Abby “Do you, Abby, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” I hold my hand up in the air and nod solemnly. “I do.” “Let us begin.” Despite the lump in my throat, I feel shockingly optimistic about today. Maybe it’s the fact that the sun is shining through the large window o
“Apologies for the delay, Your Honor,” the man says. The judge simply nods. “Come in.” A moment later, three men come in; two men in suits and sunglasses, flanking a regal-looking man in a plain black suit. My heart skips as I realize that I recognize the man from somewhere: the art gallery in
Karl Abby is doing so great during her testimony. She’s practically a natural at this, and is telling every little detail of her story—even the upsetting or downright embarrassing parts. I should be here for her, and I am; but part of me is somewhere else. Ever since that regal-looking Alpha wal
Abby My hand rests instinctively over my belly as I step through the front doors of my restaurant for the first time in ages. Dust motes dance in the late afternoon sunlight that’s streaming through the windows as Chloe and Leah follow me inside. Leah lets out a low whistle once we turn on the l
Asshole. Either way, it’s over now. Damon’s father, Reginald, offered absolutely no help to Damon. He let his son go to prison, cut him off from the family money, and disowned him publicly. Alpha Hendrick and Alexander Black got put behind bars, too. And now that the truth is out, La Belle Vie i
Karl As I walk up to the small, discreet cafe on the city block, I take a deep, shuddering breath. The phone call that I finally made a few days ago after weeks of dragging my feet has finally led me here—to speak with Reginald, the strangely familiar king. I still don’t know why he wants to mee
My eyes widen slightly. For a moment, I guess I had some sort of hope that I would not only regain a father, but a mother as well. But she’s gone, and I never even got to know her. “As the king, I had no choice but to remarry,” he continues. “For political purposes, I married a princess of a for
Abby When Karl finishes telling me about the amazing revelations that he had with Reginald—his father, as I’ve now learned—over coffee, I’m too stunned to speak for a long time. “So,” he says, “I think I’m going to go to his estate. And I’d like you to come.” I blink in surprise, swallow, and