by Rina Kent
We exchange business cards and I try not to grin. Acquiring Ethan’s with his personal phone number on it is like hitting the jackpot.
“I told you about her,” Agnus adds.
He told him about me?
Yes!
My victory dance is halted when I perceive the pause in Ethan’s features. He’s the emperor of Steel Corporation, mid-forties, and has a presence so strong, you’re tempted to stop and look at him. It’s not the intrusive type, though. It’s more like the welcoming type where you just have to get in his vicinity.
That’s why he’s the most fitting candidate to help me out. He was in a coma for nine years, and since he returned almost three years ago, he’s been investing in small companies and building back his empire by using several investments in different fields.
The fact that he’s pausing isn’t good. Please don’t tell me he’ll act as if he’s seen a ghost like his daughter and Aiden did.
“Ms Harper.” He takes my hand a places a kiss at the back of it, never cutting eye contact. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Phew.
“The pleasure is all mine, and please, Aurora is fine. Congratulations on your daughter’s wedding, Mr Steel.”
“Ethan is fine. Agnus tells me you sell watches?”
Thank you, Agnus. I throw him a grateful glance and focus back on Ethan. “Yes. In fact, it’s my passion.”
“How so?”
I motion at his wristwatch. “That must’ve cost a fortune, but do you know why?”
“The brand.”
“Yes, brand awareness. But also, the work the brand established to have said awareness. Your watch is custom-made to fit your wrist size and be comfortable, even if you spend twelve hours in the office and then a few more hours at dinners or parties. It’s there to help you get through your day, but it remains unnoticed. Almost like background motivation.”
“Impressive.” He glimpses at his right-hand man.
“I told you,” Agnus says with the same blank face.
“Let’s make a toast.” Ethan raises his glass. “To background motivation.”
“To background motivation.” I raise my flute in return, a wide grin on my face.
I did it.
I’m saving the company.
All I have to do is keep up with pleasantries, offer him another custom-made, and move on to business talk.
I have no time to waste. Countless people in H&H look up to me and I will not let them down.
“I’ll go get another drink.” Agnus nods at us before disappearing out of view.
That leaves only Ethan and me. I smile, even though I prefer having Agnus around. He’s a great backup, considering he did most of the work for me. I may not click with him emotionally, considering he doesn’t really have those types of connections with women – or any human being, but I’ll be forever grateful for the help he offered.
Ethan leans closer, his features welcoming but concentrated. “Tell me more about the business side.”
As I’m about to start, my mind rushes with all the pitches I’ve spent a long time preparing.
I lift my head slightly and my smile disappears when my gaze collides with sinister grey eyes.
Killer eyes.
His presence rips me from the now and slams me to eleven years in the past.
I’m back to that day, catching my breath at the side of the road. I broke to pieces and I’m still unable to pull myself together again.
He is one of the reasons I never will.
Jonathan King.
A ruler in this world.
An actual king who holds more power than the queen herself.
My worst enemy.
2
Jonathan
Ghosts are supposed to stay where they belong.
Dead.
So why the fuck is that ghost looking at me as if she’s ready to drag me with her to the grave?
In my world, it’s the other way around. I’m the one who drags things — and people — to wherever I please.
It’s bad enough that I have to be in Ethan’s house to celebrate my son’s marriage to his daughter — which I still don’t think is the brightest decision Aiden’s made.
I don’t need the situation made worse with this…ghost.
If I hadn’t seen Alicia dead with my own eyes, I would believe she’d somehow resurrected.
Perhaps she’s returned for vengeance. Perhaps it’s time for her to serve justice.
Only, what’s justice? If everyone’s perception of that word is different, whose truth is the real truth?
For me, justice doesn’t exist. It’s a useless word the politically correct folk have picked up to put their little minds at ease.
Justice is a delusion in a world where the likes of me grip the reins of power with ruthless hands.
I don’t believe in justice. My father did, and he died still searching for it. What did justice give him? Fucking condolences, that’s what.
Since then, I’ve built my kingdom with merciless methods and brought justice to its knees right in front of me.
That’s where everyone who defies me belongs. On their fucking knees.
Alicia — or her doppelgänger — stands around a table with Ethan, drinking from a flute of champagne. Her dainty fingers painted red surround the glass with infinite elegance.
She’s the same. From her dress and uptight posture to the curve of her neck and the softness of her cheeks. Her inky black hair and her petite nose. Even the contours of her full mouth.
It’s all a replica.
One thing is wrong, though. Or more accurately, two.
One, the red lipstick. Alicia would never put that on.
Two, the colour of her eyes. It’s like dark blue skies right after a war.
Or right before a storm.
As it seems, wars and storms are my specialities. If there’s a chance to disturb someone’s peace and grab what’s there for the taking, I don’t hesitate.
Contrary to common belief, I’m not heartless. I’m relentless. I don’t stop until both the war and the storm end in my favour.
