Reign of a King (Kingdom Duet #1) by Rina Kent

“Listen to your partner, Ms Hussaini,” Jonathan chimes in.

Layla ignores him and focuses on me. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I can take care of him.”

“Text me if anything happens,” she leans in to whisper so only I can hear her. “If he hurts you in any way, I’m going to kick him in that straight nose of his, maybe bring it down to earth a little. Remember how I sent that thug who tried to rob us to the A&E? Next up will be Jonathan King’s nose.”

I smile, nodding as she finally releases me. Before leaving, she stops in front of Jonathan. She’s so tiny next to him, it would be comical under different circumstances.

“I have a black belt in karate and two of my brothers are captains in the British Army,” she tells him ever so casually.

“Lay…” I shake my head. The last thing she wants to do is threaten him or put herself on his radar.

Jonathan raises a brow. “Is that a threat, Ms Hussaini?”

“It’s a piece of information, freely provided.” Behind his back, she motions at me to text her, then leaves.

As the door closes behind her with a loud click, I feel the gravity of the situation before Jonathan even says a word.

I gulp down all the emotions rising to the surface and hold eye contact. I’ve never found a problem doing that with anyone in the past.

Now is different.

Everything is. Starting with the man who’s standing in the middle of my office like he owns it — which, in a way, he does.

Maintaining eye contact with Jonathan is like being ripped to pieces and not having the ability to do anything about it. He feeds off my energy in the most savage way, and he has no plans to return it.

“What do you want, Jonathan?”

“I told you what I want, and you purposefully went against it. Very bold.”

I swallow as he rounds my desk and lowers himself onto my chair with utter confidence as if it’s always been his.

My legs are barely keeping me standing, so I don’t attempt to move from my position. “Are you going to leave me alone now?”

He laughs, the sound hollow and frightening. “I’ll take that as a joke.”

“You got what you wanted. Ethan is already out.”

“True, but I did it, not you. Why should you be rewarded for it?”

“So, what? You’ll just own my company?”

“My company, but I digress.”

“You can’t do that.”

“It’s already done.” He places his elbows on the surface of the desk and leans over, forming a steeple at his chin. “Unless you’re willing to offer payment.”

I perk up, hope blossoming in my chest like fireworks. “I am. I’ll pay anything.”

“Anything? Careful, wild one. That’s a strong word to use.”

“I meant within reason, and only if you allow us to pay in instalments.”

“Instalments. I like that idea.”

“Right.” I round the sofa to stand in front of my desk, the one he so bluntly made his. “You can even keep some of your shares as a form of investment if you like.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” I’m blurting things out now, but I don’t care as long as it gets us our company back. “Layla and I might even be willing to offer you a bit more than what you paid for the shares. All we need is the option to pay in instalments and time until our next product is launched.”

“Shares and money aren’t the payment I was thinking of.”

I frown. “Then what is?”

“You, Aurora.”





9





Aurora





I stare at Jonathan with what must look like a blank expression.

For the second time in the span of a few minutes, he’s put me completely out of my element. It’s like I’m suddenly stripped to my most basic form and I can’t begin to explain what’s happening.

“What did you just say?” I murmur, resisting the urge to fall on the chair opposite my desk – the one he’s sitting behind like it’s always been his to snatch. This whole situation feels like it’s always been his to start and own.

“You heard me.” Jonathan’s expression remains calm, bored even, as if he didn’t suggest that he take…me.

“What do you mean exactly by taking me for payment?” My voice regains some of its edge.

“It’s as simple as it sounds. In exchange for transferring full ownership of the stocks, I want you to pay for them by becoming mine.”

My cheeks heat with the humiliation of the thought, but my voice comes out strong and clear. “I’m not a whore.”

“You’ll be mine, not my whore. There’s a difference. I’m not interested in a slut. If I were, I could’ve gotten her off the streets or scooped one up at a party. They’re not worth the hundreds of thousands I paid for H&H’s stocks.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel flattered or something?”

“It’s not my purpose, but if you are, by all means.”

The dick.

My blood boils with the need to hit him across the face and scream bloody murder. But even I recognise that with Jonathan, he’ll make it seem like I’m the one who committed murder, not the other way around.