The Secret King. C.J. Miller

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      Casimir’s existence and true parentage was a secret from everyone in the world, except his mother and DeSante, whom Casimir had allowed into his confidence when he was fifteen.

      When his father had died, so had his mother’s chance of revealing to her ex-husband his true heir. With false accusations about her participation in his and his brother’s murders and her conviction without a trial, her life had spiraled further into darkness. Anna had sworn to Casimir all his life that she still loved his father. His death had robbed her of the family reunion she had not-so-secretly wished for. Anna had believed that Constantine would see that she had been loyal and that Katarina would be revealed as a liar.

      That hadn’t happened.

      When Anna had heard rumors that Constantine and Charles had been killed by Charles’s son, Samuel, in an effort to usurp the throne, she had made Casimir swear he would avenge his father’s death by killing the king who had stolen his life.

Chapter 2

      Iliana recognized the country calling code for Icarus and felt a jolt of adrenaline. She had arrived at the castle early that morning to start work and she was eager for a tussle with DeSante’s goons.

      They thought they could push Serena around because she was young and had been distant from her father for some years. There had been no bad blood between Serena and her father, but Serena preferred the quiet of her beach house and the private pursuit of her interests. She hadn’t been idle. She had painted a number of amazing landscapes and was making a name for herself—at least, under her alias—in the international art community. Iliana had brokered deals for her in the United States, Canada, Italy and France as well as throughout the Mediterranean. Iliana’s law degree had some use after all, which was a mild salve on her ego, considering she’d failed the bar exam three times.

      “Princess Serena’s office. How may I help you?”

      “Iliana.”

      One word and Iliana knew instantly she was speaking with Demetrius DeSante, Serena’s enemy and the biggest bully in the Mediterranean. He thought he could push around smaller countries like Acacia. Maybe he had the stronger navy and maybe his economy was larger, but he wouldn’t push Serena around and he wouldn’t push Iliana around either.

      “This is she. Who is calling, please?” Pretending she was unaware would knock his ego down a peg.

      He had the gall to laugh. Pompous jerk. “This is President DeSante. Iliana, I enjoy our talks so much. But please, call me Demetrius.”

      They had spoken twice before. Iliana had been openly hostile both times and she didn’t regret it. “President? Is that your official title? I mostly hear you referred to as a dictator.”

      He was quiet for a beat and she wondered if she’d gone too far. Her mouth had gotten her in trouble before.

      “I will take great delight in winning you over and hearing you call me by my given name.”

      A little shiver of relief mixed with pleasure danced over her. “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that.”

      “Such hostility from someone I barely know. Of course, I would like to know you better. You’ve proven to be quite spirited. I like that in a companion.”

      Companion? What did that mean? Like a friend or a prostitute? She would be neither to him. Her heart raced and it was not because she found his confidence appealing. He was appalling. She would be wise to remember that. “What is it that you want? The princess is not available right now.”

      “Such a shame. I was hoping to speak with her this morning about several pressing matters.”

      “If you tell me what they are, I will relate them to the princess.” She wondered if he would tell her anything. In the past, he had refused to give her details of why he was anxious to meet in person and speak with Serena.

      “Her father kept the peace between Icarus and Rizari. I need to know the princess’s stance on that.”

      Was DeSante interested in peace in the region or did he want to stir up trouble? “I can assure you the princess wants no bloodshed.” Iliana shuddered, remembering the night of the king and Princess Danae’s murder. Serena had commanded her to hide in a closet and then had run off to aid her father and sister. Risky and bold, it was the side of Serena that came roaring to life in defense of the people she loved. When Iliana had left the closet where she’d hidden with several other women, the ballroom had looked like a slaughterhouse. Even now, the ballroom had not been reopened. Iliana wondered if it ever would be.

      “What do you want, Iliana? Because you sound like you want to wrap your hands around my throat and throttle me, which wouldn’t be keeping with the princess’s desire for peace.”

      She scoffed. “I don’t want to wrap my hands around your anything.” Why did that image elicit a strange stirring in her stomach?

      “Perhaps you’re attracted to me and you hate that, so you’re lashing out.”

      “I am not attracted to you.” Except it was a lie. The first time she had met him in person, she had had no defense against the rush of sensations. Her body had tingled and though he had been professional with her, she’d harbored some decidedly nonprofessional thoughts about him, his mouth, his body. She chalked it up to hormones. Her attraction to the dictator meant nothing. Handsome on the outside, he was a troll on the inside. Handsome could trick her hormones. Mean would prevent her from doing anything about it.

      “What is it that bothers you most about me?” DeSante asked.

      Listing his deficiencies could get her killed. At least, if rumors were true. “I do not feel safe enough to honestly answer that question.”

      “You are afraid of me?” He sounded surprised. Wasn’t he accustomed to fear from his countrymen?

      “I am afraid of nothing. I just don’t want to disappear.” Or be murdered in her bed.

      “You have nothing to fear from me. I will not hurt you. Not today and not ever. If I found out that you had been harmed, I would seek vengeance for that atrocity. A lady should never be on the receiving end of violence.”

      Why did he seem sincere? Why should she believe that? Even more, why did he sound as if he were earnestly trying to convince her? “How many people have died at your hands, believing that same thing?”

      “What I have done for my country is not something I am ashamed of. I have spilled soldiers’ blood, but I have done so for the greater good.”

      The greater good, which had fortuitously brought him into power.

      “What is most difficult is accepting that you believe I am a monster.”

      He was a monster. “Do you deny subjugating your people?”

      DeSante made a sound of disgust. “I deny it emphatically. If you are asking if my methods of leadership are harsh, then yes, they are. But I am not ashamed that every Icarus family has food on their table and important work that contributes to our economy.”

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