His Majesty (Rough Royals) Read online

  His Majesty

  By

  Sara Fields

  Copyright © 2020 by Stormy Night Publications and Sara Fields

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Fields, Sara

  His Majesty

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by iStock/PeopleImages, iStock/Stephanie Zieber, iStock/draganab, and iStock/Dmytro Lukash

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  More Stormy Night Books by Sara Fields

  Sara Fields Links

  Prologue

  Matteo Giovanni Santaro

  “I expect an answer. How are you going to get my money back?”

  The entire round table stared at me in silence, each face trembling in fear or anger or whatever else they thought they were supposed to feel in response to my own fury.

  “What are you going to do about it?” I pressed.

  It didn’t matter. They were going to give me answers. Every last one of them.

  “You see, Mr. Santaro,” the head of the bank began. I cut him off before he could even get started. He’d already made his first mistake.

  “You will refer to me by my rightful title, Mr. Diego,” I warned him, and he stilled. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his nerves. He was trying to be brave for the sake of his company, but that didn’t matter right now.

  “Your portfolio, Your Majesty, you see it was a risky one. If it had been more diversified, perhaps we could have recovered much of your funds, but the world is entering the beginnings of a recession. Investing isn’t a science, but a gamble sometimes. In this case, it was a loss and there’s nothing we can do,” the manager tried to explain.

  I cleared my throat.

  “I don’t care what the reasoning is. Your firm advised me to make these investments and you will take responsibility for a loss of this magnitude. If you don’t, I will find someone else who will,” I warned.

  “There’s simply nothing we can do for you, Your Majesty,” Diego continued, giving me his very best calming manager face. That wouldn’t work on me though.

  I stood up from my chair. Angelo moved backwards, allowing me space to rise to my feet. He held a folder behind his back, but I didn’t need that. Not yet.

  “It’s been a long time since I met with all of you in person, so perhaps you’ve forgotten how things work here. My family’s money founded this company and still to this day, accounts for well over fifty percent of your total holdings. I have the power to take this company and destroy it, simply by taking my accounts and bringing them elsewhere,” I began.

  “Mr. Santaro, please,” Mr. Diego interrupted.

  I took a deep breath and sighed, raising my hand and indicating for my men to give them the warning they so desperately needed.

  A gunshot rang out, loud as it echoed off the walls all around us.

  The bank manager screeched at the sound. The bullet grazed against his ear enough to leave a scratch and then lodged in the table in front of him. It wasn’t a killing blow by any means, but it was enough to send a message.

  “I’ve already reminded you how you shall refer to me. Make that mistake again and the bullet will be right between your eyes,” I warned.

  The angry faces turned fearful. Many of them I didn’t recognize, meaning that they were probably unfamiliar with the way I worked.

  I held out my hand and Angelo passed me a folder. I took it, stood over the table, and opened it.

  “I could replace every single one of you with the contents of this file. Inside it is the ruin of every person sitting at this table. Mr. Diego, yours is especially compelling. An affair that has resulted in a child that your wife knows nothing about. Let’s not forget about the embezzlement over the years either. Mrs. Smith, for you, tax fraud and a sordid affair of your own. And Mr. Santino, that’s quite the latex outfit, isn’t it?” I started.

  The table was silent. No one said a word. They were terrified of me now.

  Good. They were supposed to be.

  “Now imagine if these pictures were to be sent to the press. Images of your deviant affairs and evidence of all of your crimes. Your company would drown in scandal. Every single one of you would lose your jobs and be blacklisted in the community for the rest of your measly lives. The value of your corporation would plummet, and I would purchase you for pennies on the dollar. I would replace every single one of you with people of my own, who wouldn’t hesitate to obey.”

  “You can’t do this,” Diego challenged. He moved to stand up. Angelo handed me the gun.

  I moved quickly, pushing down hard on his shoulder and forcing him back down in his seat.

  “You have no idea what I can and can’t do, Mr. Diego,” I replied, pressing the barrel of the gun against the side of his head.

  He didn’t say a word. He kept silent, which pleased me.

  “I am a king. The rules of your world don’t apply to me and you would do well to remember that. I could pull the trigger right now and end your life and no one would come after me. You would disappear from all record. People would forget your name. You would cease to exist because my people would erase you. Do you want that?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” he answered, his voice shaking with fear. He was getting the message now.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to find a solution to the loss of my funds and you’re going to implement it quickly. You’re going to get me my money. Aren’t you, Mr. Diego?” I demanded.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” he trembled.

  I pulled the gun away from his head and he took in a shaky breath.

  “If you aren’t able to produce results, Mr. Diego, I’m going to come back for you. I won’t show you mercy next time. Am I clear?” I asked, and he stiffened.

