by Alley Ciz
A Royalty Crew Novel
Savage Queen
A Royalty Crew Duet
Alley Ciz
Also by Alley Ciz
The Royalty Crew (A #UofJ Spin-Off)
Savage Queen
*Ruthless Noble*- Preorder, Releasing June 2021
#UofJ Series
Cut Above The Rest (Prequel) Freebie
Looking To Score
Game Changer
Playing For Keeps
*Off The Bench*- #UofJ4 Preorder, Releasing December 2021
BTU Alumni Series
Power Play (Jake and Jordan)
Musical Mayhem (Sammy and Jamie) BTU Novella
Tap Out (Gage and Rocky)
Sweet Victory (Vince and Holly)
Puck Performance (Jase and Melody)
Writing Dirty (Maddey and Dex)
*Scoring Beauty*- BTU6 Preorder, Releasing September 2021
I grew up a queen among men.
Proud.
Strong.
Royalty.
I’ll do anything for the ones I love, even if it means allowing myself to be forced from my kingdom.
I may be stuck having to play Samantha St. James inside the gilded halls of my new school, but I’ll always be Savvy King at my core.
Now Jasper Noble and his merry band of douchebags expect me to yield.
That’s funny.
They think they’re tough.
Gods among men.
I know they’re nothing but ordinary bullies.
With threats coming from all sides, my adversaries will come to learn—I don’t bend the knee for false kings.
SAVAGE QUEEN is book 1 in the Royalty Crew Duet. It is a #UofJ Spin-off and is a non-dark high school bully/enemies-to-lovers romance filled with hella sexual tension, an alpha-hole hero, and a Boss B heroine. Book 2 is releasing June 2021.
Savage Queen (A Royalty Crew Duet)
Alley Ciz
Copyright © 2021 by House of Crazy Publishing, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, medium and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Copyright © 2021 by House of Crazy Publishing, LLC
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-950884-20-9
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-950884-19-3
Cover Designer: Julia Cabrera at Jersey Girl Designs
Cover Photographer: Wander Book Club Photography
Cover Models: Joey Lagrua and Kennedy Moran
Editing: Jessica Snyder Edits, C. Marie
Proofreading: Gem’s Precise Proofreads; Dawn Black; My Brother’s Editor
Created with Vellum
This one is for the ladies! Never be afraid to let your inner boss bitch shine!
#GirlPower
(yes I totally said that like a Spice Girl I don’t care if that shows my age lol)
Author Note
Dear Reader,
SAVAGE QUEEN is book 1 in the Royalty Crew Duet. It is a #UofJ Series Spin-off. You do not need to read them to understand the story, you just get to know them a bit more. All are available in Kindle Unlimited.
The Royalty Crew
Savage Queen
Ruthless Noble- Preorder June 2021
#UofJ Series
Cut Above The Rest (Prequel) Freebie
Looking To Score
Game Changer
Playing For Keeps
*Off The Bench*- #UofJ4 Preorder, Releasing December 2021
If I’m new to you and you haven’t read my #UofJ books you’re fine.
If you have met my this crazy cast, this book takes place the school year after PLAYING FOR KEEPS.
XOXO
Alley
Contents
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Randomness For My Readers
Acknowledgments
For A Good Time Call
Sneak Peek of Writing Dirty (BTU5)
Also by Alley Ciz
About the Author
Playlist
“Women Like Me”- Little Mis
“Not Your Barbie Girl”- Ava Max
“Queen”- Loren Gray
“Games”- Demi Lovato
“Castle”- Halsey
“You Should See Me In A Crown”- Billie Eilish
“Crown”- Camila Cabello
FIND THE FULL PLAYLIST on Spotify.
CHAPTER 1
Senior year.
It’s supposed to be epic. Filled with parties, prom, and all sorts of debauchery.
God! I was so looking forward to living out my teenage drama dreams.
Yeah…
Now though…
Not so much.
All thoughts of what I envisioned my first day of senior year would be like dissolve as our driver pulls through the wrought iron gates of Blackwell Academy and the butterflies in my belly turn into fire-breathing dragons. I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t me.
The luxury vehicle, the uniform, the most expensive private school on the east coast—all of it, wrong.
