Reign by Wrath (The Rogues #3) Read Online Ruby Vincent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Rogues Series by Ruby Vincent
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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Was there a file on Ronin on my father’s laptop? Was he holding something over him that ensured his obedience until the end of time? Would Wolf O’Rourke use that leverage to put the boot on the throat of this silent, scarred man who was protecting me?

“Ronin?”

A slight turn of his head was the only indication that he heard me and was listening.

“I know a little of what my father has done to become leader of the Rogues. I was told that you guys both hate and love him. Which is it for you?”

His reply was immediate.

“I hate Alistair Burkhardt.”

“Oh.” I sank back in my seat, head falling forward. Maybe it wasn’t a betrayal. How could I betray a man I didn’t know?

“But.”

Blinking, I raised my head. “But?”

“But,” Ronin said, “I’ll die for him.”

We didn’t say more for the rest of the drive. There was nothing more to say.

Ronin dropped me off in front of the gate. Like Alistair wanted, Frank saw me coming up the drive and opened the gate without comment. I was welcome in the Burkhardt mansion at any time.

My ancestral home.

I thought about that during the long walk to the front doors. What would it have been like to be a Burkhardt? Alistair told me that in a family like his, the whole family stays together. Lives together.

I would’ve grown up right alongside Saylor. My best friends would’ve been Gabriella, Katie, Piper, and Everleigh too. All those fun, giggly adventures Saylor and her friends talked about in those texts. I would’ve shared in those just as much as their cruel pranks. Family vacations in Cabo taken together. Fancy private schools, ours to conquer.

An entire alternative life that was so close but out of my reach.

I placed my foot on the first step and the front door opened. Alistair smiled at me from the threshold.

“You didn’t have to walk. I would’ve driven down to the gate and picked you up.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind the walk.”

“Come in,” he said, taking my hand. “Your mom told me your favorite food is breakfast food. I had Chef make us eggs Benedict and chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Yum.”

“We won’t be eating in the same room,” he said. “Think it’s best we put some distance between you and Saylor.”

“Does that mean I can’t get the tour?” I forced a smile on my lips. “I’ve been here twice but haven’t really seen the place. I’m curious now since this was supposed to be my home.”

“Course you can. Want to start outside with the gardens, three pools, and the greenhouse? Or inside with the two bowling alleys, five home theaters, and off-limits chef’s kitchen?”

I laughed. “Let’s go off-limits first.”

Alistair flicked my nose, eyes warm. “Definitely my daughter.”

I ducked my head, hoping he didn’t catch my flinch.

I knew the Burkhardt mansion was grand from the exterior and the little I’d seen on the inside, but that didn’t stop my mouth from dropping multiple times as he led me through the house. I finally gave up and let it hang open.

One summer vacation, Jack took the whole family to England for three weeks of sightseeing, pubs, and Harry Potter set tours. I’d been inside Buckingham Palace, the home of an actual queen, and I could say without a doubt that Saylor Burkhardt was living better.

Everywhere we went, there was a member of staff offering to do this or get us that. Screamingly expensive furniture, paintings, electronics, and fabrics followed us from room to room. It felt like one big show palace—meant to be looked at but not touched.

“It looks cold and uninviting,” Alistair said, reading my expression with surprising insight. We were passing through another endless hallway. “But it’s home. Just imagine what it was like playing hide-and-seek.”

“I imagine it took hours— no, days for you and your brother to find each other.”

He tapped his nose. “Dario never found me.”

“Where’s your childhood room?” I heard myself say. “Is it the room you’re staying in? Can I see it?”

“It is, and you can, but it looks nothing like it did from my teen years. Mother had every trace of me stripped and turned it into another of the many guest rooms.”

“That’s okay. I still want to see it.”

“This way. It’s two floors up and in the east wing.”

“I thought this was the east wing?”

“It’s the northwest wing. The kitchen was in the east wing.”

My eyes bugged. “We left the kitchen behind like an hour ago. What kind of never-ending maze is this place?”

Swallowing the rest of my grumbles, we made the trek back to the east wing. My body stiffened with each step, tightening my jaw and leaving me quieter and quieter.

I was stupid before. I acted without thinking or including anyone in the decision. Those choices almost killed me and put my boyfriends in danger. Knowing when to act is everything.


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