Royal Sin (Dynasty of Queens)

Chapter 1

“ I want to bring home a boy my parents will hate, but one who is strong enough to stand up to them.”

Serena looked at me as if I had sprouted two heads. “That’s ridiculous.”

I smiled. “It’s brilliant.”

“Won’t they just cut you off?” she asked flatly. “Then you’ll be penniless, and no boy will want you then.”

“Penniless?” I shrugged. “Free of their expectations?” Another shrug. “Either way, it’s perfect.”

Leaning over the bench in the boutique designer’s dressing room, Serena flipped the price tag sticking out under my arm. A frown etched her otherwise regal features. Of all the things to come out of my mouth over the years, this was probably the most reckless.

“When I have friends like you, who needs their own money?” I gave her a winning smile.

Those large, brown eyes rolled dramatically. “You don’t have friends like me. You only have me.”

“Fair.” I turned in the mirror. “How did your applications go?”

A cloud fell over my friend’s features. She went from disapproving to dismayed in a flash. “I am exploring my options.”

“Oh, come on, Serena!” Another semester without my best friend at my side was unbearable. “Tell your brother you want some higher education!”

But my friend only shook her head. “That’s the thing. I don’t want more school. We just graduated—”

“Yeah, a year ago,” I grumbled.

“I am content with how my life is right now. I don’t need to go to a top ten school, graduate with a fancy degree, and land a prestigious job to prove something.” She slid the blouse over her head, tossing it in the discard pile.

I turned away quickly so she didn’t see my face. She wasn’t trying to hit me where it hurt. Hell, she didn’t know how badly that urge to prove could drive.

“You’re right.” I sighed, smoothing down the silky fabric of the dress I was trying on. “I’m just... it’s lonely without you.”

Serena’s expression softened as she reached for another blouse. “I know. But you're doing amazing things. Your parents might be impossible to please, but they gave you opportunities many will never have.”

“Opportunities that come with golden handcuffs,” I muttered.

“So this boy you want to bring home….” Serena changed the subject with a sly smile. “Anyone specific in mind, or are you just planning to cruise the tattoo parlors until you find someone who looks sufficiently rebellious?”

I laughed despite myself. “I haven’t gotten that far in the plan.”

“What about that guy from the café? The one with the race car.” Serena returned to her own clothing, scooping up the pile of items she planned to buy.

“Jason?” I wrinkled my nose. “You see me with that playboy?”

Serena shrugged. “Well, who, then?”

Someone from money, someone from our world. If my family was going to take my declaration seriously, it had to be someone powerful enough to mess with them. And if I was going to spend any actual time with him, he had to be tall and handsome with a sizeable trust fund.

In short, perfect.

“I’ll keep you posted,” I said with a wink. “It’s too bad you can’t come to the country club tonight. You could help me look! Oh, please, Serena! Try to convince your brother?”

But once again, my friend folded into herself. “I don’t want to go to the club.”

Translation: Her brother wouldn’t let her.

Because it hurt her to point out the truth, I let it drop. In the years I’d known her, she had been to exactly one society function, and that was only because it was mandatory for our transition to upperclassman status. Otherwise, my friend was stuck, although she would be the last person to say it. The reason her brother kept her in that gilded cage was for her protection, for as a mob boss, he had many enemies—not that I was supposed to know about his true colors. It was a secret I discovered and kept buried. Not even Serena knew that I found out the truth about her family. I wouldn’t risk losing her friendship if she discovered I knew. She would most certainly cut me out of her life if she felt I was a risk, which I supposed was better than sleeping with the fishes if her brother caught wind of my knowledge. They didn’t call him the Blood King for nothing.

I tapped the plastic stir stick against the cocktail. “Nope, your chin is weird, Gavin.”

Shifting to the side, I peered around the casually dressed golfers mingling for drinks after the game.

“You gamble, Rodney.” Tap. “Your mother isn’t liked on the charity boards, Christopher.” Tap. Tap. “And you, Connor, like animals more than humans—and not in the regular way.”

With a sigh, I leaned back on the half-wall where I’d been hiding for the last thirty minutes, making a list of potential suitors. The pool of guys my age who my parents wouldn’t approve of was small to begin with. There was potential to widen my net at another event, perhaps, but this was the baseline I had to work with.

