Their Reign Read online

  THEIR REIGN

  THE RITE TRILOGY BOOK 3

  A. ZAVARELLI

  NATASHA KNIGHT

  Copyright © 2022 by A. Zavarelli & Natasha Knight

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Their Reign is Book 3 of The Rite Trilogy. The books must be read in the following order:

  * * *

  His Rule

  Her Rebellion

  Their Reign

  Just click on the title of the book above to be redirected to your favorite store.

  * * *

  The Rite Trilogy is set in the world of The Society. It is the story of Mercedes De La Rosa and Judge Montgomery and the trilogy can be read as a standalone series.

  * * *

  If you’re new to The Society and would like to read the first series of books in the world, you can start with Requiem of the Soul. You can find more details and store links by clicking here.

  CONTENTS

  About This Book

  1. Judge

  2. Mercedes

  3. Mercedes

  4. Judge

  5. Judge

  6. Judge

  7. Mercedes

  8. Mercedes

  9. Judge

  10. Judge

  11. Mercedes

  12. Judge

  13. Judge

  14. Mercedes

  15. Mercedes

  16. Judge

  17. Judge

  18. Judge

  19. Mercedes

  20. Mercedes

  21. Judge

  22. Santiago

  23. Judge

  24. Judge

  25. Mercedes

  26. Mercedes

  27. Judge

  28. Judge

  29. Judge

  Epilogue

  What to read next

  Also by A. Zavarelli

  Also by Natasha Knight

  Thank you

  About Natasha Knight

  About A. Zavarelli

  1

  JUDGE

  I hold Mercedes’s shoe in my hand and free the fabric of her dress from the post. There was no one in the woods. I knew there wouldn’t be. I look around the deck for traces of blood and am relieved when I don’t find any. Taking my phone out, I scroll to Santiago’s number and step back inside.

  “Get some men out here,” I tell Raul as Santiago’s phone rings. I look around at the destruction indoors, walking through the living and dining rooms to the hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom. The phone goes to voicemail, so I disconnect. I’ll try again in a few minutes. He’s probably sleeping.

  In the closet, the stack of shoeboxes is undisturbed. She never even got to where she’d stashed the money. The bed has been made since the last time I was here but otherwise, the bedroom is untouched. In the bathroom, there’s an overturned makeup bag. A tube of mascara that’s rolled under the pedestal sink. Her various perfume bottles are intact, though. All lined up neatly along the counter.

  I study that, finding it odd. The mirror isn’t smashed. I expect it to be. I recall the television downstairs hadn’t been touched either.

  Back in the bedroom, the laundry basket of men’s clothes I’d seen when I’d first come here is gone. Georgie probably came by to pick it up at some point.

  On my way downstairs, I notice how one of the framed photos along the wall is crooked, but the rest are straight. I adjust it and look at the picture. It’s the three of them, Georgie, Solana, and Mercedes, in one of their aerial yoga classes.

  Once downstairs. I walk into the kitchen. I hear Raul talking on the phone calling men in. A beautiful vase of multicolored tulips stands on her kitchen table. The bright morning sun settles on them. There must be two dozen flowers, and they’re fresh.

  I turn and face the rooms, noticing how the couch cushions have been upended, and the coffee table is on its side, but the large sculpture of a ballerina lacing up her slipper is still standing in its place, untouched. It’s a pretty piece. There’s a stack of hardback books beside her. I can tell they’ve been artfully placed.

  “Sir,” Raul says.

  Puzzled, I turn to him.

  “They’re on their way,” he says.

  “Thank you.” My phone rings, and I look down to see it’s Santiago and answer.

  “Judge, you called?”

  “Oh, yes,” I take in those books again, the ballerina, the pretty flowers in their vase. “Apologies, Santiago. It was accidental. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “You’re sure? It’s not like you to accidentally call me.”

  “I’m sure. I’m still a little out of sorts I guess.”

  “Alright. Good night.” Santiago keeps strange hours. Ever since the explosion that disfigured him, he has lived in the dark. Until Ivy, at least. Mercedes adjusted her schedule, staying up until all hours and sleeping the mornings away until I broke her of the habit.

  “Good night, Santiago.”

  After disconnecting the call, I walk toward the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room and dip my fingers into the small potted basil plant. The soil is moist. Georgie and Solana have been taking turns watering the plants. The man I have checking the house once a day has seen them come and go. I haven’t stationed anyone to remain on site. I didn’t think it was necessary.

  But I did install a camera.

  And as I reach up to pick up the innocuous little eye from the highest shelf, I see the little red light still blinking. Still recording.

  “Raul, can you stay here until the men come? I need to go to my office.”

  He clearly finds that strange but nods.

