had waited twenty years for this with the patience of someone who didn’t want to be in the eye of a police investigation surrounding my
husband’s expiration.
And clinically, that’s the only way I could think about his death.
The waiting had been the worst part of all.
Fiddling with his medication, and having him take more of a certain medication and less of another was hard work.
The autopsy showed he died of a heart attack. A sixty-five year old man having the time of his life with his thirty-year-old trophy wife—hell, at least he died with a smile on his face.
And no matter what looks I received, that’s what I would forever be known for: Richard Conlon’s second wife. His trophy wife after he’d put the first out to pasture after thirty years of marriage.
She’d been with him throughout the years when he struggled yet I was the one who’d inherited eighty percent of his wealth. The other fifteen percent went to his first wife, and five percent went to medical research for causes he strongly believed in supporting.
Steena Conlon knew not to fight me on behalf of his Estate, not when I’d offered her an extra fifteen percent cut from what he left me out of the goodness of my heart. It was more than adequate since she split her time between her home country of Sweden and a chic Parisian apartment in one of the most desirable neighborhoods in the city.
Eventually, the revelers left and I was stuck in Richard’s old school yet fashionably conscious mansion in Bel Air. The place did nothing for me with its extensive collection of high art, timeless furniture and marble floors. Even now, I hated this place and couldn’t wait to put it on the market but I would have to stay in this empty tomb for at least a year. It would give me more than enough time to settle all debts, let his money make more money, and retire the staff with dignity and pride.
If only my parents would have been around to see how well I’d done for myself after all their false starts and chances at fame in their lifetimes.
No one loved sensationalism as much as the American public, and I would rather be known as Richard Conlon’s late wife than the child of a Bradley O’Neil. My father had killed my mother after she’d come home from one of her many trysts and then shot himself in the head.
I was ten years old.
From then on, I was one of the lucky children trapped in the system known as Child Protective Services. I was described by my caseworker as quiet, striking, and compliant despite my age. My consummate acting skills allowed me to be placed with a very loving foster family who weren’t drunks, drug addicts or trying to take the system for a “ride.”
They fell in love with me instantly, and shortly after placement, my foster family petitioned the courts to adopt me since I had no surviving family. Their wishes were met without a hitch and for a long time, I was known as Alyssa Richards. The O’Neil last name was wiped away like used toilet paper but I would eventually seek out my birthright and claim my real last name eventually.
The downside was I’d grown up in a very strict Mormon background along the Eastside hills of Las Vegas. I knew the Book of Mormon back to back, and although my parents weren’t the fanatical type, I still attended Mormon schools, graduated from Bringham Young University with a Bachelor of Science in Accounting and a Minor in French language.
I made my foster parents very happy and though they didn’t agree with me moving to Los Angeles so soon after graduating, it’s exactly what I did. My accounting degree opened doors in the entertainment world that would have been closed off because for once, I was a beautiful and intelligent young woman using my brain to get ahead.
It was clinical, boring work but it also gave me access to the fabulous parties and the most influential people in the movie and music business. I enjoyed the looks of shock and horror on the old guys’ faces when I told them what I did for a living as opposed to being an aspiring musician/actress/model/whatever.
My job also allowed me access to personal information for some of the wealthiest men and women in the City of Angels but I was only interested in one particular name from the start: Richard Conlon.
It had taken some persistence on my part and my Mormon adopted parents would have been ashamed at my behavior but he eventually noticed me, wined and dined me, and treated me with the utmost respect. My first real moment of the power I could do with my feminine wiles came when he asked me to marry him.
The wedding was very much like the marriage: uptight, orchestrated and only the crème de la crème were invited. I didn’t mind. It was only six years of my life and I was still a young a vibrant woman at the age of thirty; I also had something that were considered major commodities when it came to relationships in Los Angeles.
Money and power.
I was the one in control now and woe betide anyone who forgot it.
That evening after the funeral, I cracked open a bottle of Cristal champagne and drank it while binge-watching episodes of Empire I’d missed out on. I truly did love the music business though I had no talent to speak of other than a brain like a calculator, and the soul of Judas even the Devil himself would envy.
It was true: something had changed when my parents died.
