War and His Queen (Carpe Noctem #1) Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Carpe Noctem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
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I shiver.

Despite the gaudy art hanging on the porcelain walls, the house itself feels like a barren womb deserving of love. She was just the wrong woman to carry it.

The clacking of heels intrudes on the dark melancholy sound of Rachmaninoff, the “Isle of the Dead”, that seems to continue to play subtly throughout the house. Creepy, honestly, when you think of what the piece depicts.

In a flurry of white silk and cherry red hair, Katsia Stuprum makes her way down the stairs, her blood red nails a stark contrast to the achromic color palette of the house.

“Afternoon, Kings and—” She pauses for a moment when her Jimmy Choos hit the bottom, her eyes holding mine.

I raise a challenging brow at her. “Still a King.”

She blinks, but hides whatever she’s thinking behind a vacant smile, allowing her naked body to slip through the crack of her silk robe. “Follow me.”

War turns over his shoulder a little, and I know he’s looking at me. Or at the very least, he’s wanting to say something. Probably to yell at me, since we haven’t spoken after what happened last night.

I turn to face Vaden and Priest, only to find them both regarding me already.

“What?”

Vaden shakes his head slowly, rolling his eyes before following War down the long corridor.

Priest doesn’t move. His eyes remain on me, his jaw tight. “I’m allowing this to happen, Halen. You may run circles around Dad, but nothing goes without my signing off.”

“I know that!” I chide, folding my arms in front of myself. Even though we know it’s a shit time for a brother-sister discussion, we also know that we aren’t going anywhere until both of us understand the other. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Halen, I’m not telling you this because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I know you can. This is about you making more of a mess out of a situation because you react out of emotion.”

My mouth opens, and then closes.

Part of me doesn’t even want to ask what the fuck he’s on about. “I’m here for the same reason you all are, Priest.”

I step backward, needing distance from him. There weren’t many times in my life where I was surprised by my brother. He did what he wanted and made no apologies. He came into this world with a brutal amount of insouciance and carried it like a sixth sense.

“It’s not the same, Halen,” he challenges.

“We will talk later.”

I cut him off by stepping around his body and following the trail the rest of them left behind. Passing canvas after canvas, my steps slow as they begin to conflate together.

A door swings open at the end of the hall, pulling me out of my haze. As soon as I’m inside, my skin prickles with unease. There’s a large spa built inground, with a waterfall flowing from the ceiling. Perfumed steam wanders through the air with crisp notes of pine and lemon. A Venetian-stained desk sits adjacent to a generous-sized bookshelf that curves around to another room. Directly opposite us are large floor-to-ceiling windows that give a direct view to the sharp cliff drop and boundless ocean.

“Did you know,” she begins, but I don’t take my eyes off the view. “This was the first room that was built in this house?” I can’t help but feel like she’s directing this at me, but again, I can’t seem to release myself from the view. “They built it here to keep an eye on the pirates that would try to come. Do you know what the pirates would do when they would try to settle here in Perdita, Halen?”

I finally pull my eyes from the view and watch as she slowly drops her satin robe, dipping her toe into the velvet water.

“No, Katsia, I don’t.” I make an effort to not ask shit about her.

I glance at her tits. They’re great tits. Kudos to her.

She finally lowers herself into the bath and reaches for a long champagne flute beside her, holding my eyes. “Unimpressive.”

“Enough.” Priest closes the door behind himself. “That’s not why we’re here, Katsia. You know that.”

“Hmm.” Her smirk presses against her glass. The longer I look at her, the more I feel myself heat. I’ve never liked her much, and I had only met her once. I could take it. Take her, this island, and everything she thinks she sits so royally on.

But then I know I’d cause a scene, a scene that War and Priest would have been expecting me to create. One that they want me to create, because then I would prove them right. That I’m not ready.

I look around her space, noting the blank walls. Before I can stop myself, my feet are carrying me to a photo frame where a young girl stands, smiling broadly down the camera lens. Beside her is a young boy. He seems agile, if not for the lashes across his face.


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