by Nikki Wild
Whatever it was, it didn’t look good.
“Dalton Carlyle,” he spoke, letting his tone carry his grave disappointment, “you have disgraced this family beyond all reasonable doubt. I hereby fully renounce you from the Carlyle Fortune.”
“Yeah, I knew that was coming the second I opened my mouth,” Dalton smirked. “If you think endangering my future to be with the woman I love is reason enough, then you can keep the stupid money.”
“You realize, of course, that the moment my will is rectified, you will be forever barred from this inheritance, just like your father before you.”
“That’s always been the problem with you, hasn’t it, darling Grandfather?” Dalton asked. “You turned on your son when you thought he’d strayed down the wrong path… he pulled himself back, rebuilt his life, and made something of himself without you OR your goddamn money, and you never, ever considered reconciling with him… even after he lost his sister…”
William squirmed slightly in his chair, but nobody else was paying attention to him at the moment.
“You have always thought of yourself as having some sort of moral high ground,” Dalton continued, “but here’s the thing: you are the most selfish, conceited son of a bitch I have ever had the misfortune of knowing… and it’s a real shame, too.”
“Is it?” Raleigh asked apathetically.
“It is,” Dalton confirmed. “Because I’ve never really had grandparents. You’ve seen to that personally. The few times you two were ever around, it was always to pressure me into meeting your ridiculous expectations… tell me, Grandfather, what other family do you have?”
He remained silent.
“That’s what I thought… we’re it, aren’t we? We are the only people in the world that you can turn to as you grow old, and you’ve pushed us away…”
“I will not stand here and listen to this bullshit,” Raleigh Carlyle muttered. He turned to his wife. “Riana, we are leaving.”
Curiously, she didn’t budge.
“Riana?”
“Dalton… has a point,” she mentioned. “These two are all that’s left of the legacy, Raleigh. They are all that we have.”
“They’re not getting my money,” he firmly replied. “They’ve squandered their chances…” He turned back to face his son and grandson. “…They’ve disgraced us, the both of them. If only our darling Gloria had survived, we could have continued on… we could have mattered again…”
“You could have mattered all along,” William spoke up. “Instead, you chose to cut me lose when I needed you most, and you’ve barely been in your single grandchild’s life… you think we’re the disgrace, Father? No. No, that particular distinction belongs to you.”
Nobody said a word.
“The worst part of it,” he continued, “is that Mother’s always wanted more than what you’ve given her… you’ve alienated her from her family. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Your obsession with English high society has blinded you, Father… and in your blindness, you’ve separated your wife from her only legacy. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Raleigh’s cold exterior iced over.
“Fuck you, William.”
He turned to Riana. “We’re leaving.”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
Dalton and William’s jaws practically dropped. Apparently, Riana Carlyle had never publicly defied her husband.
“Excuse me?” He asked, rounding on her.
“Raleigh, this has gone on long enough,” she wearily muttered. “Out of blindness, I allowed you to block our son from the inheritance… but our grandson? You want to default our wealth to the Crown? No, that just won’t do.”
Her husband turned purple with fury, but he didn’t move a muscle. She rose up from her chair, walking past him to confront my beloved. I moved to step away, but he kept my fingers locked into his, and so we both faced her together.
“Dalton, there is something that you were never told about the Carlyle Fortune… something that neither of you were told,” she began, turning to William as well. “You see… Raleigh was never the inheritor of our family’s money.”
“I don’t understand,” William replied.
Riana smiled. “I was.”
“But… how?” Dalton asked. “Raleigh Carlyle carries the family name… how did you…?”
“Simple, really,” she continued. “I was born Riana Carlyle, and I married one Raleigh Fisher. The original Carlyle will dictates that the family name must always survive, and so Raleigh adopted my surname, instead of the other way around. Therefore… Raleigh never truly controlled the inheritance at all.”
William and Dalton seemed to take this particularly hard. “But… that means…”
“That’s right,” Riana sighed. “I should have intervened before, but I was wrapped up in Raleigh’s misguided thoughts on how the money should be handled… William, I am so very sorry. You earned your right to the money back, and I stood by and allowed this transgression against you to continue.”
“I forgive you, Mother,” he smiled faintly. “I prefer this life without it. I’ve supported myself ever since then, married a wonderful woman, and raised a strong and capable son… I couldn’t ask for much more.”
