My Broken Crown: Paperback

CLAUDIA
FIVE YEARS AGO

Get down.” My father’s hand on the back of my neck is
gentle, but firm. “Stay silent.”

I appreciate his care, even though I don’t need his
instructions. I’ve hidden in the secret compartment behind his desk more times than I can count, listening to his meetings and business dealings. Daddy says it’s the best way for me to learn what he does and why. Afterward, he helps me out of the tiny crawlspace hidden in the bookshelf, perches me next to the window in a leather chair that once belonged to Robert Frost, and we talk over what I heard. He listens while I dissect his supply chain conundrums and commiserate with him when he has to discipline his soldiers.

I’m nearly thirteen years old. I’ve never set foot inside a school and I can’t name the United States presidents, but I know international shipping, gun-running, and rare-artifact smuggling better than the government agents Daddy outwits every week.

He’s filled my head with everything I need to take over the
family business from him – while my mother has made sure I know all the gossip that will help me navigate the world of crime. “I want you to disarm them with your brilliance,” Daddy said to me once as he quizzed me on shipping routes for the hundredth time. “Your enemies will underestimate you, and you will use their stupidity to consolidate your power.”

That’s why when Daddy pulled me from bed tonight, I didn’t protest. I know this is just another lesson.

He’s in a hurry. His tie is creased and one of his shoelaces is untied. I point at it, and he flashes me his brilliant smile as he bends down. His fingers tremble ever so slightly as he ties the laces in bunny-ears.

Is that a tremble of old age? Daddy is sixty-two, although he doesn’t look it. He still has his hair – not golden blond like mine, but dark and wavy and luxurious. He’s reed-thin, but strong. He works out every day, lifting weights in our basement gym. Antony makes him a personalized program and meal plan to keep him healthy. Daddy is nuts about his health. He doesn’t want to be a stereotype – the fat gangster bursting from his pinstripe suit as he chews on the end of a Cuban cigar. Daddy abhors smoking, and he won’t even allow guests to light up in our home.

I don’t like the idea of Daddy getting old, but the alternative is even worse – the tremble must be old age because it can’t possibly be fear.

Daddy isn’t afraid of anything.

I’m used to being hauled away from lessons or out of bed at all hours of the night. But rarely did Daddy do it with such concern in his eyes.

He touches his fingers to his lips, then presses his kiss to my forehead. “Listen well, Claudia. I’m not certain what lesson you will learn tonight, but I fear it might be the most important one I’ve ever taught you.”

I nod. Behind Daddy’s head, a bust of the emperor Augustus stares down at me with quiet contemplation. Daddy swings the hidden panel shut. The last thing I see before the lock on the doorway clicks shut is Daddy’s eyes – hard as flint, steeling himself for whatever it is he has to do.

I lean my back against the internal wall of the compartment, keeping my breathing calm. I listen to Daddy’s leather chair creak as he shuffles papers on his desk. I hear him sigh. I wonder when—

BANG.

My heart stutters. A gunshot? Daddy, no, please—

No, not a gunshot. I’ve been at the firing range enough times to recognize the sound. Real gunshots – especially with the weapons our colleagues use – make a different noise. A dull POP.

I steady my racing heart. It’s the crack of Daddy’s door
hitting the back of the wall as someone barges in. Whoever’s here to see Daddy hasn’t even shown him the respect of knocking. My stomach twists.

Something’s wrong.

“You shut down the Bangkok deal,” the intruder yells.

“Hello to you too, Brutus.” Daddy’s warm voice reaches my ears. It’s muffled by the wooden doorway separating us, but I hear no trace of his trepidation from before.

What’s Uncle Brutus doing here? My throat closes. I understand now why Daddy is on edge. Brutus is Daddy’s tribune, although lately he’s been more of a thorn in his side. Every time Daddy makes a decision, Brutus is there to argue with him. What’s worse, in meetings with Daddy’s high ranking soldiers, Brutus’ arguments have swayed others, especially when it comes to the new markets he wants to open up.

I only met Brutus a couple of times as a kid, and he made me uneasy even then. Brutus believes, like the rest of the organization, that I’ve been sent away to boarding school. Daddy doesn’t want them to see my face, not just yet. He wants me to be powerful, to take them by surprise. “If they see you now, my beautiful daughter, I’ll be fielding marriage proposals from the most powerful families in this city, and one of those families will force my hand to accept. This way, you remain out of sight, out of mind until just the right moment.”

A cramp runs along my leg. I rub the skin, hoping the
moment will come soon. It’s hard to remain a shadow in my own life, to hide away in cupboards. But Daddy knows best. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure our empire continues after he’s gone.

I turn my attention to the situation outside. Brutus is yelling at Daddy. “…it took me weeks to arrange that shipment. And you swooped in and shut everything down. Do you have any idea of the trouble you caused? I owe money to—”

“You’ve brought this trouble down on your own head, brother.” My father’s calm voice cuts Brutus off. “You went behind my back to make that deal. You know our laws. You know the August family doesn’t deal in skin.”

