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

Tears gather in my eyes as I shake my head frantically. I don’t attempt to speak, because I have no clue what to say, and something tells me I’d burst out in sobs.

I don’t want Jonathan — or anyone — to see me that way.

“You will be.” His thumb slides under my eyes, gathering the unshed tears and wiping them away. “Do you trust me?”

I stare at him, taken aback by his sudden question.

If he’d asked me that in the past, my answer would’ve been a definite no — especially after I heard Alicia’s message. However, ever since that turned out to be null, there’s been something morbid growing inside me for this man. Maybe trust is part of that?

When I don’t answer, he grabs me by the hand, where the wound is almost healed. “You’ll have to trust me on this one.”

Before I can make out what he means, Jonathan drags me to his car. As soon as we slide inside, Moses drives out at full speed. I physically push back against the seat cushions from the force of it.

Jonathan straps a seatbelt across my chest, then asks Moses, “Is everything set?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did Harris confirm?”

“Yes, the flight is scheduled upon your arrival.”

“Whoa. Hold on.” I stare between Moses’s bald head and Jonathan. “What flight? Where are we going?”

“Away from here,” Jonathan says simply.

“Away, where?”

He runs his knuckles over my cheek, and I resist the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch. He always gets to me when he does that. “A place where they can’t find you.”

“T-they?”

“My resources tell me the prosecutor will issue a warrant to bring you in for questioning, and there might be a travel ban.”

“They can find me?”

“If Maxim’s lawyer can, so can they. Besides, he’s the one who revealed your new identity.”

“Won’t I, you know, be considered a fugitive if I leave the country?”

“There’s no travel ban at the moment. This is completely legal, but even if it isn’t, who fucking cares? I won’t let them have you under custody until the trial — that’s out of the question. Besides, you need to clear your head.” His hand grabs both of mine before he lifts them and kisses my knuckles. “You haven’t stopped shaking.”

I’m breathless, caught in a trance by the way his lips glide over the back of my hands. He’s not only kissing them, but in his own way, he’s also comforting me.

Who knew there would be a day where Jonathan King comforts me?

“There. That’s much better.” He cradles my hands, which have stopped trembling, on his lap.

It takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around him in a hug. He’s offering me an attentiveness that I never thought anyone, let alone he of all people, would show me.

“Then what?” I murmur now that I’m in a calmer state.

His thumb traces the back of my hand, eliciting small bursts of comfort. “I’ll figure it out, but for now, we need to stay away from the media turmoil. When they find out you’re no longer here, Maxim’s lawyer will play a media game and fully expose your new identity. We’re not only talking about where you’re living and your company, but everything he already knows will be discussed by the entire country.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe out in a low murmur. The scenarios he’s painting in my head form like a black doom.

“I know it's a difficult time, Aurora, but we need to get ready for all possibilities.”

“Oh my God! What about H&H and Layla?”

“Harris is on it. I currently own H&H, so Layla should be fine, but I can’t guarantee they won’t harass her or her family. They should go stay someplace else. I have Harris arranging a safe hotel for them. Can you ask her to go with him?”

“Uh…yeah.” I pull my phone and wince when I find about ten missed calls from Jonathan and five from her.

Jonathan’s hawk-like attention doesn’t miss what’s on my screen and his tone hardens. “And next time, answer my fucking calls, Aurora.”

“I’m sorry. I…wasn’t thinking.” I’m still not — not straight, anyway.

“You were with Ethan.”

“I’m thankful he was there.”

Jonathan’s grip tightens around my wrist, but he says nothing. He also recognises that I shouldn’t have been alone in the midst of people who most likely would’ve gotten my head on a stick.

I dial Layla and she answers after the first ring. “What the F, mate! Don’t ghost me. That stuff gives me PTSD now.”

“Sorry, Lay. Something came up.”

“No kidding. Harris is at our house, saying we need to go, or something.”

“Yeah, Lay, please go with him. I…I’m so sorry I got you, Kenza, and Hamza involved in this. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

The whole case is public now, and she’ll see it eventually. However, I don’t want her to hear about it from strangers. “Maxim Griffin, the one who’s currently all over the news?”

“What about that psycho?”

“H-he’s my father, Lay.”