1. Laurene
CHAPTER 1
Laurene
PRESENT DAY—SIX YEARS LATER
“Welcome back, Miss King.” She had a plastic smile, but her voice was cold and formal. She knew my name, everyone here did, but the way she said it made my skin prickle.
The flight from Paris was awful; leaving my little sanctuary only to return to… What? My mess?
Bags in hand, I stepped out of the jet.
The cold northern California air hit me like a wall, salty and familiar. There was a bone-chilling silence, like the world was holding its breath.
No crowd. No welcoming committee. No angry pitchforks or protesters, like I’d half expected.
All I heard was the hum of the engines slowing and my pulse thudding in my ears.
I was finally home.
“Mrs. King, we need to ask your daughter a few questions,” the detective said.
The police station smelled like burnt coffee and mildew. My skin was damp, sticky with ocean water, motor oil, and sweat. The wool blanket wrapped around my shoulders scratched at my neck, but I clutched it tighter, trying to stop the shaking.
“You don’t need to talk to my daughter!” Mama snapped. “You’re supposed to be helping us. But here you are, dragging us down here. I will be talking to the mayor about this shit. Her fiancé is hurt. We need to be at the hospital.”
The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed. The chair beneath me was hard. My wet hair puffed at the ends and roots. My throat burned—either from the water I’d swallowed or the bile rising every time I thought about Conrad’s body sailing over the railing, crashing against the rocks, then sinking into the dark water.
This wasn’t our plan.
“I’m giving you the courtesy of being here because of your standing in this town.” The detective barely looked at her, voice flat. “Your daughter is an adult.”
“My daughter is a King . Our family built this fucking town you’re paid to protect, and you will respect us.”
Mama was beside me, her hand cold and tight against my wrist. Too tight. I tried not to flinch.
The detective pulled out a notepad and clicked his pen. “We have reason to believe there was a fight tonight. Between Conrad and Reese Ashbourne.”
My stomach dropped.
I kept seeing it.
Reese’s punch to Conrad’s face. The way the waves slammed against the boat. The deck tilted. Conrad’s voice slurred, twisted into something mean.
The snap of wood. The shattering of glass.
The splash.
“We also have witnesses placing Laurene with Reese before the crash.”
Mama’s fingers released me. I felt her staring at me. Hard. Sharp. Calculating.
“What are you implying? Conrad is her fiancé; she wouldn’t be caught dead with his brother.”
I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at anyone.
“Miss King,” the detective pressed, “was Reese involved in the fight that led to this? ”
My head was pounding, a drumbeat that felt like it was splitting my skull in half.
“Are you asking me…if Reese killed—I mean…hurt h-his brother?”
Tell the truth. Let them dig. Let them find out everything.
Or—
“Laurene, tell him what he wants to hear, so we can go. You have nothing to hide,” Mama sneered the words at the detective, then turned to me.
Even here, in this mess, she still needed me to be perfect. I had to be careful. I had to keep everything she’d built safe. My life wasn’t just mine. What had I been thinking? That Reese and I were really gonna have a happily ever after?
Had I ruined everything? Had I ruined my family? King was my last name, but it was her legacy, her perfect image. The daughter who’d always been so good.
One answer would keep me safe.
Mama was watching me, her eyes pinning me in place, judging.
“They fought tonight.” The words slid out too easy. Like I wasn’t setting Reese on fire and walking away.
No! What are you doing, Laurene! Keep your mouth shut. Don’t say a damn thing?—
The detective’s pen scratched against the paper as he scribbled something down. “Did Reese hurt Conrad?”
No. Reese protected me. We had a plan. It went horribly wrong.
I couldn’t say that. If anyone in this town found out what I’d done—that I was sleeping with Reese, what we’d planned—Mama would be disgraced. Mama would disown me.
I could already hear the whispers, the headlines if the truth got out. Laurene King, the daughter of the powerful Yvonne King, destroyed over a hundred years of the King family’s prized legacy here in Lush.
