Never King’s -The King Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
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“Unless the threat was so big, so horrible…”

“But you would fight, Jeni. You would never give him up.” Dad paused. “He’s what you feared and loved most about King.”

My mind whiplashed. Not because he was right, but because he wasn’t. Draco was innocent and new. He was joy. King was tormented and dark. There was nothing good to love about King except for his determination to survive and his utter dedication to Mia. King was raw power, cold granite, and corrosive acid. Draco was light, hope, and everything sweet life had to offer.

“Who told you that, Dad?”

“What?”

“That Draco was what I feared and loved most about King.”

Dad’s face fell into a blank slate. “I don’t remember.”

Strange. Because it’s something I’d never say. “Doesn’t matter.” I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Because he’s gone, and I’m never getting him back.”

Dad grabbed me and held me tight for a long moment before he finally let go. “Maybe you’re right. If you really believe you did this, then you have to let him go. You know you’d never put him anywhere else but in safe care.”

“I know,” I whispered.

Suddenly, my head felt strange. So did this conversation. Almost like I wasn’t in control of my own thoughts.

And why had my father capitulated so easily? He accepted that his grandson was gone with the snap of a finger.

Then again, so had I. Something was definitely wrong.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

King

Two weeks later…

I parked in front of the blue house just down the street from Jeni’s father’s place. I’d had to pull many strings, dole out a mountain of bribes, and bend more than a few arms to finally get answers. All answers led here. To this house.

I went around the side and entered through the back. Moving boxes were piled up in the kitchen, dirty dishes were in the sink, and a dagger sat on the counter.

I went into the living room and found what I was looking for. His back was to me as he stared between curtains out the window.

“Hello, Ansin,” I said.

He swiveled and reached for his belt.

“Looking for this?” I held up the dagger.

His dark eyes narrowed, and his lips flattened. “What the hell are you doing here, King?”

“I should say the same. Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” I’d called Jeni’s father a few days ago, and he’d shared the unfortunate news from Jeni. Ansin had died. I’d then told him to forget I called, just like I’d told him to forget about my visit a few weeks earlier. Jeni did not need to know I was still alive and trying to find Draco.

Today, I felt differently. There was much she needed to know, starting with Ansin’s lies.

Ansin stared with a ferocious snarl, knowing he’d been caught and not liking it one bit.

Oh, poor baby. “Let us cut straight to the chase, Ansin. I know it was you. I know you are responsible for everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, doing his best to sound sincere. But I could see his mind working. He was assessing his options.

I had his dagger, so he had to rule out killing me again. Perhaps he’d attempt to run? No, not his style. Ansin was the sort to face things head-on when cornered. That left him with lying. Let’s see what he has to say for himself.

“I kept asking myself,” I said, “why would you go through so much effort to make us believe that Jeni had hidden Draco? Then I asked something far more important: Who taught Jeni to drain power from others? Or to brainwash her father into forgetting key elements of the day Draco disappeared along with Draco’s life?”

“And what brilliant conclusion did you arrive at, King? Do tell because I’m on fucking pins and needles.”

Not the time for acting like a miserable fuck, my friend. It was time for him to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Because I had a big glass cookie jar with his head’s name on it out in my car.

“You’ll be interested to know that I found a death certificate for a baby born that day to a Jeni Arnold. A little girl. But there is no record of Draco.” I rushed at him, threw him to the floor, and wrapped my fingers around his neck. “What sick fucking joke is this, Ansin?”

“You were dead. You were not supposed to come back.” He pushed my hands away. “It was Jeni I was trying to deceive, not you. This was all for her. All of it.”

“I will give you exactly one minute to explain, and then I’m going to remove your head, Ansin.”

Jeni

I was getting ready to do absolutely nothing for the day, just like the day before and the day before that. I’d promised to give myself one more week, and then I would put on my big-girl pants and start making plans. Mostly, what to do with the rest of my life. Go back to school? Get a job? Sit in the park and feed the ducks? They were all options.


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