If they don’t, they might as well go on until they fall to their knees in front of me – like everyone else.
For the first time in a decade, I don’t act first.
I stop.
I watch.
I savour the moment and the shock value of it.
She surprised me, I’ll give her that.
I don’t like surprises — unless I’m the one who issues them.
It takes me a moment to separate what’s in front of me from what I already know.
The reality from the past.
The truth from the imagination.
And it is her.
Not Alicia.
But someone so close, she managed to slip from under my radar for years.
Fucking years.
I thought she died in a hole somewhere, or that she pissed off to another corner of the world.
Turns out, neither are the case. She’s here in my empire. Right under my nose.
She appeared out of thin air like a fucking ghost.
Does she think she’ll slip between my fingers this easily? Or that she can escape me in my own territory?
Now that I’m past the haze and thinking more rationally, I recall the first and last time I met her.
It was at my wedding to Alicia.
A little girl with barely brushed hair ran into me, lifted up her huge sparkling eyes and her mouth formed into an ‘O’. Her first words to me were, “I’m sorry, sir.”
She’ll be more than sorry now.
She’ll wish she’d stayed far away from my kingdom.
That lowlife Ethan must’ve played a part in this, but he’ll also pay. And it’ll be by using her.
The ghost.
The sneak.
My dead wife’s little sister.
3
Aurora
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
He wa
sn’t supposed to come now, of all times.
My gaze is held captive by his darker, grim one. He doesn’t even blink or show any reaction.
Jonathan stands a small distance away, but he might as well be wrapping his hands around my throat in a tight noose.
A sharp tux flatters his broad frame and highlights his long legs. It’s almost as if he’s in his late thirties instead of his mid-forties. His appearance is taut, hard, and fierce — like everything about him.
His midnight-coloured hair is styled back, revealing a strong forehead and an angular jawline that could cut me in half if I get any nearer. A slight stubble covers his face, giving him an older, harsher, and untouchable feel.
The king.
Literally.
Figuratively.
It’s more than his last name and all about his power that knows no limits.
The queen? Forget about her. She does nothing in the real world. It’s the likes of Jonathan King who toys with the economy like it’s his personal chessboard.
The prime minister? Forget about him, too. Jonathan was the main sponsor of his campaign and that should explain everything about how far his influence can reach. It’s scary to think what else he could have under his control.
Or if there’s anything that isn’t.
Of all things, running into Jonathan King is the risk I took when I came to the wedding of his son — my nephew — who doesn’t even know I exist.
Here’s hoping Jonathan doesn’t either. We only met that one time, during his wedding to Alicia. There was also that phone call, but it was so long ago. Surely he doesn’t remember me.
I remember him, though. I don’t think it’s possible to erase the few memories I have of him.
Jonathan has a presence that creeps up on you out of the blue and soon enough, it takes over everything in your surroundings. It’s the bombing from an aeroplane.
The sound of thunder.
The eruption of a volcano.
And that? That’s not even close to forgettable. For so many people, meeting Jonathan is the highlight of their existence.
At his wedding, I was young. Seven. He was twenty-four. But I clearly recall how larger than life he looked.
Like a god.
I couldn’t stop staring at him while hiding behind Alicia’s wedding dress. I dug my little fingers into the cloth and peeked up at him, making her laugh in that radiant way that warmed my chest. She told me I didn’t need to hide and that he was family now.
I did, though.
Because he was a god, and gods have wrath so brutal, it eradicates everyone in their path.
If Jonathan was larger than life then, he’s now a force not to be reckoned with. He’s the fury whose path I don’t want to walk through, no matter how much I hate him for what he did to Alicia.
Maybe he’s forgotten about me. It’s possible, right? Alicia’s been dead for eleven years and I last met him twenty years ago.
Stay calm.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Jonathan strides towards me with steps so strong, it’s almost as if I can feel them in my bones.
He stands beside me. Not beside Ethan — me.
The itch to touch my wristwatch rises to the forefront of my psyche, but I shut it down as fast as I can possibly manage.
Jonathan’s not close to the point of invading my personal space, but he’s close enough that I can smell his strong, distinctive scent that for some foolish reason, I still recall.
Back then, I didn’t know how to categorise that scent except for it being so addictive. Now, I recognise it as spicy and woodsy. Jonathan is all about power, even in the way he smells.
It shows in his entire appearance. The specially tailored suits with diamond cuffs. The custom-made Italian shoes. The luxury Swiss watch.
Everything about him says without words, ‘I’m not a man to be crossed.’
If anyone tries, I have no doubt he’d crush them under the sole of his leather shoes.
“Jonathan,” Ethan greets with a tone so dispassionate, I feel the subtle aggression behind it.
“Ethan.” The deep tenor of his voice hits my skin like a whip.
