Redeemed Royal (Duke of Tudor #3) Read Online Amarie Avant

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Duke of Tudor Series by Amarie Avant
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
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“And I’m telling you, if you don’t finish the story, I will.” She starts to wrench the engagement ring around her finger.

“I very damn well swear, Luxury,” I grit out. “You will use this conversation as fuel then.”

“I will!”

“Eugene begged your mum to ask God’s forgiveness and return to your father. After enduring war—”

“Enduring war! What the hell, Victor?” Luxury stops fidgeting with her fingers to shove my chest.

“Yes! War. Murder changes people. I will not attest to his mental stability. I’m divulging what he said at your insistence.”

Mouth contrite, she mutters, “Continue.”

“Eugene created an angel out of your mum. So, he gave her almost all night to change her mind. She didn’t. She stayed true to Charles. I’ve shared this information with him. Now, you must know, Little One, she was alive until sometime the next day before you came.”

Luxury’s eyes bite shut. She staves off intense emotion with a deep breath.

"Charles could have saved her. It was truly an unfortunate . . .” I pause. No words will lessen the blow.

“I’m ready.” Her tone has curved into unmerciful, collected malice. “Let’s get out, Vic.”

I’m gritting my teeth at the commotion at the door while quickly assessing Luxury.

Luxury claimed that Madeline was all hers to avenge. But is my fiancée truly ready?

As my gander scrapes over Luxury for further assurance that she’s all right, my lady drops a placating hand onto my forearm. “Whatever you do, from this moment on, do not be angry with your mother.”

I’m worried about you, and you bring up that woman. “Who?” I growl.

“Vic, we both agreed that pending Mary’s involvement, you’ll handle her. Still, in the meantime, Proverbs 25:21 to 22 is how you’ll proceed.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re speaking of.”

She laughs softly, some semblance of her usual self. “Get out, Vicky.”

“No, Vicky,” I growl, folding her in my protective embrace. My heavy gaze weighs on Luxury for a long moment, drinking in her form, adoring my Little One, before I cup her face in my hand. I press my lips against hers, lingering in the kiss.

“I can’t read your mind, chit. The second you’re done, we’re done with the whole lot of them. I’ve seen the look of devastation on your face. I’ll not allow it any longer. Have I made myself clear?”

“As long as you don’t murder Madeline, we’re understood.”

Princess Mary’s blue eyes ice over with irritation. She’s folded her arms over and sulks on the bottom step of her home. Our eyes are a hard match as I silently warn my mother.

“Hello, son.” Her chin juts as she hugs me. “Your poor Grandmother Sarah is waiting for you. Graham is also here.” She mentions my brother and then mumbles, “It seems each of my sons has returned to me with their trash today. Your father might as well, too.”

I stop her as she tries to hook her arm in mine.

Luxury is only a yard away. Her faint hello is dismissed, carried away by the wind.

“Did you hear my fiancée’s greeting? I will require the same respect to Luxury as she is an extension of me.”

“Nonsense. That” Mary’s glare drags up and down Lux, “and this ludicrous marriage proposal is the reason my mother had a heart attack.” She turns away and walks into her home.

Negative. Sarah learned of our engagement the following day. “You are sorely mistaken, Mum. Luxury is the reason I am on speaking terms with you.”

As my mother falls to the floor, I stare in contempt. A bloody servant saves her from any real pain at the very last second.

“Put her somewhere,” I order, returning my attention to Luxury. It seems she’s in her own little world. Even if she’s disregarded the princess’s words or didn’t hear them, my mother is in a shite load of trouble.

“We just have to get to dinner. Anyone who harmed you will pay,” I whisper.

“I’m fine,” Luxury assures.

“Oh, the dramatics,” Graham says, stepping into the foyer, wearing a checkered sweater and khaki shorts. “I imagine Mother ceasing her favorite pastime only if she actually awakens on the floor.”

“Almost succeeded. Perhaps she will make another attempt.” I stalk past my little brother as he cheerfully meanders to Luxury and swoops down to embrace her.

Once complete, I step to my woman’s side, and she’s whispering for me to spend time with my brother. If she believes the opposite is not the norm, she’s sorely mistaken.

But I stay to catch up with Graham as he follows the servant carrying our unconscious mother down the long corridor.

As if we were deep in conversation, my brother gloats, “I just realized you and I are one and the same these days, apart from your bank account. So, the money allows you to cover up our disassociation with the Queen.”

I snort, strolling at his side. “I prefer democracy.”

“I’m inclined to agree. What sort of grandmum is Her Majesty? I'd rather be a lucky bloke, a mere commoner, not wedged somewhere in between.”


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