Page 10 of Broken Queen
“What are you smiling at?” she asked.
I blinked. Everything was a good time, even being questioned by the infamous heiress; you just had to look at it from the right angle.
“Just taking in the view,” I said.
“You’re not remodeling the pool.” She lowered her sunglasses, aiming those blue half-lidded eyes at me. “Why do you insist on following me?”
I stepped closer, licking the water off of my thumb. Her eyes lingered on my tongue, and the chlorine tasted like pure lust. At this rate, the pool would get to lick her before I did, but I wanted my own taste.
“I would follow you into a fire, my queen,” I said.
A huff escaped her nostrils. She put her giant sunglasses back over her eyes, bored with the conversation.
“I don’t know what your fetish is with me,” she said, “but I’m not interested. You can try your games on my father or one of the staff members.”
“You don’t know what I have to offer.”
She gazed at me with sudden focus. Even through those oversized sunglasses, I could see her studying me. She was trying hard not to be interested, but I had baited the fish long before she even knew she was caught.
She leaned back, finding herself again. “I don’t need to know. You’re a staff member. You work for my father.” She flung a hand to the side. “And I don’t trust anyone who works for my father.”
“Your daddy doesn’t know who I am.”
She stilled. Her chin curved the slightest bit toward me, losing the battle, letting her curiosity win. I licked my lips, and her eyes darted to my tongue.
My sister had disappeared into the Marked Blooms Syndicate well over a decade ago. I had a feeling this devious little heiress would vanish too if she wasn’t careful about it. She had more enemies to worry about than little ol’ me.
“I’ve been watching you for a while now,” I said.
“Oh?” she added, her tone feigning like she was bored of me, but I knew better.
“You act all charming with Daddy Bloom in person, like you’d do anything for him and his sweet, sweet Syndicate,” I said. “But you don’t give a shit, do you? You’re using Daddy Bloom for all the riches he can give you. A little taste of power.” I grabbed my dick, squeezing the head through my jeans. “The only power I want to taste is yours.”
Her nostrils flared, then she settled back into her seat, slumping like she was suddenly irritated with me. I had hit a nerve, then.
“Go remodel a bedroom or something,” she muttered.
I bowed, then made my exit. Queen or no queen, I don’t beg for attention. But by the time I had torn apart a good chunk of the interior wall, I was bored again. The staff had been instructed not to use this side of the estate, to give me as much space as possible, and Daddy Bloom was out, which meant that I had the place to myself. I whistled, tracing my fingers along the wood framing in the hallways. Every few feet, another expensive item decorated the walkway. A gold vase. A diamond-encrusted planter. An abstract statue. But my eyes focused on the closed door at the end of the path. Nothing else was closed, so why that room?
I was smart enough to know that Gabby, my sister, was probably dead. But finding out what happened to her gave me some entertainment. A goal, really. I always needed one of those, or I lost focus.
Once I found out what happened to her, then what would I do?
As I drew closer to that room, I contemplated my options. I could kill the murderer and have fun with it. Or I could get something else out of the killer. The possibilities were endless.
I reached for the doorknob. It would probably be locked, but I had to try.
It turned. I pushed open the door.
Inside was a dark room with walls in a deep maroon. A black-and-white photo of a woman with blond hair, like an older version of my little queen, hung in a solid gold frame, a thick layer of dust resting on the glass. I skimmed my finger along it, then flicked the particles off of my fingertips, letting them scatter in the air. A tall bookcase ran along the back wall. I pressed in every few books, looking for a trap door; in the movies, they always had secret compartments when you were this rich. But nothing budged.
Then a shining case in the corner caught my eye.
On top of a black pillow sat a golden crown with rubies adorning the metal. A matching scepter lay next to it. I neared the case, my fingers twitching with excitement. My jaw clicked. There were so many things I could do with it. Sell the jewels. Use it as a bribe. Make it bait for a nice little ransom fee, getting Big Bloom on his knees in front of me. I could even shove the jewels down someone’s throat, lodging them in there until they choked on literal riches.
The case wasn’t even locked.
My fingers flinched as I held the crown. Heavy. Probably solid gold. Rubies. All for a crown. The Marked Blooms Syndicate had been around for centuries, but how far back did a relic like this go?