Skin.

A cold shiver runs through my veins.

I know what that means. I know why my father detests the business. He learned the family business from his father, my grandfather, who ran a lucrative sex-trafficking operation among the other family assets. Julian August went down to the docks to inspect one of his father’s shipments and fell head over heels in love with a Slovenian woman with a dazzling smile and ice-blue eyes. Daddy defied his father’s wishes to marry my mother and shut down the skin trade in Emerald Beach.

It sounds as if Brutus wants to start it up again.

“It’s time you faced reality, brother,” Brutus bites back with a mocking tone. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re losing ground in the city to other gangs – gangs who don’t obey our laws. Your refusal to deal in skin just means others step in on our patch and make us look weak.”

“And we wouldn’t want to appear weak.” My father’s voice takes on a silky tone. I sense Brutus is marching himself into a trap.

“Exactly.” Another bang. I picture Brutus punching the desk for emphasis. “This is going on whether we’re a part of it or not. If we control the sex trade, you can set the rules, but right now it’s a fucking circus out there, with Nero as the ringmaster. I’m trying to preserve the reputation of the August family. We need to show that we’re still the kings of this patch. I made the deal with my own money – it was between me and Nero. It has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me. You’re my own brother, my tribune, and you sought to undermine me. A true leader listens more than he talks, and I’ve been listening to you for some time now. Do not presume to know more than I do about the reputation of this family.” My father pauses. “You’ve forced my hand. I’m sorry, brother.”

“You should be sorry. You—” There’s a couple of thuds, and Brutus cries out. I’ve heard this often enough to know what’s happened. A couple of my father’s soldiers have appeared from nowhere and seized Brutus. There’s a crash as one of Daddy’s objects breaks in the struggle.

“You swore an oath of loyalty to me, and you broke it.”
Daddy sounds so sorrowful. I imagine my father steepling his fingers together, his brow knitted in concern. “As punishment, you will wear the sacer.”

I almost cry out in surprise. In all the years I’ve listened from inside the bookshelf, I’ve never heard Daddy give out this punishment. The sacer is Daddy’s seal branded on the skin. It marks Brutus as an accursed man. This means anyone can kill him for any reason and they will be spared the consequences. Even law enforcement knows the meaning of the sacer, and they won’t investigate those killings. Daddy giving Brutus the sacer means marking his own brother for death.

“You wouldn’t do that to your only brother,” Brutus sneers. He sounds so certain, like a kid testing his father’s temper.

“You’re right about one thing. I cannot afford to appear
weak,” Daddy says. “You’ve sown dissent among my ranks. My soldiers must know what happens to those who disobey our laws.”

There’s a scuffle, a couple of thumps, the sound of books
being thrown to the floor.

“That’s your problem, Julian. You’re too concerned with law.” Brutus’ voice grows high-pitched as he struggles against his captors. “All this sacer nonsense, stopping the beast fights, letting the most lucrative businesses line the pockets of the other families. You really do believe you’re the great Emperor Augustus, just and fair. You’re so busy meting out punishments for every transgression you’ve forgotten that you run a criminal fucking empire. You’re not special. You’re not immortal. You’re certainly not morally fucking superior.”

“I know perfectly well who I am, thank you. Do me the honor of taking your punishment like a man.” Daddy’s chair creaks as he leans back. “I have spoken.”

Over Brutus’ protests, my father orders his soldier to fetch the blowtorch. The flame hisses and I know he’s holding the tip against a brand – the sword and laurel wreath that represent our family. To Brutus’ credit, he only lets out a grunt as my father accepts the brand from his captain and presses the sacer into his brother’s skin. Brutus is now an accursed man. Everyone in our world will see the mark and know that Brutus’ life no longer has worth.

“Your rule is over, Imperator,” Brutus spits as he’s dragged away. “You think one little burn and you’re in control of this city? You don’t know what’s waiting for you. You don’t—”

The office door closes, and Brutus’ cries become too faded to hear. My father’s chair squeaks. Alone now except for me, his breath comes out in ragged gasps. I wait without speaking while he collects himself.

When he swings open the door, I’m shocked at the sight of him. The ice in his eyes has cooled, and his mouth is crooked. The weight of what he’d just done to his brother, to a member of our family, weighs heavy on his shoulders. He thrusts a hand inside and helps me out, pulling me into his lap like I’m a little girl again.

“Why did I do that to Brutus?” he asks me.

“Because he betrayed our family.”

“Exactly.” He rests his forehead against mine. The sadness in his eyes is absolute. “Never forget that only those you love can truly betray you.”

My father pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his
chest beneath the ferocity of his embrace. I think about Brutus’ words, and I feel cold settle in my veins as I realize the lesson Daddy intended me to learn tonight.

Only those you love can truly betray you.

If I never love, then I can never be betrayed.

Stonehurst Prep
Book 1 - My Stolen Life
Book 2 - My Secret Heart
Book 3 - My Broken Crown
Book 4 - My Savage Empire