Wicked Royals: Ruthless Rulers Prequel

by Stella Hart

  I loved her catty nature in moments like this. She knew how awful Logan was to me, so she didn’t bother pretending to be polite to him when she ran into him, even though most other girls fawned all over him due to his status as one of the hottest and most eligible young bachelors in the city.

  “My mistake. Sorry, Willow,” Logan said. He leaned down and started rubbing at my wet legs with a large white napkin, mopping up some of the scotch he’d spilled on me.

  I hated that this thought even entered my mind, but it occurred to me that this was the first time he’d spoken directly to me in four years, and it made me realize how much I missed his voice.

  I jerked away from his roaming hands. “You don’t need to do that,” I said stiffly.

  “In fact, you don’t need to go anywhere near her ever again,” Marissa added with a sneer. “Prick.”

  I expected Logan to glare at us, but his expression was one of pure amusement. He stepped aside to let us pass. When I turned my head over my shoulder a second later, he was still smirking at me.

  Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my friends and led them to the main downstairs bathroom. After locking the door, I stepped over to the enormous portrait on the far side of the room. There was a tiny slot on the left side of the intricate golden frame.

  “Okay, now it makes sense that there’s a giant painting of an old man in your bathroom,” Simone said with a teasing grin as I swiped my keycard in the slot. “I always thought that was weird.”

  The portrait creaked and groaned before swinging open to the right. My friends gasped as they peered into the darkness beyond. “Holy shit. I can’t believe it’s real,” Marissa said breathlessly.

  “One of you should open the flashlight app on your phone,” I said as I stepped through the hole in the wall. Simone immediately did as I said.

  “We need to be careful,” I went on. “There’s a bunch of steps right here, and they can get pretty slippery. Wait for me to get partway down, and then I’ll reach back up so one of you can grab my arm as you step down. We’ll keep going like that until we’re all linked up and safely on the ground.”

  Five minutes later, the four of us were standing in the main tunnel leading out of the VP’s mansion. Simone flashed her phone around, lighting up the rough gray brick walls and damp floor, which was littered with stones and leafy debris. “It’s way bigger than I pictured,” she said, eyes wide.

  I nodded. “I know, right? You could get lost down here for days if you weren’t careful.”

  “I didn’t think it would be this dirty,” Marissa said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Well, I warned you,” I said with a grin. “I think the tunnels that get used more often might be cleaner, but no one really comes down to this part, as far as I know.”

  “I thought you said hardly anyone uses any of the tunnels anymore?”

  “That’s what I heard, but I assume the ones closer to the White House and Capitol still get used sometimes,” I replied. “Anyway, we need to go left now.”

  We traipsed along the damp floor in silence, footsteps echoing loudly in the cool space.

  “Hey, check this out,” Simone said a few minutes later, trailing one hand over the wall. “There’s some sort of symbol carved into the stone.”

  We gathered around to look. Someone had etched an arrow into the wall, pointing south-east. Above that was a triangle with an eye in it.

  “Weird. I never noticed that before,” I said, my forehead wrinkling with curiosity.

  “We should follow the arrow and see if we can find more of these symbols. Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to find the secret rooms and passages.”

  “The White House is south-east from here, so that could work,” I mused. “But if we wander too far off my usual path, we could get lost, so we’ll only explore within reason, okay?”

  “Okay, Mom,” Marissa said in an acid tone.

  We kept going down the tunnel. A couple of minutes later, I realized my left shoe was starting to feel weirdly loose. I was wearing the latest Valentino gladiator heels, and they had straps that laced up and around my legs, all the way to my knees. One of the straps must’ve come undone.

  “Give me a second,” I said, crouching to have a look. “I need to fix my shoe.”

  My friends didn’t stop walking, but they slowed down, dawdling up ahead.

  Feeling with my hands, I located the ends of the shoe straps on my left leg. They were still tied together. The shoe shouldn’t be loose at all.