I tighten my fingers around the champagne flute, and that’s when I realise how my head has been bowed since he started standing here.
My sole attention is on the blue watch strapped on his wrist. Watches are my speciality, my passion, and they usually boost me with confidence.
Not today.
Today I feel like I bet myself and lost. I made a risk and it’s now biting me in the arse.
If only I had just kept my accountant on a leash and checked everything he did, he wouldn’t have stolen the company’s funds and left us with bankruptcy flags in the distance.
I trusted him. We all did.
We’re a family at H&H. We started so small and we grew in the span of a couple of years. We began to take bigger contracts and were given better exhibition opportunities. We were ready to take it to the next level until Jake ruined everything.
Then we had to beg for investors when we always thought we were above them. However, the moment they found out about the numbers and that our next product was a gamble, they pulled back.
The bank refused to give us any more loans, considering the amount we already owe them.
Ethan is my last resort before I have to cut back on employees and eventually announce bankruptcy and kill the dream I started with my own bare hands.
The thought alone makes me lose sleep.
“Who’s your company?” Jonathan asks Ethan with an unreadable tone.
I release a breath. This means he doesn’t recognise me, right?
Ethan smiles, but it’s projecting the exact opposite of what a smile should. Instead of being welcoming, it’s downright ominous. “I don’t see why that should concern you.”
“Is that so?” Jonathan’s gaze falls back on me. I feel it without having to look up. And I won’t look up. That’s like signing my own death certificate.
He’s studying me. Actually, no. It’s more like he’s sampling me before he pounces like a hungry predator.
Only, I’m not his prey.
It’s been a long time since I swore to never be anyone’s prey again.
I already brought down one predator in my life and I’ll do it all over again if I have to. Consequences and nightmares be damned.
However, having Jonathan King as an opponent is the last thing I want. There’s being brave and then there’s being downright foolish.
Challenging the king in his kingdom is the latter.
It’s how messengers sent by monarchs got their heads chopped off and hanged on the entry of the capital for everyone to see.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Ethan says, “Aurora was in the midst of telling me something.”
“Aurora,” Jonathan muses. “That’s not the right name, though, is it?”
Shit.
Fuck.
Damn it!
I feel as if I’m about to vomit my guts out as I peek up at him. He’s watching me with a cool, almost manic expression that betrays nothing of his thoughts. But I can feel it loud and clear.
He knows.
He remembers.
My fingers shake around the flute and it takes everything in me to place it on the table without spilling it and making a fool out of myself.
“Did you not hear the part where you should excuse us?” Ethan raises a brow.
“I did. Though, as it happens, I don’t take orders.” Jonathan is speaking to Ethan, but his entire attention falls on me.
Impenetrable.
Unemotional.
Unmoving.
With each passing second, his focus hones, turning harsher and darker. If anything, it becomes lethal with the intention of destruction.
A god about to unleash his wrath.
I need out of here. Now.
Plastering on a smile, I face Ethan. “I’ll go search for Agnus. I have your card, so is it okay
if I call you?”
“I have yours. I’ll be the one to call.”
“Thank you.” I barely acknowledge Jonathan with an unintelligible nod as I turn around and stride out of the scene.
It takes everything in me not to run and give away my discomfort or the sense of how royally I fucked up.
This is bad. No. It can be disastrous to everything I’ve spent years building while I carefully stayed in the shadows so I didn’t get noticed.
I’ve ruined everything in one night.
As soon as I’m in the pool area, I avoid Aiden, which isn’t super hard. He’s slowly dancing with his bride, her head hidden by his shoulder as he rests his chin on top of her hair.
For a second, I stop and stare at the scene, at how serene and happy they both appear. It’s similar to Alicia and Jonathan’s wedding day twenty years ago. Although…Jonathan didn’t dance. I suspect whether the tyrant even knows how.
I pull myself out of my stupor and sneak to the car park.
So I lied.
I wasn’t going to find Agnus. That meant I would’ve had to linger around, and there’s no way in hell I was spending a minute longer in Jonathan’s vicinity.
As for my other side of the plan? Now that I broke the ice with Ethan, we can have a meeting at his company, and hopefully, I won’t have to see Jonathan again in this lifetime.
He’ll be on his throne and I’ll go back to my small corner of London that he doesn’t focus on. Being a ruler means he doesn’t care to look at insignificant presences, and that’s exactly where I plan to stay.
I don’t ask any of the staff to bring my car and, instead, quicken my pace towards it, not sparing a glance behind me.
If you don’t look behind, no one finds you.
Or so you think.
I shake my head at that sinister voice. His voice. The devil I’m acquainted with.
My fingers are unsteady as I pull out my keys from my bag. I push the button on my car keys, causing my Toyota to unlock with a beep.
The moment I open the door, a hand comes from beside my head and slams it shut. I flinch as the same strong woodsy scent I’ve never forgotten invades my nostrils.
