A Crown of Ashes
Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want.
Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat.
Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?
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Chapter: chapter 10: Blood and DesireSienna’s boots crunched on dry pine needles, the shack a fading speck behind them as she and Roman cut deeper into the woods. The truck’s bloody mess was miles back, that scream still ringing in her skull, but the air here was still—too still—thick with the tang of sap and something sharper, like metal or smoke. Her fingers flexed around the vial in her pocket, its cold glass a tether to whatever hell Dorian had left her, and Roman walked ahead, his stride long and sure, gun tucked close, his silence loud enough to grate on her nerves.“Say something,” she snapped, voice low, cutting through the quiet. Her breath puffed in the chill, her jacket stiff with dried mud, and she hated how exposed she felt—out here, with him, no walls to lean on.He glanced back, eyes catching the faint starlight—dark, steady, peeling her open in a way that made her skin itch. “What’s to say?” he said, voice rough, low, like he’d swallowed gravel. “We’re moving. That’s it.” But there was a hitch in it, a c
Last Updated: 2025-03-06
Chapter: Chapter 9: Blood on the boards The shack shook as the door rattled, a hard thud that snapped Sienna’s head up, her heart slamming against her ribs. That warped voice—“He’s bleeding already”—still echoed in her ears, cold and mean, and Roman stood there, gun raised, his eyes locked on her like she was the only thing in the room. The headlights outside cut through the cracked window, painting his face in harsh streaks—jaw tight, stubble dark, too damn steady when everything was spinning. “Get back,” he said, voice low, rough, cutting through the hum of the truck outside. He stepped toward the door, putting himself between her and it, and damn if it didn’t piss her off—how he acted like her shield, how it made her feel something she didn’t want to name. “No way,” she shot back, voice sharp, grabbing the poker again—cold, solid in her grip. “I’m not cowering while they play this out.” Her eyes flicked to his, and there it was—that look, dark and heavy, burning into her, and it hit her hard, low in her gut, a heat sh
Last Updated: 2025-03-06
Chapter: Chapter Eight: Heat in the hollowThe drizzle had faded, leaving the woods damp and quiet, the air thick with pine and the faint rot of wet earth. Sienna leaned against the shack’s warped wall, her breath fogging in the chill, the vial a cold lump in her pocket. Roman stood by the busted window, peering out, his silhouette sharp against the faint moonlight—broad shoulders, torn coat, too damn still for the mess they were in. The radio’s threat—“Bring the vial, or he pays”—still gnawed at her, but her mind was stuck somewhere else, pulled by the way he moved, the way he filled the space.“Anything out there?” she asked, voice low, rough from the cold, trying to shake the itch crawling up her spine. She rubbed her arms, the cut on her forearm stinging under crusted blood, but it wasn’t the pain nagging her—it was him, standing there like he owned the dark.He turned, slow, his eyes catching hers—dark, steady, cutting through the dim. “Nothing yet,” he said, voice low, gravelly, like he’d smoked too much or shouted too l
Last Updated: 2025-03-05
Chapter: Chapter 7: Static and SteelThe radio’s voice hung in the shack like smoke, low and warped—“Bring the vial. Cliff road, now—or he pays.” Sienna’s gut twisted, the vial a cold weight in her hand, her breath catching on the static’s last hiss. Roman stood stiff by the door, gun up, his eyes boring into hers—dark, steady, asking questions she didn’t have answers for. The twig snap outside hit like a slap, sharp and close, and her pulse kicked hard.“Who’s ‘he’?” she said again, voice low, rough, barely holding steady. She stepped toward Roman, the floor creaking under her boots, the air thick with damp and him—too close, too real.“Dunno,” he said, sharp and quiet, his head tilting toward the door. “But they’re here. Move back.” He shifted, putting himself between her and whatever was out there, his shoulder brushing hers—quick, firm, enough to spark a dumb flicker she shoved down fast.“No chance,” she snapped, pocketing the vial and grabbing a rusted poker from the stove. It was heavy, cold, better than nothing.
Last Updated: 2025-03-05
Chapter: Chapter six: Drowning in MudWater slammed into Sienna’s chest, cold and black, clawing her down like it had teeth. She choked, lungs burning, kicking against the flood swallowing the basement. Roman’s hand locked around her arm, fingers digging in hard, dragging her through the mess toward where the stairs used to be. Her pocket sagged with the vial’s weight, that damn glass nagging her, and Ezra’s laugh still rang in her head—his smug ass waving the key like a prize.“Grab something!” Roman shouted, voice torn over the rush, his other hand scrabbling at the wall’s edge, now just a crumbled lip of concrete. The water was winning, surging up her ribs, tugging at her soaked jacket. She gagged on it, tasting mud and salt, her arm screaming where the knife had cut—blood swirling red in the dark churn.“Grab what?” she yelled back, thrashing, boots slipping for any hold. His face was right there—wet hair plastered flat, eyes blazing dark and fierce, pinning hers like she was all that mattered. It hit her, that look,
Last Updated: 2025-02-28
Chapter: Chapter five: Cold water, Hot liesEzra’s laugh lingered in the dark, sharp and low, creeping down the basement stairs like a chill Sienna couldn’t shake. Her chest heaved, heart banging against her ribs, her hand still buzzing from where she’d held the key—now gone, dropped in the black with that cursed vial. The air down here was heavy, wet, pressing too close, and Roman was right there, his breath rough on her neck, too damn near for comfort.“Don’t move,” he muttered, voice scraped low, his hand brushing her arm as he shifted—a quick graze, rough fingertips catching her skin. It hit her wrong, a flicker of heat she didn’t want, not now, not with him breathing down her neck like that.“Don’t move?” she shot back, sharp and quiet, jerking away from his touch. “He’s practically on us, you idiot.” She squinted into the nothing, eyes burning to see something—anything—but it was all shadow, thick and suffocating. The lights were dead, the cabinet’s guts spilled out, and Ezra’s boots scraped closer, slow and cocky, like h
Last Updated: 2025-02-28
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