Besides, these were all boys. Sure, they might be anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five, but when push came to shove, none of them would stand up to my parents.

“No, I need a man.” Drawing my shoulders back, I hopped off the stone ledge. Before I returned to mingle with my peers, I tossed the cocktail glass into the shrubbery.

The glass landed with a muted crash. I winced but kept walking. Someone would find the pieces eventually—probably one of the underpaid staff who worked here. A twinge of guilt pinched me, but I brushed it away. I had bigger problems than littering, and being caught drinking underage wasn’t one of them.

I drifted through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces, accepting air kisses from women who whispered cruel observations the moment I passed. The country club was its own special hell—a gilded cage where everyone pretended to like each other while secretly cataloging every flaw, every misstep.

“Darling!” My mother’s voice cut through the ambient chatter. She glided toward me, martini in hand, not a hair out of place. “Where have you been hiding? The Prestons have been asking about you.”

The Prestons’ son had just entered law school at Harvard and would be looking for a suitable wife in a few years. Paul was the last boy on earth I would attach myself to. If my parents had their way, I would finish school, marry Paul—or another cookie-cut version, and dazzle society with my vigor and time spent making a contribution , all while my husband would do battle in the corporate or political world, discreetly cheating on me one moment and then appearing the doting husband in public.

I smoothed down the dress Serena had helped me pick out and joined my parents, scanning the room with new purpose. This was not going to be my future. I was destined for greater things than to be another brick in the wall. I might have had more freedom than my friend, who was never let out of the house, but the chain was still there. What was expected of me was written in stone.

Well, stone could be broken with the right application of force.

Mr. Preston droned on about the market with my father, while Mrs. Preston and my mother chatted about a committee they were both on the board of. The young stag was nowhere to be found—thank my stars. So I stood awkwardly, a polished decoration to boast of the merits of the family that sired me. Margot Preston was in the same boat, fidgeting next to her mother.

Looking around the patio, I wondered if there was another bartender I could trick into fixing me a drink. It never was a good plan to go to the same one twice. Flirting my way into a beverage was an art, and smiles and charm only went so far before the staff expected more for the risk of their assistance. I preferred to be parched rather than kiss the staff for a drink.

As I debated my thirsty situation, something black shifted in the sea of white, baby blue, and khaki.

The crowd parted, and I sucked in a surprised breath.

He stood apart from the usual clusters of golf shirts and boat shoes, nursing something amber and neat at the bar. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck. Too long to be considered proper by country club standards. Maybe thirty? Definitely older than the boys I’d been crossing off my list.

But it wasn’t those qualities that kept me looking.

There was something about him. I would have defined it as sinister if that wasn’t crazy. My imagination did tend to run with itself. He was likely a business shark and, therefore carried himself with authority—nothing more.

“Who is that?” I whispered to Margot, who knew everyone’s business, trained as the perfect society hostess, a carbon copy of her mother.

Margot flicked a glance to the side. Her eyes widened, and she shifted violently. “Leonard Baldwin. New money, and not…proper.”

Not proper. Something warm slid through me. That was something I could work with.

“How long until your graduation at Kilton, Margot?” I asked, not wanting to show any more interest now that I had a mark.

“Oh! The ceremony is in two weeks. I’m on the event committee, and we are just up to our eyeballs in last-minute details,” Margot began, waxing elegantly about her prestigious role at the private academy I escaped last year.

Nodding along as though I cared, I watched my prey from the corner of my eye. Leonard Baldwin…. He did have some kind of aura about him. If Margot reacted that way, if the lack of club members swarming him, if the fact that he seemed like he would rather stick a fork in his hand than be here, were any indication, this target might be perfect.

One of the McDougals went to speak with the enigma. Baldwin arched a brow slightly at what was being said, but let McDougal lead him away toward the club’s prestigious restaurant and wine cellar. It made me wish we were dining at Cru tonight so I could continue to watch and gather intel. But I didn’t want Baldwin seeing me.

No, if he was going to be my mark, I would have to craft a scenario that put me in his path by accident…and make him come back for more.