  Frowning, I pulled my phone out of my clutch and shined the light on myself. “Oh, shit,” I muttered. One of the straps had snapped halfway down my leg, so cleanly that it almost looked like it’d been cut with a pair of scissors. It didn’t matter if everything was tied together at the top; the shoe would still feel loose and hang off my foot due to the lack of support.

  So much for designer quality.

  “Hurry up, Willow!” Marissa called back to me.

  “There’s something wrong with my shoe,” I said. “I think I can fix it, though. Give me a few minutes.”

  She groaned. “It hurts my feet more to stand still in heels than it does to walk in them!”

  “Me too,” Kate said.

  I sighed. “Okay, whatever. Keep walking. You’ll get to another split in the tunnel in about five minutes, and you need to turn right there. I’ll catch up when I can.”

  They took off without another word.

  I let out another sigh as I tried to figure out what to do with my shoe. If I could just retie the broken straps together somehow, I could easily fix the issue. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. The broken parts weren’t long enough to tie back together in a knot, even when I yanked them as tightly together as I could.

  “A-ha!” I whispered to myself a moment later as a stroke of inspiration hit me. My hair was in an updo, and underneath all the fancy pins and tucked-in braids, there was a hair tie. I could use that to connect the straps back together.

  It took five painstaking minutes to remove every single bobby pin in my updo, along with all the intricately-plaited parts around the edge. Finally, my long auburn hair tumbled over my shoulders, allowing me to grasp at the hair tie and yank it free.

  It took another couple of minutes to fix the straps, but it seemed to work. I stood and took a few steps. Everything felt fine. If I walked extra fast, I should be able to catch up with my friends soon enough.

  I started typing a quick text to Marissa to let her know I was on my way. Then I remembered there was no cell service down here. With a frustrated groan, I stashed my phone back in my clutch and hurried down the tunnel. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness by now, so I didn’t need the light.

  After passing multiple alcoves and tiny pitch-black passageways leading to god-knows-where—I'd always been too scared to explore those particular parts—I reached the fork where I needed to go right.

  Before I could turn, I heard an odd scraping sound from somewhere on the left part of the fork.

  My pulse began to race. “Marissa?” I tentatively called out. “Simone? Kate?”

  They must’ve misheard my directions and turned left instead of right, and the sound was the click-clack of their shoes on the cement. At least that’s what I told myself. Deep down, I knew it could be anyone or anything, but that thought was too terrifying to pay more than a millisecond of attention to right now.

  The sound came again a few seconds later. This time it was close enough for me to surmise that it was the footsteps of someone in heavy flat shoes.

  My breath hitched in my chest, and I began to back away into the other side of the tunnel. As I moved, a masculine voice echoed in the darkness.

  “Willow? Is that you?”

  I couldn’t tell exactly who it was, but it sounded like one of my Secret Service guys.

  My shoulders slumped, and I let out a groan. Obviously, my detail had figured out what I’d done, and they were here to tell me to go home right away.

  “Look,
I’m sorry, okay?” I said, pulling out my phone. “It was just meant to be a bit of fun.”

  I switched the flashlight app on and shined the light down the tunnel to confirm that it was my security detail heading toward me.

  In that instant, my stomach dropped and my veins seemed to flood with ice water. There was only one person in the tunnel ahead of me, and it wasn’t a Secret Service agent. It was a tall man in a suit with a grotesque black and silver skull mask covering his face.

  “Who are you?” I asked, my voice piteously weak.

  The man didn’t answer. He simply took two more slow steps in my direction.

  Then he started to run.

  4

  Logan

  A wicked grin curled up my lips as I dashed toward Willow. She let out a piercing scream as her face twisted with terror, but she didn’t run away. Her legs seemed to be rooted to the ground.

  Finally, her body seemed to catch up with her mind. She turned and took off down the right side of the tunnel, long legs dodging piles of stone and cold black puddles.