  I switch the camera off, drop it into my pocket and walk out the door, my panic upon arrival changing, morphing into something else. Anger. Betrayal.

  The fresh lashes burn with the heat of it, and when I climb into the driver’s side of the car, my breath hisses at the contact of the seat and my raw back. I start the engine and drive to my office, dialing a number as I do.

  “Councilor Hildebrand’s office,” his secretary says.

  “This is Judge Montgomery. Is the Councilor in?”

  “Yes, sir. Just a moment.”

  Within a few moments, I hear a click and then Hildebrand comes on the line. “Judge. How are you?”

  I don’t hear concern. More curiosity. I wonder if he watched the recording they always make to keep a record. Wonder if he enjoyed what he saw. I neither like nor trust Hildebrand. But I understand him. Men like him. And I know how to maneuver around them.

  “I’ve been better,” I say.

  “Yes, I suppose you have. You should have let her take her medicine. She earned it, and you know it.”

  “Let’s put it behind us.”

  “It wasn’t appropriate, Judge. You, a Sovereign Son.”

  “And she a Sovereign daughter, let’s not forget.”

  He ignores me. “A future Councilor yourself.”

  “There isn’t even a body yet. Your counterparts may find the topic disagreeable considering the circumstances of any future appointment to The Tribunal.”

  He chuckles. “Montrose is close to eighty. How much longer do you think he’ll hold on to his seat?”

  Hildebrand is nearing sixty as far as I can guess. “Let’s have th
at discussion another time.”

  “How are you, though? I saw some of the footage. He was… brutal.”

  “As I expect he was instructed to be.”

  He clears his throat. “I need to be in court in a few minutes. What can I do for you, Judge?”

  “Tell me Vincent Douglas’s location.”

  “Now, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I would hate to see the same thing happen to him as did his sister. That’s not who we are as a Society. Besides, Ms. De La Rosa more than earned her punishment, and I’ll remind you that you chose to stand in her place. If this is about vengeance, I cannot assist you.”

  It’s my turn to chuckle as I pull into the parking lot of the courtroom where my office is located. “No, Councilor. I am not interested in vengeance. I’d like to know his location so I can be assured Ms. De La Rosa is safe.”

  “He will not come after her. He gave me his word.”

  “Well, then by all means, if he gave his word, let’s close the matter.”

  “Don’t be flippant.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Answer me a question, and I will do the same.”

  Calculating bastard. I climb out of the car and lock it. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you do it? Why invoke Vicarius? No one has in my lifetime. And for you to do it for her, a woman who is not your family, not your blood, not anything to you.”

  Ah. But therein lies the crux of it all.

  She is not merely something to me.

  She is everything.

  I stop walking, as if just realizing it myself. Because Mercedes was right the night I told her about Theron. About my fears. I am an idiot. I have feelings for this woman. Powerful feelings. Even as I know and have always known that a wife was not in the cards for me. A family of my own would always be denied me. The stock I come from would not allow for that. I know it. My grandfather knew it. And I’m pretty sure it’s why Councilor Hildebrand is in such a rush to get me seated on The Tribunal. He sees my potential.

  “Judge?”

  I blink, then draw a breath. “In all honesty, Councilor, I would not submit her to your cruelty.”

  “Hm.”

  “You and I, we understand one another,” I continue. “We always have.”

  “Yes, we have. I wonder how the power of a Councilor of The Tribunal will corrupt you when the time comes, Judge. I look forward to watching your progression.”

  “You mean my deterioration.”

  He ignores that. “You have it in you. Carlisle knew it too. When it is time, we will make a powerful team, you and I.”

  I clench my jaw. “You asked, and I answered. Now answer my question.”

  “Vincent Douglas was escorted onto a flight to Reno, Nevada, late last night. Whether or not he remained there is no longer a matter for The Tribunal.”

  I disconnect the call, relieved and irritated at once. How well does he know me? Better than I guessed? As well as my grandfather? He and Carlisle were close. They would have discussed their vision for The Tribunal, the most powerful institution within IVI.

  I enter the office, which is empty, and I realize it’s because it’s the weekend. I’m grateful I don’t have to see anyone and head directly into my office, where I lock the door and sit behind my desk. I turn on my computer, plug in my password, and navigate to the app connected to the security camera I installed in Mercedes’s condo.

  And I watch.

  I watch as a masked intruder enters from the patio door. I peer close when he fills the screen, taking in his height and build. Tall and powerful, he tears her place apart. Sort of. He takes a call, checks his watch, then disappears. I wish I’d set up more cameras because he’s out of sight for a while. I move the recording forward until early evening when I was in a dungeon of The Tribunal being whipped. Mercedes enters the living room, her steps slow, one hand over her mouth as she takes in the wreckage.