  “I understand completely, Your Majesty,” he whispered. I watched as his hands shook.

  “I’m glad to hear that we’ve come to an understanding. Now to the rest of you, start looking for solutions immediately. If my money isn’t returned to my accounts within one week, I’m going to return, and the result of that conversation is going to end very differently than it did today for all of you. Do you all understand me?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the round table responded in unison.

  My men and I stood for a long moment and I met the eyes of every person sitting at that table. I made a note of every face, how each of them was quivering with the power of their fear.

  I liked that.

  It meant I was doing my job.

  I was king.

  It was time they remembered what that meant.

  Chapter One

  Isabella De Luca

  I leaned against the bar and swirled my glass around, listening as the ice cubes clinked against the edges. There was no getting around it. I was bored. And disappointed. And undeniably frustrated with the events that had unfolded over the past few hour
s. I had been looking forward to going out with my girls tonight, but all of them cancelled. Every last one.

  I sighed.

  They’d given me excuses. Sophie had feigned sickness, but she probably just buried herself in a book instead. Elena had said she needed to study, but I knew finals weren’t until next week, so it was the lamest cop-out ever. Ariana had ghosted me, and I was pretty sure she was just meeting up with some guy on Tinder instead of coming out dancing with me. Some fucking friends they were.

  It was the last night we would all be together since the term was ending and finals were so soon. One last chance to dance the night away before our time as graduate students came to an end and I had to return to America, and they’d ruined it. They’d ruined everything.

  I’d been pissed, but I’d gotten dressed up anyway because I’d bought the cutest little black number in downtown Rome earlier today and I had wanted to wear it. The music was pounding loud all around me, but I’d found a sheltered corner of the bar so when I ordered a sangria I could hear the bartender quite clearly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man in a suit glance in my direction. I didn’t even have to look to know that he was walking toward me. He leaned against the bar next to me, his own drink glass empty. He tilted the glass at the bartender and the man just nodded in acknowledgement, before climbing a small ladder and retrieving what I assumed was the most expensive bottle of whiskey in this place.

  This man was well off. That was promising. Maybe this night didn’t have to suck after all. A girl could enjoy a couple of free drinks.

  “A pretty girl like you should be drinking a glass of expensive champagne and not the well sangria they serve in this joint. Let me buy you a drink,” he said next to me, leaning his body toward mine.

  I could drink some free champagne.

  I turned my head toward him, assessing him rather brazenly. His suit was impeccably pressed. I didn’t know much about designers for men or anything like that, but if I had to guess, he was wearing something that cost him at least several thousand dollars or even more than that. His cufflinks were brilliantly red glittering gemstones. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would wear cubic zirconium, so if I was a gambling woman, I’d bet those were real rubies. And they were big. At least five carats in size. Not big enough to be ostentatious, but large enough to make a statement.

  He was Italian, likely from somewhere local. His hair was a dark mahogany and well groomed. His chin was lined with thick but well-trimmed facial hair. To be honest, he kind of reminded me of a movie star, although maybe more subdued. He had a quiet kind of power that made me curious.

  Most of all, though, his eyes promised more, a way to make this lame ass night more interesting. Least of all, I’d get a few drinks out of it or maybe even dinner. Best case scenario, maybe tonight would end with me having a few orgasms in his bed. It had been a long time since anyone wined and dined me, so what was the harm in having a little fun?

  I already had my plane ticket booked to head back home to New York. My time in Rome as an exchange student was coming to an end and I planned to move in with my best friend from back home. So, whatever happened tonight would be a one-time thing.

  It could be fun.

  Why the fuck not?

  “Sure. I’d love a glass,” I smiled warmly, and he grinned, his own eyes sparkling in triumph.

  He waved over the bartender and quietly ordered a glass of something called Gout de Diamants for me. Immediately, the bartender slid open a fridge, reached in and pulled out the most expensive bottle of champagne I’d probably ever have the opportunity to see. The logo was a beautiful white gold and at the center of it was what looked like a flawless white diamond. He popped it open and the bar cheered all around us. I laughed and smiled, feeling my tension fall away.

  I didn’t need my girls to have a good night. I’d make my own fun instead.

  A very full glass of Cristal slid in front of me and I wound my fingers around it like it was something that I did all the time. I didn’t think about the fact that this single bottle cost probably cost more than I even made in a year. I pretended this was normal.

  I took a sip and felt the bubbles pop against my tongue.

  Delicious.

  “My name is Vincenzo Santaro,” he began, looking back at me expectantly.

  “Isabella De Luca,” I answered, smiling back in his direction. “Thank you for the drink.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he replied, if a bit cockily. I chose to ignore it. He was obviously a man who was used to getting his way when he flashed a little bit of money and so far, he’d been nothing but nice to me. I took another sip of my drink and savored the feeling of his money bursting across my tongue.

