Rise of a Queen (Kingdom Duet #2) by Rina Kent

“Correct. Both women were…how to put it? Beautifully broken. At least, Abby was. Alicia slowly disintegrated from Jonathan.”

“What?”

“She pulled away from him after Aiden’s birth. He became her world and Jonathan was second.”

“That’s not what Aiden said. He mentioned it was Jonathan who pulled away.”

“Aiden was just a kid. He had no idea what was going on between his parents.”

“And you do?”

“Despite our rivalry, Jonathan and I remained friends. We talked.”

“Did you continue to share?”

He laughs, the sound light and amused. “Our wives? Absolutely not.”

Phew. Then whatever Layla heard about Ethan’s wife having an affair with Jonathan must’ve been a stupid rumour all along.

“So what happened? What caused you both to be at each other’s throats?”

“They both fucked up,” Agnus says from the front seat, making his presence known.

Ethan releases a breath that seems exasperated, but he nods. “We did. For net profit rivalry reasons, Jonathan arranged for someone to burn down my main coal factory in Birmingham. Due to a miscalculation, the factory caught fire while people were inside and many passed away.”

“The Great Birmingham Fire,” I gasp. It was all over the news back then. I can’t believe Jonathan was behind that.

“So you kidnapped Aiden as retaliation?” I ask.

“Correct. Though, due to another miscalculation, he was tortured for more than a week by my unwell wife and almost died. Alicia figured he was with us, and drove to find him, and that’s how she had her accident.”

“That’s why Jonathan blames you.” It all makes sense now. His aggression towards Ethan is fuelled by the past, and although the man in front of me indulges him, there’s something else to it.

He’s not as closed off as Jonathan, and he doesn’t hold grudges as long either. The reason he’s been a thorn in Jonathan’s side is probably because it brings back memories from when they were rivals or frenemies or whatever their relationship was.

“You want to be friends with him again.” I don’t voice it as a question, because I’m almost sure that’s the case.

“Friends?” He chuckles. “Are we talking about the same Jonathan?”

“He’s not a stone and you know it.”

“But he’s perfect at emulating one.”

“That’s because you keep provoking him.”

“The only way he reacts.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I smile. “But I don’t think he’s that immune to emotions. He might not feel them like everyone else, but they’re there, and I’m sure he also remembers your friendship.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“I would, and you know what? I’m going to help.”

He raises a brow. “And how are you going to do that?”

The car comes to a stop at a gas station for a refill. My grin falters as I stare out the window at the very familiar face on the TV screen inside the store.

Ethan is talking, but I’m not listening. Like a moth drawn to a deadly flame, I open the door with shaky fingers and step out.

My ears buzz, and the closer I am to the store, the more everything else is erased from my surroundings. It’s like there’s no one and nothing. No smells, no sights.

Just nothing.

I’m floating on air, unable to feel my legs. By the time I reach the counter, where the cashier and a few customers are focused on the news, I think I may fall.

I don’t.

My feet keep me planted in place as the buzz in my ears gives way to the male news anchor’s voice.

“Turmoil broke out in the juridical system today when Judge Huntington approved the parole hearing of Maxim Griffin.” The image flashes from the anchor to an archived footage of when the police first arrested Dad. He was on his way home after that call he made to me when the police grabbed him. As they led him to the car, a conceited smirk tugged at his lips. “The most notorious serial killer in the UK’s recent history has murdered seven identified women and ten others remain suspected. The ages of his victims ranged from nineteen to thirty and all carried the same physical description.

“Griffin is labelled as the Duct Tape Killer because he abducted his victims and suffocated them using silver duct tape for long periods of time that ranged from several hours to a day before he buried them behind his cabin. His daughter, sixteen years old at the time, was the one who reported seeing her father dragging a corpse out of their hunting cabin. The trial was messy and had a lot of public attention, both inside and outside of Great Britain.” The screen flashes again to show Dad during his recent interview. “A few weeks ago, Griffin conducted an interview for the first time and accused his daughter of being an accomplice. He claims the only reason the police caught him was due to being betrayed by his partner in crime.

“The Crown Prosecution Service announced that it will re-open an investigation in regards of Clarissa Griffin, who also happens to be the only alleged witness of Maxim Griffin’s crimes. The serial killer’s daughter should be twenty-seven now. In an exclusive statement, her father’s solicitor, Stephan Wayne, says that she has adopted a new identity and currently lives in London. It’s notable to mention that Clarissa disappeared right after the sentencing of her father and escaped the Witness Protection Program.” A headshot of me from eleven years ago appears on the screen. Even though it’s old, if anyone looks at it hard enough, they’ll recognise me. “The question remains. A victim or an assailant?”