I’d be the tarnish. The black blip. The outcast.
Mama’s image of me was everything. The town respected me. Everyone wanted to be me. I couldn’t lose that. If I crumbled, so did she. So did my sibling. So did our companies.
“Miss King,” the detective said, his voice breaking through my thoughts.
I glanced at Mama. I could feel the anger and the fear radiating off her. She wanted me to protect us.
“Reese was jealous.” I almost gagged on the words.
Mama inhaled sharply beside me.
Screams and shouts—the music cutting off as the speaker went over the edge. The sound of fists hitting skin. The boat rocking, a body slipping?—
“Jealous of what?” the detective pushed, and I could feel his eyes drilling into me. He wasn’t buying it.
The blanket around me suddenly felt too tight, too heavy. My head was pounding, and my nails were digging into my palms.
“Reese didn’t want me with Conrad.” I swallowed hard, my breath coming in short gasps. It was easier this way. Reese wasn’t the victim here. He was the villain. I’d make him the villain.
“Why wouldn’t Reese want you with Conrad?”
Don’t do this, Laurene. Reese loves you. You love him. Stand up to your mother for once in your fucking pathetic, privileged life.
“Because Conrad was everything Reese couldn’t be. He was always better than Reese—more successful, more liked. Reese couldn’t stand it. He was…frustrated.”
And just like that, I betrayed the love of my life.
Mama didn’t say anything, but I could feel her relief. But she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know my plan with Reese, and if she knew the truth of the relationship, this moment could have gone differently.
Mama stood abruptly. “Can we go now?”
I’d saved us. And I was still the perfect daughter.
The beach city of Lush stretched out before me like a postcard—too perfect, too idyllic. My hometown, the rich’s last-kept secret. Tucked away in the cliffs, the place where my great-great…maybe seven times great-grandfather had made his mark. Au gustus King. The man who’d fled the Black Wall Street massacre with only scraps of his wealth.
And here I was, standing in the aftermath of everything that he had been built, that now my mother maintained. The Kings’ history here was covered in blood and secrets and lies—mine included.
The memory of that night had been replaying nonstop in my brain for six years. The fucked-up truth of it I couldn’t escape. I’d gotten exactly what I wanted. I remained the perfect, innocent King daughter. I’d secured my family’s status and wealth. I didn’t have to answer for betraying Conrad.
And then—before Reese could come after me, before he could demand answers or turn on me for what I had done—I ran.
I left for Paris, untouched by the fallout, while Reese was left to rot in the mess we’d created together.
But now I was back. In the distance was a stunning collection of pastel-colored mansions, beachfront villas, and low-rise condos, their smooth stucco walls warmed by the sun. The air vibrated with the sounds of seagulls and distant boat horns as luxurious yachts passed in the marina; the scent of grapes hung heavy in the air from the nearby vineyards.
The wind whipped my hair, carrying the scent of jet fuel as I surveyed the array of luxury cars—Rolls-Royces, Bentleys, and a couple of Ferraris—lined up by the hangar with my family’s huge sign.
King Enterprises.
The empire we’d built. The empire I was a part of, for better or worse.
My grandfather’s initial textile venture merged into a conglomerate sprawling across industries: real estate, luxury goods, media, tech startups. If it could be bought, built, or leveraged for power, we owned a piece of it.
There was a sleek black SUV sitting in front of the jet. A familiar figure leaned casually against the door. “Erik? ”
“Wassup, Lulu.”
I ran down the steps toward my big brother. The last one on my side. Erik stayed in touch, even when others didn’t. All those late-night calls, the random check-ins. He always showed up when I needed him most, miles or oceans away.
He enveloped me in a bear hug and spun me around like we were kids again.
Erik, the oldest, ran King Crown Aviation, our company that built luxury planes for the rich, the famous, and, when needed, the government. He would inherit King Enterprises when Mama retired. It was the family tradition—the firstborn always inherits.
