I came to California to escape the Duke of Blackwich’s poison, and all this time, he’s had his talons sank into the very fabric of Emerald Beach.
I can’t escape my father. He’s in my blood, my marrow. His poison eats away at me from the inside out.
Claudia twists a lock of hair around her perfectly manicured finger. “If you’re referring to Cleo, I know she’s with you. The silly bitch has been posting on her social media. You should probably tell her to stop, lestmypeople figure out where she’s hiding. Don’t think the walls of your castle will protect her from my wrath.”
I watch the duke’s face carefully. He remains perfectly stoic, refusing to give anything away. But I think I can just see the vein above his eye throb with rage.I bet he didn’t know about Cleo’s post.
But all he says is, “Your authority doesn’t stretch across borders.”
“Doesn’t it now?” Claws smiles. From the outside, she appears a glamorous Emerald Beach teenager, all golden hair and Ice Queen eyes, but I see she’s in scorpion mode. She has her pincers bared to distract her quarry while she raises her poison tail. “Let me get straight to the point, Blackwich. You know who I am, and I know who you are – you’re the one bringing Grey Death into Emerald Beach. You were also the one who had Dylan O’Connor killed. Did Cleo tell you that she gave away that little nugget? I have enough evidence to go public with Dylan’s murder – what a fun scandal that will be for your gutter press.”
His nostrils flare. “It would be unwise to threaten me, Claudia August.”
She smiles at his use of her real name. “You may be right – I have secrets that can destroy you, but you hold my secrets, too. What happens next is up to you, and what you believe I’m capable of. Perhaps I’m just crazy enough not to care about our stalemate. Perhaps I have the police in my pocket, and I’ll get off scot-free if you try to dob me in. Perhaps no one will believe you that an eighteen-year-old Valley girl is the head of a crime empire. You’ll have to take your chances. Or, we can accept our mutually assured destruction and reach an amicable agreement.”
The duke steeples his fingers once more. “I’m listening.”
“Nero Lucian has been funding your expansion into Emerald Beach. Don’t deny it – Cleo told me everything. Nero has been using his chokehold over my predecessor, Brutus, to muscle in on the drug trade, which is Lucian territory. That’s over now. Here’s what’s going to happen – you no longer deal with Nero. If you want to sell inmycity, you go through me. My cut is fifty percent of profits. I won’t accept any less, and I’ll need to have my accountant look over your books. If I find out you’re short-changing me, my vengeance will be swift.”
“Fifty percent?” The duke’s nostrils flare. She’s got his attention. “What makes you think for a moment I’d agree to these terms? Nero is more powerful than you.”
“Is he now?” Claudia smiles again. I love watching her work over my father, taking his carefully laid plans and throwing them into the sun. “Askyour peoplewhat happened on New Year’s Eve when Nero found himself without a shipment of women for his clients. Without the support of Lucian’s trade routes, he’s not as powerful as he thinks he is.Icontrol the flow of goods into and out of this city, which is the key to expanding your drug trade in the US. I may be little, but I’m mighty. Remember,Duke, Lucian and Dio are fighting over who will marryme. They don’t know yet that I’m going to marry your son. Your heir will inherit the empire we build together. What do you say to that?”
I purse my lips, trying to hold in all the things I want to say. I can’t bear to listen to Claudia talk about a child,ourchild, so callously. Not after she promised me that she’d consider it if I could get myself together.
I’ve been so, so good. I haven’t caved on my celibacy, even though my balls have shrunk into my body from underuse. I haven’t had a drink in over a week, unless you count the three shots of ouzo I had needed to get to sleep last night. Which I don’t count, because everyone knows that Jesus himself drank wine so he could sleep, especially when he was forcing himself to remain celibate and his rock-hard cock didn’t know when to quit.
Jesus and I have a lot in common.
I’ve been doing everythingright, hoping she’ll see that I could be a good father, trying to resist the pull of sweet substance oblivion to be there for my queen. But she’s been so busy helping George bust down walls and riffle through closets looking for treasure, I don’t think she’s even noticed my new leaf.
I know what she discovered about Ainsley Malloy has freaked her out, but that doesn’t mean she has to follow in her father’s footsteps. I’d rather not have a child at all than let my father use them as a pawn.
The duke leans back in his chair. It takes everything I have to remain casual, to leer at the computer and scream in his face.
I could use a drink.
“We’re not interested,” he says. “We will take our chances with the status quo.”
A figure walks around my father’s desk and drapes herself over his shoulders. It’s Cleo. She’s wearing another cropped designer hoodie and a wide-brimmed straw hat that hides hersacer. She waves into the camera and blows me a kiss.
“Claudia, Gabriel, hiiiiiii,” she drawls. “So cool to see you again.”
Claudia hisses through her teeth.
The duke turns to Cleo, and with a tone like he’s discussing the weather, says, “I think it’s time you told them our news.”
News? What news?
“You should have taken the duke’s offer to marry me while you had the chance, boo.” Cleo places her hand over her flat stomach and flashes me the look of a snake closing in on a tasty mouse. “You’re too late. I just got back from the doctor. I’m pregnant with the duke’s child. As soon as we’re wed, my baby will inherit the title and the Blackwich estate, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
11
Claudia
“Ican’t believe she’s going to marry that old goat,” George says as she stuffs a second candy bar into her mouth. It’s lunchtime at Stonehurst Prep, and she’s flipping through Cleo’s social media and the UK papers, where the headlines loudly proclaim the impending divorce for the Duke and Duchess of Blackwich. George shows me a selfie of Cleo and the duke sitting on the edge of the artificial lake. Gabriel’s father almost looksrelaxed.
I’d be relaxed, too, if I was fucking someone fifty-five years my junior. I’d be peaches and fucking cream.