  And if I didn’t know better, I’d believe she was surprised. Especially when the masked man comes back into view and grabs her from behind. She screams. I can tell from her face. She fights him, stomping on his expensive shoes. I recognize them. He whispers something in her ear, and she pauses, then she fights him all the way out the patio door, even losing her shoe in the process as he carries her off the screen.

  “Motherfucker.”

  When I get my hands on them, I’m going to fucking kill them.

  2

  MERCEDES

  "Get off me!" I scream, thrusting my palms against the man as he tries to maneuver me into the back of a van.

  "Mercedes," he hisses under his breath. "You can stop with the dramatics now. I think you've been convincing enough."

  Something about his voice makes me pause, but before the full weight of understanding settles over me, he hauls me into the back of the van and slams the door shut.

  "Go!" he bellows at the driver.

  "Georgie?" His name leaves my mouth on a broken whisper.

  "Yes, Jesus." He rips off his mask and tosses it onto the floor as the van lurches forward. "I think your Oscar-worthy performance back there will leave permanent scars on my arm.

  He pulls up his sleeve to examine the damage while I try to make this situation make sense. My eyes move to the driver. She's wearing a hooded cloak and big black sunglasses, but I'd recognize those red nails anywhere.

  "What the hell is going on?" I demand. "Why are you and Madame Dubois kidnapping me?"

  Georgie blinks, his gaze moving over my face before he sucks in a sharp breath. "Did you not read your text messages?"

  Text messages? I glance down at my dress, realizing I don’t even have my phone.

  Georgie mutters a curse and produces the burner phone from his pocket. He must have grabbed it in the scuffle. When he pulls up the screen and checks for himself, his brows draw together, and then his gaze snaps to mine.

  "Jesus, babe, you really didn't know? Oh my god." He pulls me in for a hug, and I release a long breath.

  "What is going on?" I ask.

  "Solana texted you," he explains. "We have a plan to help you hide. God, sweetheart, you must have been so terrified. I thought you knew, and you were just laying it on thick."

  I half laugh, half cry before I pull back to look at him and shake my head. "I didn't know. I was just focusing on getting to the condo, and the next thing I know, you’re abducting me."

  He nods in understanding and then slowly eases me onto a bench seat, giving my hand a squeeze before he releases it and sits beside me. It's at about this point it occurs to me I still have no idea where we're going or what's happening.

  "You didn't need to do this," I tell him. "I have cash at my place. I was just going to grab it, and—"

  "No, you don't," Georgie interrupts solemnly. "He took it."

  It's impossible to miss the disapproval in his tone, and I don't have to ask who he's referring to. Of course, it could only be Judge. He didn't want me to have any means of leaving.

  I swallow and dip my head as that news settles over me. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that, but my gut tells me this isn't good.

  "Oh, God." I bring my trembling fingers to my forehead, pressing them against the rising tension. "What am I going to do? They're never going to let me go."

  "It's okay." Georgie rubs my back. "We have a safe space for you. We'll keep you there until we can figure something out."

  I smile through my tears because he sounds so determined. But Georgie doesn't yet understand there's no such thing as a safe place for me. He knows about The Society now, but he can’t possibly comprehend their power. The full depth of their reach is suffocating, yet this is the only option I have because Santi and Judge have stripped me of any others.

  "Thank you," I tell Georgie, and I mean it. "This will just be temporary. I'm not going to burden you guys forever."

  "Honey, you are not a burden," he assures me. "Never."

  When I don't respond, he stops rubbing my back and gently turns m
y chin to face him.

  "Say it with me," he insists. "You are not a burden."

  I don't want to because it feels like a big fat lie, but I know Georgie, and he won't drop this until I give in, so I say it.

  "Good girl." He grins, rather pleased with himself for my capitulation. "This is what friends are for. We ride or die, baby."

  "I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you." I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. "Because I’m pretty sure none of my Society friends would ever stage a kidnapping to help me."

  "Mm-hmm, that's called next level, sweetheart. Don't you forget it."

  I laugh despite being so exhausted and emotional I can't think straight. And then the van pulls to a stop, and Madame Dubois turns off the ignition.

  "How'd you get her to help with this wacky plan?" I ask.

  "Are you kidding?" Georgie snickers. "She's the one who showed up with the mask and a van this morning. There was no asking."

  Again, I laugh, and I feel better just knowing Georgie is here with me, even for a little bit. He helps me up and opens the rear door, and when we step outside, we both freeze.

  "Holy shit." I stare at the home we’re parked in front of, wide-eyed. "What is this place?"

  Georgie seems equally awestruck by the elegant villa with Greek-style columns, a beautiful courtyard, and gardens that must cost a fortune to maintain. Madame Dubois, on the other hand, is as casual as ever as she saunters up to the door, snapping her fingers at us to follow along.