  She was surprisingly quick for a girl in damaged stiletto heels. Despite that, I knew I could easily catch up to her. I chose to hang back instead, enjoying the thrill of the chase and the sound of her heavy, petrified breaths as they tore from her lungs.

  She faltered in her frenzied steps a moment later. Her hands flew out in front of her, grasping at air in an attempt to regain her balance, and her body twirled and jerked as she fell, still clutching at nothing. With a bone-jarring thud, she ended up on her ass on the concrete, arms splayed behind her. Her cellphone flew over to the other side of the tunnel, and the bright flashlight app switched off, seemingly broken. Now the only light in the tunnel came from my phone.

  A whimper escaped Willow’s sweet pink lips as she twisted around, fear etched into every inch of her face. My cock twitched at the sight. She’d always been a beautiful girl, but in this moment, she was perfection. The ultimate victim.

  “Leave me alone!” she cried, staring up at me as I approached. Of course, she had no idea who I was. All she saw was an ugly skull mask. That made it all the more terrifying for her; that chilling fear of the unknown. If she knew the exact identity of the person stalking her in the dark, she would still be scared, but a significant element would be missing from that fear.

  I couldn’t have that. I wanted her to feel it all. She deserved that much.

  I slowed my pace and cocked my head to the side, staring down at her. Her pretty face was bone-white and streaked with mascara. I chuckled at the sight. It hadn’t taken long to make her cry at all. Mere seconds. The thought sent a warm jolt of pleasure straight to my groin.

  I crouched down to her level and thrust my head forward. I was so close that I could smell her floral perfume, and if I took the mask off, I could easily lick one of the salty beads of perspiration right off her forehead.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Her voice was nothing more than a pitiful squeak.

  “I want you to run, princess,” I murmured. The thick mask made my voice sound deeper than usual and far more guttural, so I knew she wouldn’t put two and two together and figure out it was me.

  “W-what?”

  I picked up her phone, leaned even closer, and lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “I said I want you to run,” I said, sliding the phone over to her.

  Her eyes widened at my words, as if she couldn’t believe that I wasn’t grabbing her and dragging her into a torture dungeon now that she’d fallen right at my feet.

  One day that would happen, but not tonight. This was just a bit of fun. A little game of hide-and-seek.

  Willow retrieved her cell with one trembling hand and pulled herself up on shaky legs, still staring at me. Her eyes shimmered with the threat of more tears. “Please… I don’t understand wh—”

  “Go!” I roared, cutting her off.

  That was all the encouragement she needed. She let out another shriek and sprinted into the darkness.

  “Good girl!” I called after her, lips curving in a satisfied smirk.

  I hadn’t actually planned on doing anything to fuck with her tonight, but when I overheard her and her friends planning their little tunnel expedition at the party earlier, I couldn’t resist. All I had to figure out was how to separate her from those vapid little bitches Marissa, Kate, and Simone once they got down there. For a half-baked plan I came up with on the fly, it worked surprisingly well.

  First, I pretended to be drunk enough to bump into Willow and spill a drink all over her dress. When I did it, I was holding a large cloth napkin in my free hand, and I pretended to help clean her legs as I crouched in front of her. Hidden beneath the napkin was a sharp cheese knife I pilfered from one of the party server’s food trays. All it took was a quick and skillful nick, and one of Willow’s left shoe straps was left hanging by a mere thread.

  I figured it would break within the next ten minutes or so, and when it finally did, I was fairly certain her nasty friends would abandon her while she figured out what to do. Most of those spoiled D.C. princesses had zero sense of loyalty.

  A small part of me had worried that one of them might suddenly grow a conscience and refuse to leave her alone in a dark tunnel, but my initial instincts turned out to be correct. It only took a few seconds for them to ditch Willow and leave her vulnerable.

  None of them had any idea that I was down here, lurking in the shadows of a nearby alcove. They didn’t even know it existed.

