Page 22 of Scorned Queen

“You are.You have to give me something.If you prefer, we can have you join a dating site.Maybe Damion would prefer that to himself being exposed?”She doesn’t wait for an answer.She eyes her watch and taps it.“We’re late.”She motions to Cheryl.“Why aren’t you finishing her hair?”She snaps her fingers.“Get her into wardrobe.”She stands up and walks toward the door, and I stare after her as she disappears into the hallway.

Why would she push this hard for such a thing when Damion’s her boss?Unless his spot on the board doesn’t actually give him that power?I reject that idea the minute it pops in my head.No.That’s wrong.Damionhasthe power, which means nothing about what just happened adds up.There’s something off, something I’m not understanding.

Cheryl’s gentle hand settles on my shoulder.“You okay?”

“Yes.”I rotate around to face her.“I’m fine.Thank you.”

“Don’t let her get to you,” she whispers.“And don’t let her ruin a good thing between you and Damion.”

I think we’re pretty good at that ourselves, I think, but all I say is, “Thank you.I won’t.”

She smiles her approval.“Let’s get you ready for the camera.”

I nod and rotate to the mirror, and once Cheryl is fiddling with my hair again, I glance at the card in my hand, but I don’t open it.At that point, I decisively slide it into my front jeans pocket.This place suddenly feels like a living, breathing creature that is as dangerous as it is intrusive.I’d much prefer to read the note later, when I’m alone, when it’s just about me and Damion, not ratings.

Chapter nineteen

Damion

Istepofftheelevator on the twenty-fifth floor of the West Building, and my gaze locks on the crown on the wall in the center of the West name.The arrogant prick that is my father really sees himself as a king, and therefore the ruling class, and therefore what he wishes to take, he will take.

In his mind, it’s his right.

Just as it’s my right as the younger generation to take his crown and send him into retirement.

I grit my teeth and cut right toward the lobby, pushing past the glass doors and into the reception area.A grand, bult-in desk with some sort of fucked-up wave-like design sits center stage.Debbie, my father’s receptionist of five years, sits behind that ridiculous designer desk, her red hair pinned in an extreme bun.

“Good morning, Damion,” she says, greeting me by my first name, as I prefer, while my father is Mr.West to her and everyone else; his name always spoken with a hint of fear.

Just how he likes it.

“Morning, Debbie,” I greet.“Is my father in?”

Her spine stiffens and she bristles.“Yes, he is.”

“That good of a mood, huh?”

“He’s about average as far as I can see.”

In other words, he’s always a jerk to her and everyone who works for him.No surprise there.Literally, this entire floor is about catering to him and his moods.Here is where he has a dedicated staff, a fully stocked bar, a gym, a spa, and a personal chef who serves only him, all of which he pays for by destroying other people.What excited me as a young buck is now disgusting to me as a grown man.But it’s true that I wanted to be like him.

Just like him.

That’s the me I do not want Alana to ever know.

“I’m afraid I’m about to make it worse, Debbie,” I warn, “so take cover.”

Her face pinches with dread.“Do you have to?”

“We’ll all be better for it,” I promise, after which I round her desk and enter the hallway that leads toward my father’s office.There are consequences to his actions, and he is no longer immune, nor will he ever be again.So yes, I will be king one day, and sooner than he thinks, or this company will cease to exist.

It’s the only way this can end.

Making the past right is the only way I stand any chance of her allowing me to wake up next to her every day for the rest of my life.Protecting her is no longer about sheltering her; it’s about arming her with the truth.My father made sure of that the day he first slept with her mother and set the future in play.

So yes, hell will come calling in the process of his dethroning, and it will be brutal, but when it’s over, as I just told Debbie, it will be for the better, and not for a few, but for many.Not sunshine and rainbows, but better.

I enter the alcove that is the exterior of my father’s office, and I’m not surprised to find the secretary desk outside his office empty.He can’t keep the seat filled, firing them all for doing nothing more than breathing.No wonder he has to have a mistress that’s well-bribed and on her knees for him.Like Alana’s mother, I think bitterly.I hope like hell I’m wrong, but a part of me isn’t so sure her mother is as innocent as she seems, and that coming to light would destroy Alana.

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