Psyop Kings (The Crowne Conspiracy #1)

Romy

R ed isn’t usually a color I gravitate toward, but even I can’t deny how good this dress looks on me. Gone is the haunted, terrified girl. In her place is a formidable woman playing twisted, intricate games with malicious men. I’m in battle mode.

As I pace the living room on four-inch sparkly heels, waiting for Caius to pick me up, I can’t help but think of my mother. She was always so cold and prickly. Dad too. The difference between them, though, was that Dad is always emotionless and stiff. Her aloofness seemed to only be aimed at her husband and children. I’d once walked in on a soft moment between Mom and one of Dad’s associates. She’d giggled as his hand roamed its way under her shirt. I’d seen her smile at him—wide and truly beautiful—in a way I’d never seen before.

I’d only been five or so at the time.