Some part of me had perished at ten years of age right along with them and although I’d finally gotten retribution, it felt as empty and cold as the mansion I now resided in alone.
I waited more than the allotted time before I entered the party scene again but it couldn’t have happened soon enough. There was only so much working out, and binge-watching television a woman could do before she started to go stir crazy.
I’d reached that point shortly into my first week living on my own in that big, cold, empty estate. However, I had to play it off for an additional few weeks before I could do anything about it.
The Saturday night I decided to go out on my own, I’d been researching brand new clubs on the Westside. I had no interest in running into anyone from the staid, uptight crowd I’d frequented with my deceased husband. For once, I wanted to go out and have some fun.
A new club had opened near Century City—Fantasy—and the name alone had me foaming at the mouth like an epileptic. According to the website, it was the brainchild of DoPe, also known as Dorian Petersson. He was one of the most requested and highest paid DJs in the world along with being an often sought-out producer. The most famous artists in pop, R&B and hip-hop often requested the services of Dorian to turn a mediocre song into a club anthem.
Along with Calvin Harris, David Guetta, Zedd, Armin van Buuren, Tiësto, and Kaskade, he was a legend in the progressive house and dance community. He’d remixed songs by many high profile artists including Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Rihanna, and Chyna Bleu.
Although DoPe was his moniker and the name he used as a producer, his two locations of Fantasy—the first opened inside Vogue Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas—were operated under his legal name. I’d seen photos of him, and at the youthful age of twenty-eight, he was a musical genius who was as popular with the ladies as he was with musicians seeking a remix of their latest hits.
I didn’t expect to run into him at his club but if we did, it would be a happy coincidence he’d remember for the rest of his life. After years of screwing a geriatric, it would be fun to have sex with a guy who belonged to the same jaded Millennial generation as myself, even if I was two years older than him.
I’d just showered, bathed myself in the perfumed scent of Hypnotic Poison that complimented the little black Dior dress I wore and a classy pair of midnight blue sky-high Christian Louboutins. My evening bag matched my shoes perfectly and I’d just fluffed out my long wavy hair when a knock sounded at my door.
I rolled my eyes out of frustration. Only the help ever knocked, and if they were disturbing me on a Saturday night then it couldn’t be good.
“Yes?” I shouted out as I applied deep red lipstick to my face. It was the only compliment I’d given my olive skin along with a naked brush of cover-up and mascara.
I knew I was a beautiful woman but I’d never relied on my good looks to get anything in life. Like everything else, they would eventually fade but I would have my sharp brain and
cunning skills for a long time to come.
Esmeralda opened the double doors to my suite. “Señora, sorry to disturb you but Señor Conlon’s doctor is here to see you.”
It took all the control inside of me not to smirk before I turned toward her and replied, “Let him in.”
Dr. Campbell Richards entered the suite and closed the door in Esmeralda’s face without preamble before he waltzed toward me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper-shouted. “You’re not even supposed to be around anymore. Isn’t that what we have our phones for?”
Cam stared at me with those gorgeous seaweed green eyes in a lightly tanned face surrounded by the most gorgeous hair the color of chestnut brown. He was a good-looking man who worked out on a regular basis and was taller than me by six inches but with my high-heels on, we were almost the same height.
“I was worried about you, Aly. No one has heard from you since the funeral and well . . . Mom and Dad wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself.”
I hated when he referred to our adopted parents as “Mom and Dad”—they were his biological parents but they sure as fuck weren’t mine. Not to mention we hadn’t had a proper brother-sister relationship since I’d reached puberty.
Funny, I always thought I’d hit the jackpot when a Mormon family adopted me but they were just as twisted and unexpected as the rest of us mere mortals. My beloved brother, who was supposed to wait until his wedding day—had been fucking me since I was fourteen and he was seventeen. Of course there was no one to tell because I would have been tossed out on the streets and there was no way the perfect and gorgeous Campbell Richards would have done anything to jeopardize his stellar reputation in the Community.
When my biological parents died, they hadn’t just ended their own lives but they’d put me on a course for revenge that would change my life forever. Twenty years was a long time to wait for revenge but I’d done the dirty deed, and now my talented husband was nothing more than ashes in an urn interred at a posh cemetery in Bel Air.
