I used to be a princess in a world filled with dangerous men. I used to have friends who would protect me above everything else.
But things started slowly changing when my best friend, Enzo Black, fell in love. And then Zeke, my other protector, fell in love next. It’s only a matter of time until Langston, the playboy of the group, falls in love.
I could call any one of them to take care of the man who sent this threat. Enzo, Zeke, or Langston all have the power and abilities to handle this man without lifting a finger. That’s what they do—kill dangerous men. They protect their family, which used to include me.
Until they failed me.
Until they fell in love.
Until I decided I didn’t want to be a damsel in distress, waiting for a man to come and rescue me.
I saved myself.
I picked up every broken, shattered piece and put myself back together, painstakingly, piece by piece.
I’m whole now—even if the pieces don’t fit together the same as they did before.
I’m a survivor—that’s the term used to describe me. It’s a term I hate, because I didn’t just survive, I thrived. I fought back; I rescued myself. I’m a fucking knight in red high heels.
So while I could call my friends to save me and take care of this, I’m not going to. I haven’t asked any one of them for help in years, and I’m not going to start now.
I lift my glass of scotch from my desk and swirl it around until the single ball of ice shifts in the glass, making a delicious rattling sound before I take a sip. I’m a woman in a man’s world, but that doesn’t mean I let the men rule me anymore. I won’t give any man power over me—never again.
So that leaves me two choices. I can toss this letter in the trash and ignore it completely. There is a large chance whoever sent it will never grow enough balls to actually act on his threat. Or I go back into the world I never thought I would enter again.
A world of danger.
Cruelty.
Vows.
And lies.
A world that once consumed me. A world that turned me into the cold, heartless woman I’ve become. A world that took everything from me, yet gave me my power.
I thought I was done.
I thought this chapter of my life was over, buried.
I could leave it alone. For years, I’ve done everything I can to stay out of this life. To stay away from the evil that lurks in the night. Not because I’m afraid of the darkness hurting me. Not because I’m afraid that the man making the threat will actually succeed. Even if he did succeed, I’m not afraid of death.
No, I’ve stayed away from the darkness because I haven’t wanted to become the villain I’m capable of being. Once the darkness surrounds me, I’ll no longer be the princess. I’ll become the evil queen. Once I let it in, there is no way to get it out. That’s why I’ve put up walls around my heart, to keep the vile out, the wickedness I can become.
But why?
Why can’t I turn into the evil queen?
My friends and family are gone. The only man in my life is more than capable of taking care of himself.
I shouldn’t go back to this life.
I should crumple the letter up and toss it into the fireplace to burn.
I should forget the threat until it comes true.
But I feel the walls lowering around my heart. All the men in my life are able to stay safe and protect those they love, because they don’t fight the worst parts of themselves.
Enzo is a controlling bastard, who rules his world by loving Kai.
Zeke protects those he loves no matter the cost it inflicts on himself.
And Langston hurts others to protect himself.
All three men have done more than survived; they’ve become kings. They’ve languished and destroyed their enemies. They’ve gained enough power that no man dares to make threats like this.
It’s time I try their tactics.
I toss the rest of the scotch back into my throat before slamming the glass down on my desk with a sinful grin across my red-painted lips.
The evil that I locked in my heart is free. I’m going to use every bit of its power to take care of this threat myself, so no man or woman will ever threaten me again.
2
Langston
I sit in the darkness.
I love the darkness, but I hate waiting.
I’m not a patient man. I leave that to my friend, Zeke.
But my excited anticipation keeps me seated in this pine smelling office. I glance around the room as my eyes quickly adjust to the lack of light.
The office is just what you’d expect from a rich prick with no taste. A large mahogany desk with an oversized office chair in the center of the main wall with the large oval-shaped window behind the chair. Why wouldn’t you want to look out the window when you work? It’s all for show.
The same with the large bookshelf filled with self-help books, classics, and business books. None look like they’ve ever been read.
There is a piece of art by Picasso finishing the room. But I know how big the man’s bank account is. At best, it’s a print; at worst, it’s a complete knock off. A fake—just like this room, just like the man.
And then I spot the one thing in the room that looks like it has been used—the liquor cart.
I get up from my chair and pick up the bottle of scotch sitting on the cart and read the label. Highland Park Orcadian—an expensive bottle that’s been aged a long time.
My eyebrows shoot up in pleasant surprise as I pour myself a glass. I walk back to my chair, my wait greatly improved now that I have an excellent glass of scotch to keep me company.
I take a sip and then spew the liquid everywhere as I lift the glass to eye level to get a better look. I sniff the liquid, and it smells as retched as it tastes. There is no way this is what’s listed on the label.
I shake my head in disbelief as I set the glass down on the desk, making sure not to use a coaster so a ring will form on the ridiculously ugly desk. That’s what he gets for trying to trick people into thinking they are drinking expensive liquor when I doubt he paid more than fifty bucks for that shit.
My patience is waning when I finally hear the front door open.
“This condo is amazing,” the woman with him says, shouting too loudly and giving this condo way too much credit. The condo is a mass-produced, overpriced box.
“Not as amazing as you are,” he says back.
I roll my eyes at the ridiculous line. But it’s not going to take much to impress this woman. She’s drunk and clearly impressed with what she perceives as his wealth. She doesn’t know real wealth. She doesn’t know that real money is passed through generations and earned by spilling blood of others.
This man is barely a millionaire. He doesn’t have the billions that flow through the Black empire, my employer.
My plan was to wait in the office for him to come to me. He works in security. He should easily realize that his security system was turned off already when he came in. I purposefully scuffed my shoes along his rug until the corner lifted, and turned the frame crooked on the wall in the office hallway.
He should know I’m here within minutes.
If this were my home, I would know the second the alarm was turned off.
So I try to remain patient and let him come to me. But, again, I’m not patient. From the moaning and groaning floating down the hallway, it doesn’t seem like he is paying attention to any of the clues I left for him.