“And so you have,” Riana agreed. “And on the topic of this strong and capable son of yours…”
She paused, casting Raleigh a quick glance. He didn’t budge or open his mouth, and so she glanced over at Dalton once more.
“You tell us that you love this young woman… a young woman who is not only significantly beneath yourself in age, but your stepsister… I am bound by the laws of Reginald Carlyle’s will, as evidenced by the Crown. Your love for her is a disgrace to the family, as Raleigh so elegantly put it earlier… are you willing to forsake your inheritance for her?”
“I am,” Dalton answered, without skipping a beat. “Forgive my disgrace, Grandmother, but I cannot help the woman I love… and I’m willing to give it all away for her.”
“I see,” Riana observed coolly. “Well, that is certainly your decision to make, and I commend you for sticking to your convictions, no matter the cost. I daresay noone in this room can argue with you any longer.”
She gave a meaningful glance to my mother, who quietly simmered in response.
“…But I suppose I am at some liberty to say that there are some… extenuating circumstances, in the event of something like this.”
Dalton lit up. “Such as…?”
“The original patriarch of the Carlyle Fortune, your ancestor Reginald, had a second will drafted… one that was able to counteract the first,” she answered. “One that was also signed by the Crown, with a later date to prove successive displacement of the original terms. There’s a slight amendment to the way the inheritance works.”
The entire room hung on every word.
“As it were, Reginald Carlyle sympathized with his older brother Abner more than history recalled. It turns out that, not only did the disgraced Windsor-Carlyle truly love the Crown Princess, but Reginald foresaw this possibility happening in the bloodline again. It turns out that the man believed very firmly in destiny. ”
Dalton and I shared a meaningful look.
“Once five hundred years had passed, the terms of the second will were to be followed… they stipulated that, in the event of the money defaulting to the Crown over a matter of love, no matter how disgraceful, all money and resources would default to the otherwise rightful inheritor, and the terms and conditions of the Carlyle Fortune would henceforth be disbanded.”
Raleigh’s lips quivered. “You don’t mean…”
“That’s correct,” Riana Carlyle smiled. “As it turns out, the 500th anniversary was approximately two decades ago. The moment you disavowed Dalton Carlyle his inheritance, and he proved in front of us all that he would gladly turn down the money and power to be with this young woman… our grandson won.”
Everyone was silent.
“Dalton, I must appeal
to you now,” Riana spoke, stepping forward and taking his free hand in both of hers. “The Carlyle Fortune is no more, and the money is yours. The family attorneys will see to the succession with you. I ask, my darling grandson, that you allow us a stipend to continue living on, and that you give us time to move out of your rightful manor.”
“Grandchildren typically spend some time in their grandparents’ homes,” Dalton answered. “A weekend here, a week there, to get to know those before them. There’s a certain familial bond to the practice. However… I’ve never slept in Carlyle Manor. That mansion is just another oversized, overblown dot on the English countryside to me. I have no personal attachment to it, or ambitions for it.
“Feel free to keep the manor. I’ll let you have whatever money you need, so long as it defaults back to me in the end.”
Riana bowed her head graciously. “Thank you, Dalton. I deeply appreciate that.”
Her husband looked positively defeated. He sank back down into his chair, staring off into space miserably.
It was William who spoke next. Loud enough for everyone to hear, he turned to my mother and mentioned offhandedly: “You know, Sarah, he wouldn’t be a bad son-in-law to have…”
“And why is that?” Mom snapped.
“Well, besides convincing all of us that he loves your daughter with every fiber of his being, and that he’ll protect her until his dying breath… Dalton just became a multi-millionaire.”
Chapter 22
I glance over my shoulder at Clara as she’s ordering us some lunch on my card. With a small, affectionate smirk, I turn back in front, kicking back at the café table. The crisp air hits me while my eyes gaze around at our surroundings, and I feel refreshed by its touch.
Long-since indoctrinated military instincts kick in as I continue to lazily survey the immediate surroundings, scanning for threats while out of the States. All clear, I think to myself.
My thoughts mellow out, and I appreciate the architecture of the surrounding buildings from this street-level vantage point. My Marine friends were right – Paris is beautiful this time of year.
Six months has passed since that fateful meeting with our entire family. In the intervening time, we’ve finished up our semester at college before pulling out for the following term in advance. We still intend on finishing our degrees, but we thought we’d take a quick detour first.
You see, Clara and I decided to travel the world together after all.