That didn’t mean Mama didn’t put the rest of us to work the moment she could.
Serena, the middle child after me by six years, ran King Developments.
It was our real estate company, and even though Serena had cut me off after I left, Erik had let me know she ran it ruthlessly.
Gigi, the baby of the family, was…well, Gigi. I’d spoken to her about a month ago. Now she decided she wanted to be a social media model.
“I’ve missed you!” I said between laughter. “Mama let you out the dungeon?”
“Somebody has to keep the empire running smoothly.” He chuckled, and set me back down. “You know how she is. One wrong move or deal, and I’m up all night in meetings or worse, getting a lecture about ‘letting the family down.’”
Yvonne King was tough on her good days, but hellish on her bad ones.
Erik was thirty-five now, two years older than me. He was taller, broader, his frame more solid than I remembered—but worn. A strong jaw, streaked with some gray hairs, told a different story. That stubble over his gleaming dark skin gave him a tough edge, but it couldn’t hide the exhaustion lurking just beneath the surface .
Six years all alone dealing with Mama—I bet that had been tough on him.
“I was surprised when Mama said I needed to pick you up. You didn’t say nothin’ about coming back home. Since when was y’all choppin’ it up again?”
I caught sight of a few staff members in crisp uniforms standing at a discreet distance. The gossip was probably already circling— Laurene King, the runaway bride back in Lush like nothing had ever happened.
“It was last-minute,” I said, swallowing the bitter taste of the lie. It hadn’t been last-minute at all. Everything in Paris had started to dry up—my gallery job was mysteriously gone. I was living paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping by. My apartment was too expensive.
It was like the universe—or Yvonne King—had conveniently shut every door until I had no choice but to come back to Lush.
Erik frowned. “Imma be honest, you might wanna rethink this. People ain’t forgot what happened.”
Being away made it crystal clear: I was done with this town. Their feelings weren’t my problem anymore. What did I owe them? The same they’d given me. Nothing.
A sleek limo came speeding down the tarmac, skidding to a stop in front of us. My heart raced. Was it him? Did Reese know I was back?
“Fuck,” Erik said under his breath.
A driver stepped out, smoothing his uniform before opening the back door to reveal Mama.
“What does Mama have planned? I know she didn’t call me back here just ’cause she missed me. She’s got something up her sleeve.” I looked at Erik.
“She’s…Mama. You know how she is. She wants you here because you’re family.”
“Bullshit. You know something, don’t you?”
“Make the right choice, Lu.”
I wasn’t the same anymore. And this town—this family— would never see the old Laurene again. I wasn’t going back. Freedom felt too good.
“Laurene.” Mama’s hair, a deep, vibrant black, was perfectly silk-pressed, gleaming under the light, a testament to her stylist’s skill—not a single gray hair in sight. She sashayed over in a sharp suit, pushing down her big sunglasses. “Glad you made it back in one piece. Did the new plane treat you well? Your brother designed it, I’m not sold on it.”
Mama cut me off when I left. Totally. Not a word. No cash. No calls. Not even a damn messenger pigeon. Just silence. Like I didn’t exist. For six years.
Out of nowhere, staff emerged to minister to my mother, swiftly collecting her bags and loading them onto the jet I just exited.
“Give us a minute, Erik,” Mama commanded him.
He met my gaze, his eyes holding that old, reassuring look—a quick flick of his thumb across his nose, his way of saying he was on my side before he headed to the SUV.
“Are we going to talk business, or just pretend it’s all fine?” I crossed my arms.
“I need to be in Palm Springs in an hour.” Her voice was smooth as she flicked dirt from under her nails.
“Why am I here, Mama?”
“I can’t want my daughter home?”
I was tired of the games. The schemes. I’d loved Paris, and here she was pulling me back into this shit.
“No. I have a life in Paris. Which is where I should be.”
“Did you forget what happened?”
“You kicked me out.”