  “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all by herself on a Friday night in Rome, especially in a dress like that,” he stated, taking a moment to drag his eyes up and down my body. He was enjoying the sight and I would be lying if I said I didn’t like him looking at me like that. Sometimes a girl just wants to be admired and feel wanted and right now he was doing all the right things and saying all the words I wanted to hear.

  “All my girls cancelled on the plans we made together, so here I am,” I explained evasively.

  “Well, considering that I have a chance to share a few drinks with you now, Isabella, I can’t say that I’m sorry they cancelled on you. I’d say that it was lucky for me,” he replied with a wink.

  “Perhaps,” I teased with a grin.

  He snorted with amusement. He sipped his drink slowly and looked back at me.

  “Would you like to dance with me, Isabella? It would be a shame if you didn’t get a chance to tonight, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would,” I grinned. I hadn’t yet made it on the dance floor and hadn’t been sure if I was even going to. Dancing as a lone female in a club was always risky because it left you open to all the creepy lurkers circling around looking for the easiest mark.

  He offered me his hand and I took it. He led me out onto the dance floor with confidence. It wasn’t lost on me how people moved out of the way for him, that he carried with him an air of power and expectation that others simply responded to.

  When he had me where he wanted me, he pulled me into his embrace, my hips flush with his. I could feel he was hard for me and I had to admit, I liked it.

  I decided to be the aggressor. I ground my hips against him first and he growled into my ear. I rolled my pelvis back and forth and his grip around my waist grew tighter and more possessive. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted and right now, I wanted to give it to him.

  What was the harm in it? A few good drinks and a fun night?

  I danced more suggestively, pressing my body against his and swaying my hips back and forth, acting the part of the dirty little girl. I gave it my all because I wanted to.

  I took another sip of my drink. He took another. And another. He emptied his drink first and took my hand, leading me back to the bar. He topped off my glass of champagne even though I hadn’t drunk all that much yet. The bartender refilled his drink, only this time it appeared to be a double. He wasted little time in downing about half that too.

  He pulled me close to him and nuzzled my neck. Gently, he traced his lips along my throat, and I sighed as pleasurable sensations raced across my skin. It had been such a long time since I had been kissed and I could feel myself melting a bit more into his arms at the promise of it.

  “Why don’t you finish your drink and I will take you someplace nicer,” he offered.

  I bit my lip.

  Did I want to?

  I did.

  “I’d like that,” I whispered, turning into his cheek. He grasped my chin and kissed me softly. He was gentle and unassuming and that made me comfortable, at first. After that, his kiss deepened into something a bit more aggressive and it turned me on.

  I sipped at my drink. I couldn’t gulp it down, but I wanted to.

  That didn’t stop Vincenzo from downing h
is in one shot.

  * * *

  A little while later, I’d been led out of the club through a concealed exit that probably only the rich and famous were given the privilege of using. I was ushered into an expensive-looking Rolls Royce. Vincenzo sat in the backseat with me while a driver pulled away from the curb.

  Vincenzo dialed a number and pressed his phone to his ear.

  “Have a chilled bottle of 2013 Gout de Diamants waiting on the bar, along with a fresh bottle of Matheson 1942. Thanks,” he murmured. I heard someone answer on the other line, but I couldn’t quite make out what they said. It didn’t matter though because he curled his arm around me and pulled me to him, distracting me from the promise of more delicious champagne whenever we reached wherever we were going.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, hoping that he might be taking me to his place or a quieter bar or even a nice hotel.

  “To my penthouse. I want to show you what Rome looks like from way up high. It’s quite a sight at night,” he answered, grinning. He’d somehow garnered another drink and I hadn’t seen how. It didn’t really matter though. I imagined when you had money like he had, the rules didn’t really apply to him.

  The Rolls Royce sped down the dark streets, weaving in and out of traffic as if it owned the road. Maybe Vincenzo had enough money that he did.

  I looked out the window, watching as the night lights drifted by and as people walked down the streets to their favorite local bars or restaurants, dressed to the nines and ready for a night of fun. I wondered what my girlfriends were doing and what they’d say if they knew where I was and who I was with.

  I chewed my lip.

  Maybe I should be playing harder to get.

  His fingers traced the line of my arm, drifting up to caress my neck. He took my chin and pulled me into another kiss. I could taste the whiskey on his breath and the residual burn was even more arousing than I anticipated.

  His fingers slipped up my leg and I carefully took them into my own, not wanting to start anything here in the car. He pulled back and looked at me, trying to gauge where my mind was. I decided to let him in, at least a little bit.