Broken Wings: Dark Legacy book 1 Read online

  The elegant, stuck up bitch of a woman who had donated her DNA to my creation just looked at me like I was a simpleton.

  “Come on, we’re late.” She totally ignored my response, checking her expensive wrist watch and turning on one of those sharp heels to exit the room. The arrogant woman didn’t even glance behind her to check I was following, just assumed I would be.

  Anger bubbled up in me, choking out the fear of never seeing my best friend again. If this was how she wanted to play it, I was going to do everything in my power to piss her right the fuck off. I only had two months until I was eighteen, and then there was nothing she could do to keep me in her custody. It was going to be a very long two months for her.

  It was too painful to think about the fact that my parents just died, so I’d embrace that fury. Mrs. Deboise had no idea who she was messing with.

  2

  The Deboise house was exactly what I’d thought it would be. As Catherine’s chauffeur-driven Bentley paused outside the wrought iron gates, I allowed myself a quick moment of awe.

  It wasn’t a house. Not even close. It was a sprawling mansion like something out of one of those fantastic Christmas rom-coms. The ones with a girl who meets a prince in a foreign, made up country and they fall madly in love… what a shame happy endings weren’t real, and pretty mansions were just bricks and mortar.

  “This is where you live?” I muttered, unable to bite my tongue any longer. We’d been silent the entire helicopter flight and car ride, and I was starting to get twitchy.

  Catherine turned her condescending glare on me. “This is where we live. You’re a Deboise now, Riley. Start getting used to it.” She grimaced, her mouth twisting like she’d licked a lemon. “That name is atrocious and not at all suitable for my daughter. We’ll have to change it before the school term starts.”

  I spluttered in shock and choked on a stray droplet of saliva.

  Smooth, Riles. Real smooth.

  “Excuse me?” I demanded when my coughing subsided. “I could have sworn you just said you wanted to change my name.”

  My birth mother turned her attention back to her phone that she’d been tapping away at for the whole journey. “That’s exactly what I said, child. Perhaps you suffered a worse head injury than the doctors realized.”

  I clenched my teeth together. Hard. My temper had always been a bit short, but no amount of deep breathing and counting to ten was going to save me now.

  “You can’t just change my name because it doesn’t suit you,” I declared, a growl of fury underscoring my words. “That’s not how it works. It’s my fucking name, you egomaniac.”

  This finally seemed to capture her attention entirely, and her icy glare snapped back to me. “I’m going to let that slide, just this once, because you don’t know what you’re saying. But hear this, child. I’m Catherine Deboise. I can do anything I please, and if I want to change your name, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Her response left me gobsmacked, at a total loss for words. I had no idea people like this even existed. “As for that appalling, vulgar language, I can only imagine it’s a result of your poor upbringing. Deboise ladies don’t swear, so don’t ever do it again.”

  Her swipe at my parents—my dead parents—had me seeing red.

  Before I could even process what I was doing, I spat in her face. “Fuck you, Catherine.”

  She sat there a moment, just staring at me in shock as my saliva ran down her cheek. For a millisecond, I regretted my actions. Spitting was revolting, and not something I’d ever done before, but Catherine Deboise brought out the worst in me.

  My moment of regret was gone as quick as it came thanks to the crack of Catherine’s hand across my face. She’d used the back of it, her huge diamond rings cutting my cheek in the process.

  “The next time you treat me with disrespect, I’ll have you beaten.” She delivered the threat in such a cold, uncaring way that I really questioned if maybe I’d died in the crash after all. Surely this was Hell.

  I touched my fingers to my cheek, dabbing at the blood trickling from the fresh wound and looking at them in stunned disbelief. She’d just hit me!

  Catherine pushed open her door and stepped out, disappearing into the mansion without another word and leaving me to find my own way. After a few minutes of struggling I finally managed to clamber out of the car, only to find the fucking driver just standing there.

  “Thanks for the help, asshole,” I growled at him in anger. Not because I expected servants to wait on me hand and foot, but because I was in a goddamn cast and blood still dripped down my face. It was only common courtesy, wasn’t it?

  The driver raised his brows, giving me an aloof look. “Word of advice, miss. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. You do not want to get on the Mistress’s bad side.”

  I glared at him, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort to argue. All he’d done was confirm what I already suspected… Catherine Deboise was a fucking psychopath.

  * * *

  “This is your room,” she said, acting like the confrontation in the car hadn’t even happened. “I’m heading out right after this for a business meeting. You will stay in here until I get back, and then we will go over the rules.”

  I didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. I’d already decided that whatever she told me to do, I was going to do the opposite. I might not have much power against someone with Deboise banking money, but I’d take what I could. She’d made a big mistake thinking she could just pick me up and drop me back in her life again, and now that I had met her it was making even less sense that she had.

  She turned away from the door, and I had to ask: “Why?”

  She didn’t pretend not to understand. “Because I have need of you now. I didn’t when you were born.”

  Then she strode off, the heels clicking on the shiny wood floor.

  I blinked after her, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. Had need of me? Need for what?

  Panic and pain swirled inside of me again, and I had to steady myself against the door frame. From the outside it no doubt looked like I’d hit the jackpot: mega-rich birth parents bringing me back into their lives. Their sort of money was beyond anything I’d ever known. From my first step onto the marble floors of the Deboise mansion, I knew I was so far out of my element it wasn’t funny. I grew up in a loving, but very poor, home. We had never had a single extra, but we got by. That was how I’d met Dante. He’d been my neighbor growing up, until he graduated to his own pretty impressive condo. I’d never asked him how he afforded it, and he never dragged me into whatever he was low-key running for the local gangs.