This isn’t my school. No, mine is on the other side of town. Why the hell do I have to spend my last year of high school at this uptight prep school instead of Blackwell Public? Just thinking about it has the potential to make me rage like the Hulk.
I have friends at BP.
A crew.
A legacy.
I was Savvy-fucking-King.
Here? I have nothing, am nothing.
Actually…if I’m being honest, it might even be a little bit dangerous for me to be here, though I expect that thought is more my brother’s paranoia rubbing off on me than actual reality.
I get it. At BP, my name alone demands respect, not to mention there’s a system in place to help remind those who need it that being an asshole for assholerly’s sake is an automatic way to get yourself canceled.
Here at BA? Who the hell knows. For all I know, I could be walking into a Lord of the Flies-type situation. Fun times
.
“Miss?” The voice of Daniel, my stepfather’s driver, startles me. Looks like I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t hear him open my door.
It’s going to be a long day; I can already feel it.
“Ready, Samantha?” asks Mitchell St. James, my new stepdad.
I grit my teeth. Why she insists on people calling me by my legal name is beyond me.
“Yes. Coming.” I loop the strap of the black Nappa leather messenger bag—another insistence from her—over my shoulder and slide out, using my hand to smooth my pleated schoolgirl-style skirt that hits me mid-thigh.
Ugh. This damn uniform. Like seriously? What am I, auditioning to be in a Britney Spears music video?
I do have to give credit where it’s due. The pretentious people who run this place picked some high-quality materials for us to wear. The white button-up is silk, and my gray blazer is made of the softest cashmere. I was also surprised by the staggering number of possible combinations for a school with a uniform.
I walk around the back of the Bentley, the silver shiny enough I can see my reflection in it, and join the reason for my upheaval.
Okay, I may be acting a tad dramatic from still being salty about this latest development, but who the hell wants to be uprooted from their school senior year? *points with both thumbs* Not this girl.
Things would be a lot easier if I hated Mitchell St. James, but alas, I don’t. And…
To be fair, he isn’t the real reason for this life change. Nope. That honor falls firmly on her—Natalie King. For a woman who didn’t give two shits about me for most of my life, this demand—threat—to have me fall in line and live with her straight-up pisses me off.
The thing I haven’t figured out yet—and yes, let me tell you, it frustrates the fuck out of me that I haven’t—is why the sudden push to act like mom of the year? I honestly have a hard time recalling an instance when I saw her as a parental figure. When he was alive, it was Dad, then the Falco family and my older brother Carter after his death.
It’s actually quite fascinating to watch how Natalie transforms into what most people would think is a “normal” human being when Mitchell is around versus the devilish bitch we’ve always known her as.
Her attempts at rewriting history have also been commendable. Make no mistake, her pretending she was the one who made sure I was cared for, ensured I always had my meds, took care of me if I got sick, and taught me how to take care of myself is precisely that—pretending. Try as she might, she can’t green-screen herself into a role filled by Carter and others.
I’m seventeen years old, a few months shy of being an adult, and capable—at least legally—of making my own decisions. So why? Why is it now that Natalie King, now St. James, insisted—again, made threats—I fall in line and pretend to be a model daughter? She’s the real person I’m pissed at. The only good thing that woman has done for me was giving birth to me instead of aborting me.
“This will always be your home whether you live here or not.” My brother’s promise echoes in the back of my mind. It’s one I’ve been playing on repeat since Natalie called us to the house neither one of us has called home to drop her bombs like Blackwell was all of a sudden the Middle East.
“I got married.” She wiggles the fingers of her left hand, the giant rock on the fourth one practically blinding us.
To say Carter and I were surprised would be the understatement of the century. Sure we aren’t the sit-down-to-dinner-together type of family, at least not with her, but we weren’t even aware she was dating someone, let alone seriously enough for him to put a ring on it.
“Who did you sucker into marrying you, Natalie?” My lips twitch at the way she bristles at Carter using her first name. I don’t blame him; even when I think of her as ‘Mom,’ the sarcasm is thick.
Marrying into a founding family of Blackwell, Natalie had grown used to a certain level of status. The grass hadn’t had a chance to grow over Dad’s grave before she started her hunt for husband number two all those years ago.