  Unfortunately for them, I did.

  I found out about these tunnels when I was just a kid, and I’d been wandering around and learning their secrets since I was fifteen. By now, I knew every inch of the place like the back of my hand. Every twist and turn, every dark nook, every winding passage. I even knew about the other secret entrance in the vice president’s mansion, down in the basement. Willow seemed to think the bathroom portrait entrance was the only one.

  I knew she’d done some exploring of her own down here over the last couple of years, but she still had no idea how extensive these tunnels were, because she’d never explored any of the deep recesses in the walls or any of the narrow passages leading away from the bigger ones. If she had, she wouldn’t find this place so boring, like she told her friends earlier, and she’d know that the secret rooms weren’t some sort of urban myth.

  I waited a minute, and then I went after her again, my whole body prickling with anticipation.

  Messing with her like this was a form of release for me. Almost better than sex. It was also a good way to practice for her twenty-first birthday, when I’d be able to take her for real. Until then, I couldn’t do anything to hurt her. All I could do was scare her.

  As much as I hated the waiting game, I knew it would only make her taste that much sweeter when I finally had the opportunity to own her. For now, the thrill of the chase would have to be enough to satisfy my urges for power and control.

  Up ahead, I spied a soft glow lighting the tunnel. It had to be her friends.

  Willow must’ve realized the same thing, because she let out a ragged cry. “Help! Please!”

  The light moved steadily south. Her friends were still too far away to hear, even with all the echoes.

  Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as I switched off my phone light and picked up the pace. In the long run, it wouldn’t actually matter if Willow got away from me and rejoined her friends tonight, but I wasn’t done playing yet. I didn’t want to stop.

  Sorry, princess. Your friends will have to wait.

  Heat swept down my neck, seeping into my chest, and adrenaline pumped through my veins as I pushed my body to the limit. Willow was still several feet in front, and her friends were probably only twenty or thirty yards away now. I closed the distance between us with a few more steps, keeping my breathing steady despite the way my heart was pounding.

  “Hel—”

  Willow tried to scream again, but I clamped my hand over her mouth and dragged her into a dark recess in the
tunnel wall. I wrapped my other arm around her, burying my nose under her ear.

  “Did you guys hear that?” Marissa’s voice drifted back to us, and I saw the light whip around in our direction, flashing all over the tunnel.

  “Hear what?” Simone replied.

  “That noise. Hey, Willow, is that you?”

  Willow struggled valiantly in my grip, but she was no match for my strength. She tried to bite my hand as I held it over her mouth, and all I wound up feeling was a slight tickling sensation on my palm. “It’s just us tonight, princess,” I growled in her ear. “They won’t help.”

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Kate said.

  Marissa lowered the light. “It sounded like a squeak.”

  “Ew, I bet it was a mouse! This place is so gross.”

  “Well, Willow told us it would be dirty,” Simone said with a snicker. “What did you expect?”

  “Where the hell is she, anyway? How long has it been?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  “Let’s stop and call her.”

  Willow’s phone was still in her hand, but I didn’t make a move to take it and switch it off. No one could get cell service in this part of the tunnel, so it wouldn’t ring.

  “No bars,” Kate said, right on cue. “Great…”

  “We don’t even know where we’re going. Let’s just go back and see if we can find her.”

  The sharp clatter of heels on concrete echoed through the air as the girls headed back down the tunnel, drawing closer to my little hideaway. Willow struggled in my arms and tried to moan through my hand, but we were tucked so far back into the alcove that the pitiful sounds didn’t make a difference. Her friends would never see or hear us in here.

  “You know, I just realized something,” Marissa said. “I think Willow set us up.”

  “Huh?”

  Marissa’s voice turned snide. “Think about it. Her shoe just conveniently broke? Bullshit. I bet she decided to hang back and let us go ahead so she could ditch us and go home.”

  “Why would she do that?” Simone asked. She was walking right past us now, her voice clear as day.