Empire of Desire (Empire, #1)

by Rina Kent

The thing about ambition is that it can’t be stopped, measured, or contained.

“You told me once that reason is subjective. That means what you see as reason is entirely different from what I do.”

“Are you going to let it rule you or are you going to bring it to its knees in front of you? Because those are your only two options, Gwyneth. It’s up to you what you decide to fill it with. Strength or weakness.” I chose neither. I chose to fill it up with him.

Fuck the way she looks at me. As if I'm a god with all the answers and solutions. As if I’m the only one who can make everything right.

For someone so smart, you did something so fucking stupid, King. You should’ve never entrusted her to me.

So I say the one thing that makes sense. “After today? My husband.” The husband I’m not allowed to touch.

“If you don’t stop flaunting yourself around, if you keep provoking me and don’t stay in your lane, I’ll be inclined to take action. I’ll swallow you down so fast, there’ll be nothing left of you, let alone your sarcasm and naïveté. You’ll stare in the mirror and not recognize yourself anymore. This is my last warning and the only courtesy I will give you. Stop, Gwyneth. You don’t know what the fuck you’re dealing with. So go back to college, to your safe boys and vanilla milkshakes and boring little life.”

“But I don’t want safe and boring.” I want you. I almost say that. Almost, but I don’t get to, because his next words knock the living breath out of my lungs. “You’re well and truly fucked, baby girl.”

“From now on, if you have any sexual urges, I’ll be the only one who satisfies them.”

I’m taking away your little angel, King, and she won’t be pure and innocent anymore, because I’m taking that away, too. I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do. I don’t know what exactly she is to me or where we’ll go from here. But I know one thing for sure. Gwyneth is now mine.

“I’m her husband. Put your hands on my wife again and I’ll break them.”

If she had access to her brain, she would’ve remembered that she doesn’t know how to swim.

“What burned?” “Everything.” Her shoulders slump in my hold. “I thought the water would fix it.” “The water you don’t know how to swim in.”

“I’m pregnant, Dad.” I choke on the water I’ve been drinking, the splatters scattering on the table. There are only a few things that can make a father lose his shit. Having my baby daughter, my little angel, telling me this news nearly sends me back into a coma.