Empire of Hate (Empire #3) by Rina Kent

She laughs and the sound is so contagious that I smile back.

“I miss you, Peaches.”

A light gleams in her eyes. “I’m right here, Dan.”

“I still miss you. I guess I’m traumatized from all the time I spent without you.”

She gets on her tiptoes and brushes her full lips against my cheek, then whispers in my ear, “I’m going nowhere. I’ll always be by your side.”

“Even with all the babies I keep putting inside you?”

My friends call me “Levi on drugs” for loving to knock up my wife without waiting in between, but fuck them. Her opinion is the only one that matters.

“Especially because of that.” She strokes Conrad’s hair, then palms my cheek. “Thank you for giving me a family, Dan.”

“Thank you for being mine, Peaches.”

Her lips meet mine and I kiss her at the sound of our son’s giggles.



THE END

Next up is the standalone enemies to lovers book that features Kingsley Shaw, titled Empire of Lust.





Curious about Nathaniel and Knox who were mentioned in this book? You can read their stories in Empire of Desire and Empire of Sin.





For more stories about Daniel’s friends from England, you can read their books in Royal Elite Series.





WHAT’S NEXT?





Thank you so much for reading Empire of Hate! If you liked it, please leave a review.

Your support means the world to me.



If you’re thirsty for more discussions with other readers of the series, you can join the Facebook group, Rina Kent’s Spoilers Room.



Next up is a pure enemies-to-lovers book, Empire of Lust, that will feature Kingsley Shaw who was a supporting character in Empire of Hate.



If you’re curious about Levi and Astrid and want to read the start of Daniel and Nicole’s story from another angle, you can read a preview of Cruel King below.





CRUEL KING’S PREVIEW





ASTRID





You may be noble, but stay away from King.



This is the last place I should be.

Alcohol, drunk teenagers, and thumping music.

A party.

Not to be dramatic, although I probably am, this place is like my worst nightmare wrapped in super-expensive watered-down alcohol.

Now, I’m not that much of a fun-ruiner, although my best friend, Dan, would say otherwise.

Spoiler alert, don’t believe anything Dan says. He’s into drama and all that jazz.

But I promised him I’d attend one party before the summer starts. Since Dan is part of the football team, I expected him to take me to their usual thing — not that I know what that is, but I had an idea it’d be in some posh house in London.

However, the sneaky wanker chose the party. AKA the mother of all freaking parties in Royal Elite.

When Dan and I walked inside, I had to double-check to see if we were somehow trespassing into the Queen’s holiday mansion and if I should tell Her Majesty that I saw the drunk captain of the rugby team piss in her pool.

To say the place is huge would be like saying the Vikings are tiny. Okay, that was lame, but I kind of insert the Vikings in any similes I make.

Golden arcs decorate the entrance and all the way to the massive lounge area. The vaulted ceilings and the sweeping stairs only add to how ridiculously grandiose this place is — even for Royal Elite’s level. Jeez. To top it off, there are butlers serving drunk teenagers more drinks than they need.

I mean, I come from money. Scratch that. Dad is rich, I’m not. However, this is on a whole different level. Even for me.

When Dan said it was party night, I thought we’d crash in one of the popular ‘elite’ houses.

We’d drink their expensive liquor, try to pretend that we belonged to the same school that has the future prime minister and parliament members in the making, and then piss off to nurse a hangover.

But Dan forgot to mention a tiny detail about the location of the party.

It’s in the middle of freaking nowhere.

I stopped following the twists and turns Dan took with his car the moment we were out of London and no road signs came into view.

For a moment, I thought Dan was taking us to some gypsy party.

Well, this sure as hell isn’t a gypsy party.

The mansion is hidden behind tall pine trees on top of a hill — no kidding. The owner is either way too private or way too gothic.

Or both.

Aside from the attendees’ cars, there’s nothing in sight. Now that I think about it, this would be the perfect opportunity to mass murder everyone.

I can totally see this as the opening scene of a horror film.

You need to stop watching all those gory films. I can almost hear Dad scold in my mind. Oh, right. He’s not Dad. He’s Father.

That should summarise the formal nature of my relationship with Lord Clifford. He may or may not kill me for coming to this party without his permission.

One more reason why I follow Dan’s demonic plots.

I sip from my second drink. I had one shot with Dan as soon as we arrived, but then he buggered off, so now, I'm walking around with this cocktail. There's barely a burn at the end, but I have a high tolerance, so this is nothing.

I need a distraction from the scene around me. I can’t believe Dan left me — probably to go shag. Worst wingman ever.