“ You decided to leave. It was your choice.”
“A choice?” I scoffed. “You’re gonna pretend like I really had one?”
The truth was such a twisted thing in this family. It could save or destroy you—and everyone had their own warped relationship with it .
“This new attitude, Laurene, you need to fix that.”
I thinned my lips as Mama scowled and continued, “We will have this discussion later. Have your brother take you to the mansion and say hello to your father.”
She pulled her purse higher on her shoulder, brushing past me to the jet and snapping at staff, “Handle those bags like they’re worth more than your life. They’re Hermès.”
“Just tell me what you want so I can decide to stay or to go.”
“I heard things weren’t going well for you in Paris.”
I narrowed my eyes on her, “You just ‘heard’ about that?”
She didn’t look at me, but I caught the corner of her mouth twitching. “Everyone talks. I keep my ear to the ground, Laurene.”
“Have Erik get me another jet back to Paris. I’m leaving.”
I started to brush past Mama, but she grabbed my arm, spinning me around.
“Did you conveniently forget how you fucked us over? My reputation— our family’s reputation—was dragged through the mud for years because of you. Not a scandal since we founded this town, and look what you did!”
“A life was lost, Mama. You can’t just ignore that.”
Conrad didn’t deserve what happened. It wasn’t a part of the plan.
There were so many things I needed to say to her. But I knew who I was dealing with, and she wouldn’t give a damn. “Why did you call me home then? You want me in my old position?”
I had run King Investments, a small firm specializing in high-end art, luxury goods, and collectibles. I had a knack for numbers and an eye for art. I didn’t get to run galleries or host exhibitions then, though, even though I’d wanted to. Mama just wanted me to find the overlooked gems and make them shine.
Erik told me Mama tried to find a replacement for me after I left. They weren’t me. They couldn’t be me. I was great , and everyone knew it.
Mama had shut the company down out of spite .
“I called you home because you have a place in this family and I’m feeling generous . I can send you back to Paris and try again in ten years, if you want? But by then you’ll be living in a cardboard box outside of the Eiffel Tower.”
When I left home, I didn’t know where the hell I was going. No guarantees, no safety net—I just needed to escape everyone and everything. Paris was my chance for a fresh start.
Paris was rough at first. No family, no friends, nothing. The entire world seemed to be against me. I really needed money, and the art world, with all its power and pretentiousness, was my way back in.
I learned from Mama to rely on my old contacts from King Investments; they knew my family name but didn’t treat me differently or shun me when Mama disowned me.
It also helped with the occasional emails from Daddy. He couldn’t outright fight back against Mama, but he did text or email me to take a jog on the Seine. Or do some shopping around Galeries Lafayette Champs-élysées. I always ran into some old clients—art dealers, curators, even some big-name collectors. It was easy to work as a freelance consultant for galleries, curating exhibits, and managing emerging artists.
The hours were long, the pay was low, but I built a reputation. And I would be damned if I lose everything I’ve worked for.
“What’s the catch, Mama? What do you want me from me? Money? Ideas? I know last quarter was good. I reached out to Grandpa’s old partners?—”
“They turned their backs on us,” Mama snapped. “Like hell I’ll ask those traitors for anything ever again.”
Next idea: give her what she wants.
“I’m prepared to be the CFO then. Bring back King Investments, teach whatever I know. Clean exchange.”
That role wasn’t what I ever wanted. It was quick, but I could see the blueprint she’d sketched out for me reappear in her eyes now .
Her eyes narrowed as if the very thought insulted her. “I’ve got the best of the best on my board, and you sure as hell ain’t one of them.”
Get messy, she loves dirt.
“I have valuable information,” I said. “Secrets. People forgot you had a daughter in Paris. They talk when they think you’re out of reach. Your partners, your enemies, even your friends.”
“Secrets are dangerous. You sure you wanna do that again?” Her eyes didn’t flicker, but I caught the slightest twitch in her brow.
