Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
TITAN
“You have to give her time, Titan,” Bones says from behind me. “First, her dad and now, her mom.” He sighs. “It’s a lot.”
“Yeah.” I nod in agreement. “I guess not everyone hates their parents like we did.”
I was never close with my mom or my dad. My mother was a drunk who loved her addiction more than she could ever love me. My father was married to Kingdom. He lived for it. He also died for it. My mother drank herself into a coma, and my father was killed in his house. The killer was never identified, but I think it was someone in his inner circle. There was no sign of a break-in or a struggle. They found him dead on his living room floor with a single gunshot wound to the head. Whoever did it took pity on him.
The only thing he left me was Kingdom. Twenty-five percent of a multibillion-dollar business.
I didn’t want it, but that didn’t matter. I was an only child, and I was to carry on the legacy. Just like the rest of the Dark Kings.
Bones, Grave, Cross, and I had our future planned for us before we were even born.
“This is who you are,” my father once said. “You were born a king, and you will die a king.” It was utter bullshit. But I stepped up and took over his position. As did the others. Mr. Reed is the only remaining original Three Wisemen alive. But he retired years ago, signing over his shares to his sons, Grave and Bones.
“I only hate one of my parents,” Bones mumbles.
We don’t speak of his mother. She was a saint in a world full of devils. But there’s a saying—the good die young.
“Titan?”
I let out a growl at the sound of my name.
“What?” I snap.
“Please give these to Miss York.” Mr. Yan holds out a set of papers. “I have tried to reach George, but he’s not returning my calls.”
“Yeah, well, get in line,” Bones growls.
Mr. Yan frowns, shoving his glasses up his pudgy nose. “You’re looking for him as well?”
We don’t answer.
He runs a hand through his jet-black hair. “I tried to explain to George that Mr. York did not have a will.”
Bones and I exchange a look. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, Nick hadn’t come to me to set up his arrangements. But George was persistent that Nick had, in fact, a trust. He had seen it.”
“So how did you get it?” Bones asks.
“George found it. In the safe at the York residence.”
I yank the papers from his hand and shove him away from us. “Hey …”
We ignore him. “So the trust that George presented to Emilee was a fake?” I say.
“Obviously, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Why he would use a fake when he was technically already married to Nancy?” Bones adds.
“But … we spoke to Luca. He said that the trust was legit. So maybe George knew about them, but Yan didn’t?” I offer.
“Fuck,” Bones hisses.
“He wanted Emilee, but why?” I go on. “Why force her and not just try to seduce her?”
He shrugs. “Maybe he knew she’d see through his bullshit? Or maybe he didn’t want to wait the amount of time that would take. In that time, Em could find out that he was married to Nancy. And poof, his plan would be exposed.”
I bow my head and run my hand down my face. I have a fucking headache. “We need to find him. We need answers.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EMILEE
I SIT AT my father’s desk. Leaning back in the chair, I have my Jimmy Choo ombre Tartini Swarovski Crystal heels up on the surface. They’re my favorite. My mother gave them to me for my birthday a couple of years back. I felt they were fitting to wear to her funeral today. Their divorce papers and my mother’s marriage license to George in my hands.
They were fucking married! I can’t comprehend it. I can’t figure out what I missed. I never saw them flirt or even speak. George was over a lot—in this very room—but my mother never ventured in here. This was my father’s space. We spent holidays, birthdays, and vacations with him when I was growing up.
She never smiled at George. Never even looked his way. So why marry him? When did they fall in love? And why the urgency to move so fast? Maybe because of her diagnosis?
I’ll never get those answers. Not now. She’s dead. George is gone. The house is hauntingly silent. It mocks me. Memories I had inside of these walls were nothing but lies. But it makes me think … Did my father have someone? Was he seeing someone behind my mother’s back too? Maybe he was married to someone else. I had gone online and checked. Nevada has public records, but I couldn’t find anything regarding his remarrying. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t go to another state to do it.