A Vicious Proposal (The Fallen Kings of Eden)

by Kristy Marie

I don’t know his real name, but I loved his psychotic ass for one magical summer—until he left me without a word.

I take the protein bar out and scribble Coward on the wrapper.

it’s the fear from the words painted in ash on the ground: Betrayer.

The ash lettering is his signature, but it’s not the one he uses when punishing those who wronged him.

For that, he leaves a sunflower burnt into the ground—where the protein bar lies in the center, right next to my missing shoe.

It’s a warning—one he’s never...

He’s coming for me, and I bett...

Undoubtedly, last night’s encounter upset his moody ass, but surely not enough to kill me.

But seriously, what did he expect me to do? Hug him? Fall to my knees and kiss his tight ass for finally gracing me with his presence after he up and disappeared, leaving me waiting at our meet-up point like a total idiot?

He always left them a way out, but to take it, they would lose everything else. As soon as they were free, their most prized possession would go up in flames.

It was their punishment—though I never knew for what, but each of Van Gogh’s victims escaped with their lives.

This fire—the one he set for me—is my punishment. I have wronged him somehow, and as soon as I put out this fire and get myself to safety...

“You didn’t think this through, lover!” I shout out into the open air, knowing Van can hear me,

“For the crime of betrayal, Reese Carmichael, I sentence you to six years as my prisoner.” I flash her a wink and a smile. “I believe society calls that a marriage.”

Van Gogh would set everything she loved on fire, but Alistair Cain would make her pay for the life she took in a more boring way—legally.

All who wrong me pay for their actions—even those I once loved.

“I liked it better when you just stared at me and set fires.”

Six years with this woman is just asking for a murder charge.

I know that look. It’s the same one I make right before I unleash havoc.

If there was anything Van and I bonded over, it was fire.

We were weird and a little psycho.

“In the shadows of the west, she grows stronger at night…”

“To follow her true love east, knowing the price of his warmth, is her soul.”

“Are you saying there are ghosts in there?” “Not ghosts,” he corrects. “Killers.”

She’s a pint-size ball of fire. We’ve always ignited when we were together. Our personalities clashed as much as they found common ground.

“Shakespeare.” I point to my youngest brother,

“Tennyson, my middle brother.”

“And this is Bach.”

Shakespeare chuckles at all of us. He’s the deadliest and the snarkiest. He’s also the most unpredictable.

Shakespeare. Bach. Tennyson. The greatest playwriter of all time. The musical prodigy. The famed poet.

Van is one of a kind. He’s protective yet threatening. Loyal but vengeful. Loving but cold. He’s a hard man to love, but I did,

“I’m the butler for The House of Enoch.”

“Enoch,” he says finally, “is a man of tradition. I am the son of Enoch,” he continues, like we’re in biblical times. “Shakespeare, Bach, and Tennyson are my brothers. We are heirs to an undeserved throne.”

“Flower,” he yells, his voice threatening and low, “if you wanted to play a game, darling, you should have told me. You know hide-and-seek is my favorite.”

“He’s a judge,” she notes. “He is,” I agree, “but here, we call him teacher—the Father of Eden.”

Maybe I just thought, somewhere deep inside him, he really did come back for me,

I thought him forcing me to marry him was his way of admitting he wanted to be with me,

“I can see why he is obsessed with her.”

“I was the assistant district attorney on Alistair’s case.” Enoch’s calm timbre breaks through my irrational thoughts. “I was the one who offered him a plea deal.”

“All of my sons are gifted and will change the world someday.”

“A promise to me is not like a promise to others. To be my son, I require only one thing, and that one thing is something my children fear losing.”

“Tennyson is a thief?”

“No matter how much you hate me, Husband, I will always be the one thing you can’t destroy.”

“Enoch’s family left him an oil empire that he shares with us.”

“Enoch believes money is not the same thing as wealth. He works because wealth is earned, not given.”

“My husband is a good man,” she claims. “He doesn’t kill innocent people, but if he does, I would have no problem abandoning my loyalty as his wife to spare a human life. My husband wants justice. He would never take it from someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“It seems she knows you rather well, brother. Dare I say, she might even have real feelings for you.”

“If my brother is the saintly man you claim, then you’ll have no trouble agreeing to be his wife for another six years.”

My girl is resourceful. She always has been. She can adapt to any situation and find a way out. She’s an escape artist. You could say, a common criminal that no one has ever caught, except me. I know her betrayal was an escape plan.

She was Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.