“When haven’t you been able to turn secrets into profit?”
Reese would hate this. He’d want me to fight back, escape it all. I was asking the very person who’d locked me in this cage to help me survive it.
But Paris taught me the harsh realities of survival. I battled to get what I wanted. I got good at seeing people’s weaknesses and using that to my benefit. I became well-known, not only in Parisian art galleries, but also in the city’s social scene. I got to know some powerful collectors; I helped them get access to the artists they wanted, and they promoted me.
I did well because I was good, not because of who I am. I made it on my own. People either loved or hated me, but everyone respected me. But I had my eyes on the prize. My own gallery. That was always my dream.
Till it got taken away.
She dug through her purse and pulled out a photo.
“What is this?”
It was a version of me I’d buried, smiling beside Conrad at my engagement party.
“It’s part of our family’s history,” she said. “You can’t run from your past, no matter how much you try to bury it.”
My gaze shifted to the figure next to Conrad in the photo: Reese . His face was grim, unlike our fake smiles.
Mama snapped her fingers and all the staff disappeared.
“When I took on this role after your grandpa Ben,” she began, her voice cold, “I expanded this empire— not for me, Laurene, but for you, for your siblings, for our legacy. Every decision, every sacrifice I made, was not for you to throw it all away on your petty little feelings . You think I stifled you, but I wanted you to thrive . I wanted you to have the choices I never had.”
I figured I could outrun the guilt, but it just got worse.
“Love’s complicated. It ain’t always soft. Sometimes it means pushing you to be better, even if it hurts. Despite all this, I do love you.”
I took a peek at the engagement photo. I’d put duty before love, and it had messed everything up.
“You are here to remind this town why the Kings are indispensable. We made this fucking town, and our mayor, Dante is forgetting it. People are now threatening that.”
“How is our power being threatened?”
“He’s bringing in outsiders, cutting us out of deals, making the economy less family-dominated. He and others are trying to erase the past. Erase us . I will not let that happen. Augustus King’s legacy will remain intact.”
“And why would they trust me ?”
She smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re my daughter. That still carries weight. Serena doesn’t have the same…charm as you do to help me with this. It requires finesse.”
“What do I get out of helping you?”
Mama’s smirk deepened. “The money your grandfather left. It’s all yours once you’ve proven you can still deliver.”
I stiffened. When I left, Mama all but scrubbed me from the family’s websites, boards, and social connections. The money I had saved wasn’t a fraction that was left in my trust.
That money could fix everything for me. It could finally get me the gallery I’d been saving and working for.
“Deliver what?”
“I need you to get close to Dante. Make him trust you. Find out who he’s working with, what he’s planning—where he’s vulnerable,” she said simply. “I taught you to be the best, and only you can do this for me, Laurene.”
She paced in front of me.
“He won’t talk to me. I need to stay ahead of Dante. So, our only option is the Ashbournes,” Mama said sullenly, as if the words themselves left a bad taste in her mouth.
I stared at her. “The Ashbournes? You’re telling me we need to team up with them? Again?” I scoffed. “You’ve hated them for decades.”
She didn’t flinch. “I hate them, but right now, they’re the only ones who can help us. Dante’s carving up our territory—securing votes, locking in contracts, flipping our allies. The Ashbournes have connections we don’t. Leverage we need.”
“We’ve got to cozy up to the Ashbournes to fend off Dante?”
Mama waved her hand dismissively. “Harold Ashbourne’s old, but he’s not blind. He sees the writing on the wall.”
My chest tightened. “The Ashbournes, the very people who’d love to see us fall. What’s next, you want to make a deal with the devil himself?”
She shot me a cold glance, her lips curling into a tight smile. “Sometimes, Laurene, you’ve got to make the devil your ally. Harold’s greed makes him territorial, but even he knows this is no longer a one-family game. If we fall, they fall next.”
“Desperation doesn’t look good on you, Mama.”
What the hell had happened to Lush?