I dip my chin to study my new stepdad out of the corner of my eye. I gotta hand it to her—it took her years to reel in husband number two, but she certainly landed herself a whale in Mitchell St. James. In a custom-tailored suit that must have easily cost five figures, the hotelier radiates luxury and power. Gossip Girl is my go-to show to rewatch with my bestie Tessa, and he gives off massive Bart Bass vibes.
“Samantha”—Natalie has always refused to call me by my Savvy nickname—“you will be moving to the St. James with me, and I’ll be transferring your enrollment to Blackwell Academy.”
I tried to fight it, but it was no use. Within two weeks, I was moved out of my brother’s place and into the penthouse residence at the St. James and was a registered senior of Mitchell’s alma mater.
“Follow me,” Mitchell instructs, and again, I do as I’m told.
The BA campus is like something out of a movie. The stone steps at the entrance have to be a hundred feet wide, and the three-story gray stone building beyond them is equally impressive. The doorway I follow Mitchell through is big enough to drive a truck through.
Geez, are we overcompensating for something?
My dark purple Chucks—a nod to my Blackwell Public roots—squeak on the white marble floors, because of course they’re marble. Yes, I’m aware I sound like a judgy bitch, but in my defense, everything about the place drips money. There’s no fake lemony scent of floor cleaner here, only a fresh one that manages to make me feel like I’m still outside. Even the hallway’s metal lockers look more like high-end appliances than a place for students to store their belongings.
Also…we’re late.
Classes started thirty minutes ago, and not one person is in the hall as I follow Mitchell to Headmaster Woodbridge’s office. Of course they have a headmaster. God forbid they went with a simple principal like BP.
I snort, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mitchell’s mouth twitch at the sound.
Fuck I’m so bitter about having to be here.
We step inside a room that is—unsurprisingly given everything else so far—beautifully decorated. There are two tufted black leather couches mirroring each other and a large desk set up in front of a wall of windows overlooking the state-of-the-art football stadium and hockey arena. That’s what happens when the average person would have to sell their soul to afford the cost of tuition here—though I can’t help but smirk thinking of how both places looked the last I saw them. If you ever need to know how much toilet paper is required to TP a football stadium or the best paint to use on ice, I’m your girl.
Actually…
I wonder how the BP start-of-the-school-year prank is going over. I also need to remember to pay extra-close attention to the bathrooms when I need to use one.
“Ah, Mitchell.” Headmaster Woodbridge rises, rounding his desk.
“Jonathan.”
They shake hands, and by the use of first names, I can only assume the leader of my new school is golfing buddies with my stepfather. Awesome—not.
“Samantha.” Their attention turns to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And let me say, we are honored to have you joining the ranks of our student body.”
Honored? Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?
“Umm…thank you?”
“Jonathan.” Mitchell speaks to cut the awkwardness. He may be pulling me from everything I’ve known, but unlike Natalie, he is perceptive enough to read me. “How about we let my daughter”—just daughter; I’ve noticed he never uses ‘step’ when he speaks of me—“get settled in before you start any sales pitches.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Headmaster Woodbridge claps him on the back in a good-ol’-boys way. “I’ve arranged for one of our top students to show you around—teach you the ropes of BA, if you will.” He flicks his wrist, checking the gold Rolex on it for the time. “She should be here any minute.”
Again I’m hit with a wave of I shouldn’t be here
. I don’t want to “learn the ropes.” BP is my turf, my kingdom to rule. I want to be sitting in class, passing notes to Tessa. Instead, I’m stuck here in a place where it feels like my Royalty status could bring on a wave of Off with her head as opposed to the Oh shit, Savvy’s coming I’m used to.
For all the stories I’ve heard about the great pranks of the past, I never fully understood how the Romeo and Juliet-esque feud started. I always assumed it was mostly a case of a school that could afford to recruit some of the best athletes from across the country being butthurt because the public school could claim more alumni playing in the NFL.
After I was told I would be transferred to this place that mostly boards—and let’s not forget how it boasts about having—some of the brightest and most connected young minds on the east coast, I decided it was time I needed all the facts if I were to come up with a proper plan of attack.
My brother and his friends may have nicknamed me Savage—Savvy for short—for my boss bitch personality, but I know how to turn on the girl-next-door charm when needed. My connections may not come from being a child of the upper one percent like my new school chums, but I am a child of a Blackwell founding family, and I exploit the shit out of it.
