The Broken Puppet (Elite Kings Club, #2)

by Amo Jones

I’m just about to close the door when a woman’s voice stops me. “Excuse me!” she interrupts from the main entrance. “Madison? Montgomery?” I look her up and down, not sure whether I should respond or drive off. How could she know my name? The young boy stills, his jaw tensing. “Uhh.” I internally battle with how to answer. Looking at her again, I notice how she’s dressed immaculately. Tight black pencil skirt, blood-red silk blouse, dark hair pinned up in a tight high ponytail, sharp stilettos. Oh yeah, this woman oozes power and money. “Yeah?” My brain-to-mouth filter malfunctions, because I sure as fuck did not authorize that answer. “She doesn’t need a reservation.” The woman floats down the marble steps and makes her way toward us. “I don’t?” I reply, confusion no doubt evident on my face. “No, honey.” She smiles, taking my hand. “Come on in. I’ll get the keys to your room.” She must know my father; that’s the only explanation I have. Because how else would she know my name and who I am? Looking over my shoulder at the young valet, his face is tilted toward the ground, his expressions not visible from where I’m walking. When he looks back to me, his eyes catch mine like a magnet, and I instantly feel a strange sense of familiarity with him. His eyes are milk chocolate, his skin pale, his cheekbones are high and defined, and his jaw is angular. From what I can tell, he can’t be older than sixteen, maybe seventeen—he’s young. His body isn’t very large either; it’s more o...