I love how well Clara has adapted to this life. Once she let go of her comfort zone and hopped into this adventure with me, if you’d believe it, she became even more beautiful to me.
The best part is that I don’t have to do this alone. In my deepest dreams, I’d never thought I’d have someone by my side through this journey, someone reliable whom I loved with all my heart. I’m willing to put an expiration date on this voyage to come back to the States and see her through the rest of her education… and I guess the rest of mine, too.
I haven’t quite decided what I’m focusing on, but that’s sort of not an issue for me.
Despite his wishes to the contrary, I separated out and dispersed a large portion of the Carlyle Fortune for Father and Sarah. After all, it should have been his from the start. It took a while for them both to come around – Father was comfortable without it, and Sarah was still acclimating to my relationship with her daughter. However, we had put things behind us, and we definitely were on the road to a healthy in-law relationship.
Naturally, I left my grandparents a large chunk of the money to continue living on, and they are free to keep Carlyle Manor as well. I have no intentions of maintaining that dusty old mansion when they die, but I’ve been giving some thought to converting it into an international home for shell-shocked war veterans. I haven’t quite worked out the logistics, although the lawyers I’ve consulted have told me that it’s probably rather doable.
With all of that said, you’ll have to forgive me. There’s something far more important than money on my mind right now.
The great Bill Murray once told a twenty-something at his bachelor party that the best way to prove you found the right woman is to walk the world with her for months, roughing it and relying on each other at your darkest or most miserable. When you arrive back at the final airport, if you still love her, marry her on the spot.
With only a couple of months under our belts, I had all the convincing I needed. That’s why my fingers are sliding around this ring box in my pocket right now – because tonight, we’re going to be watching fireworks from atop a German castle.
I’m proposing to her, right there and then.
Natalie had even commended me via text message on my choice of ring… and was eagerly waiting to hear the news. As much as she’d done to be in my corner of the ring when it came to Clara… I just couldn’t exclude her from that part.
The future that we have ahead is bright and full of wonder. I’m already wondering where we’ll go when our schooling is over.
No matter what happens, or what lies ahead for us… we know that we have the support of our family, the warmth of each other’s love, and the strength to circumvent any obstacle.
Clara and I will face that future down.
Together.
Don’t stop now! Turn the page because I’ve included more sexy bonus novels just for my most loyal readers! Next up is ROCK HARD!
-nikki
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Bad Boy Fighters:
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Hard Rider (A Bad Boy Biker Romance)
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Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)
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Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)
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Double Treble (A Twin Rockstar Romance)
Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
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Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
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Taking Beauty (Book 1 of the Taking Beauty Series)
Claiming Beauty (Book 2 of the Taking Beauty Series)
Owning Beauty (Book 3 of the Taking Beauty Series)
Pretend Married (A Billionaire Romance with a Twist)
Protect And Serve (A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)
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“The truth of course is that there is no journey. We are arriving and departing all at the same time.”
-David Bowie
Chapter 1
Catherine
“Come on, sweet tits, join the party!”
“What a prick!” That was my first thought.
“Holy fucking hell, he’s so much hotter in person.” That was my second.
“How am I ever supposed to remain professional with a man like him? A man that would have made Mother Theresa spread her legs and beg for forgiveness for all the forbidden sins she was about to commit.” That was the third.
Ten years. Ten years that I’d worked my ass off, hustled and bargained, slaved over a keyboard until dawn, cracked out on caffeine trying to chase a lead. I’d interviewed world leaders, gone undercover to expose sex-trafficking rings, hell once I’d even scored an interview with the Queen.
And now, here I was, on the most asinine assignment ever, in the back of a rockstar’s tour bus, forced to endure the scene in front of me. Not only that, but the most arrogant prick I’d ever met was the subject of my interview.
It didn’t matter that he was so fucking drop-dead sexy it almost hurt to look at him. The problem was, he knew it.
Liam Mercury - the biggest rock star this side of the pond. The lead singer for the Electric Horses, the biggest Brit-pop band since Oasis.
Deep in the back of his tour bus parked outside of Madison Square Garden in New York City, Liam’s lanky limbs spilled out on a black leather couch, the table in front of him littered with empty bottles of champagne and whiskey. Sitting at his side were two of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen. If you could call them that. They didn’t look to be any older than nineteen.
His crude greeting was hurled at me in between removing his tongue from the blonde’s mouth and shoving it into the brunette’s. I waited till he came up for air to respond.