“Why can’t Serena help you with this takeover plan? Are you—” Realization hit me. “You’re asking me to?—”
“You will honor the arrangement with Conrad.”
Ice ran through my body. “He’s dead. ”
“Yes,” she said, “but the contract still stands.”
“Who am I marrying?” I said slowly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Please, please no.
“You’ll marry the brother.”
The brother.
The man I once loved, the man I trusted, the man who was now my enemy. And she expected me to walk down the aisle with him?
“I can’t marry him. You can’t ask me to do this. Not with him. Not now. Not ever.”
“You’ll do it, Laurene,” Mama said. “There’s no ‘can’t.’ You’ll marry Reese. Blood and marriage makes us stronger. And Harold won’t fuck us over if he can lose something too.”
“I don’t love him.” I forced the lie out, and I felt my heart pulse in pain as I said it.
“Love is a luxury .”
“There’s other ways?—”
“No.”
“Then let’s talk parameters. How long do I have to stay married to him?”
“We need to stick together long enough to make our alliances strong and show everyone how solid we are. And until I see if Dante is a friend or foe.”
“One year?” I asked, trying to find some leverage. “Two?”
Her gaze remained icy. “Three years, minimum. I would prefer five. Any less, and it will look like a failure on both our parts. During this time, you are to live together publicly and privately. Separate lives are unacceptable.”
“Five years?” I looked at her like she had fully lost it. “I’m not putting my life on hold for five years.” I had plans. Things to accomplish. “Can we divorce after that?”
“Divorce and annulment will be a family decision.”
I glared at her. “I’m forced into this marriage, and it’s up to the family if I can divorce after? What if I’m miserable?”
“This family’s needs come before your happiness. Remember, you have nothing in Paris anymore.”
“And what about children?” I was scared to asked.
“Within the first two years,” Mama stated. “You are to produce at least one heir. This is non-negotiable.”
“You can’t force me to have a child.”
Her lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “You misunderstand. I’m not forcing you, Laurene. I’m giving you a choice . You can have everything your grandfather intended for you, or you can walk away with nothing.”
“This is my life .”
“You don’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out. You will marry Reese, and you will fulfill your duty. Any concessions I grant are mere courtesies, not rights.”
“And what about Reese? What if he refuses?” I asked, hoping that he might be the way out of this madness.
Her smile faded. “Reese will do as he’s told. Harold made sure of it.”
“And if he cheats?” That idea made me feel like someone punched me in the gut. Reese with another woman was not something I wanted to imagine.
Her eyes hardened. “Publicly, you will stand by him. There will be no scandals, no fractures in the alliance. Discretion is everything, or you’ll both suffer.”
“If I don’t agree?” My voice faltered, but I steadied myself. “What if I just walk away? What will you do?”
Her smile turned predatory, the kind I’d seen before when she dismantled a competitor or crushed an opponent.
“That little life you built in Paris? It’s already gone. Your apartment? Gone. Your bank account? Cleared. I’ve made sure of it. And as for your inheritance, the future you think you have waiting for you? You don’t have one unless you play this game.”
Mama snapped her fingers, and the staff quickly returned to their positions, their faces as neutral as stone.
“We all got a role to play in this family.” Her voice dripped with condescension. “Time to step up. How you handle it? That’s on you, but I know you’ll figure it out. Stop all that whining. Toughen up.”
She turned, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement, then paused and glanced back over her shoulder.
“Oh, before I forget.”
Mama pulled a gold-embossed envelope from her purse, its gleam almost mocking the harsh sunlight. With a sense of dread tightening in my chest, I took it from her hands, fingers trembling as I opened it.
Mr. and Mrs. Vincent King and Mr. and Mrs. Harold Ashbourne
request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their children:
Laurene Elizabeth King and Reese Christopher Ashbourne
A wedding invitation.
My wedding.
Scheduled for next month.
“We can’t forget to invite the bride, can we?”