  Yeah, I’d lied to Catherine earlier. I knew my friend wasn’t completely innocent, but from our neighborhood, very few were. I didn’t care. Loyalty meant a lot to me, and I would have Dante’s back for the rest of my life.

  My room held no interest to me. Despite the fact it was huge, more like a mini-suite than a bedroom, I mostly hated everything about it. The bed was white, the walls were white, the rug was black, and there was a fireplace. I also had a black leather couch and what looked like an impressive black and white bathroom through an open door across the room.

  Everything was clean, sterile, and ultra-modern. It all just screamed of that cold bitch. I fought against the urge to go across and mess the perfectly fitted blankets on the bed. Because this place was giving me the creeps.

  I’d moved further inside when a knock sounded from behind, and I turned to find yet another man standing there. It was not the driver, though, this man was in his late-fifties, with a thick head of gray hair.

  “Good evening, Miss Deboise,” he said politely. “I’m Stewart, and I’m head of staff here at Deboise Estate. If you require anything, simply ring that little buzzer.” He pointed toward a black and gold button near the side of the bed. “And someone will be straight by.”

  I nodded, and he turned to leave when I called out, “Where is all of my stuff? The lady at child services said they
packed up the things from my home.” I near choked on that word, because the pain at knowing I’d never go back to that crappy little house was too much for me to handle. I’d take it over this cold mansion any day.

  Stewart slowly turned, his face expressionless, although it did seem there was a slight softening of the lines around his eyes when he replied, “Mistress informed me that you had everything you needed in your room. We don’t have any other belongings for you.”

  I stumbled back, and he reached out as if to grab me, but I waved him away before he could. “She didn’t bring any of my things?” I seethed. That fucking bitch.

  As if it was poor Stewart’s fault, I glared at him and he just gave me a polite nod before backing up and closing my door as he left. Yeah, I’d bet that I wasn’t scary when he was used to working for the bitch of Upstate New York.

  Fury burned and swirled in my gut, and since I generally wasn’t someone that held onto anger, I knew I needed to do something to blow off steam. My life had been ripped apart in the last ten days, I’d lost everything, and now … this was a bad situation. I knew it. I could feel it deep down. It was all too much for me to process—I needed a car. I needed to race and forget everything in my current shitty life. I’d been given no car privileges though.

  In fact, I didn’t have a phone or any way of actually reaching the outside world. I was a veritable prisoner right now…

  Except…

  I didn’t have to be. What was stopping me from sneaking out of this house and taking my chances in the big wide world? I mean, Dante would help me, I was sure of it. He was probably going out of his mind with worry right now knowing that I’d just disappeared from the hospital never to be seen again.

  A plan was already forming, but I knew it would be safest at dark. The expensive looking gold clock on the wall told me it was almost 4:00 p.m., which meant I had at least another hour before it was dark enough.

  With nothing else to do, I explored my very temporary room. The bathroom was exactly as I thought, sleek and expensive, with the most tempting looking deep tub. Not quite tempting enough to put up with Mrs. Debitch though. A large room joined the main bedroom, and it was filled with clothes and shoes and makeup and … it was basically a mini-mall with every conceivable item a rich young chick would need. My mouth watered when I realized that there was a wall of shoes, and more than one pair of black heels with the red soles. I reached out and lifted one up, finding some swirly signature on it starting with an L. I had no idea what this brand was, but I was starting to see I had at least one thing in common with my birth mother. We were hooked on shiny black heels.

  With reluctance, I placed it back on the shelf. I wouldn’t be taking anything from here with me.

  The time ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace, but I had one shot at this. If she caught me, I would be under twenty-four hour security, I had no doubt. She wouldn’t have gone to all of this trouble to get me back, unless she really did “have need of me.”

  When it finally got dark enough, I eased open the bedroom door and snuck a quick look to make sure no one was around. Normally I would have gone out the window, but with a broken arm, I couldn’t climb. My heart beat rapidly as I crept along the hall and down the stairs. There was a huge double staircase, which led to the impressive entrance to this house. Crystal chandeliers twinkled above, cascading lights across the marble.

  I didn’t see anyone around, and was relieved when I managed to get outside and into the darkness without incident. From what I remembered, the front drive was long, which meant I was not safe until I was off Deboise land. Pausing, I realized that anyone this rich would have security. They were probably patrolling the perimeter right now, and I wondered if they shot trespassers.

  I almost hesitated then, but I’d come this far, so I stopped thinking and started running.

  Holding my broken arm against me, my legs pounded the pavement, and I veered off so I was away from the lights lining the main drive. The grass was thick and soft, and my pace picked up. My body still hurt. My head ached on and off, as it had done since I woke up, and no doubt this sort of sprinting was not recommended by my doctor when recovering from a car accident, but I didn’t care.

  I needed out.

  The Deboise estate was fucking huge, of course, but I still managed to make it to the imposing fences in under ten minutes. Speed had always been my thing; running and cars anyway … not so much the drug. The fence was my next obstacle, because it was three times my height, and had thick bars lining it. There was a symbol etched in the middle of each bar, on a round plaque. Something that looked like an M and a D, possibly, but it was hard to tell in this low light. I was guessing the D was for Deboise, and the M … mansion. Who knew what pretentious bullshit she was representing here?

  Moving along the fence line, I stayed behind the hedges which lined it. I was close to the gates we’d entered through, and I wondered if they were on a sensor. There would have to be a code, I was sure of it. While I was trying to figure out what to do, a set of headlights turned into the fence, and I dropped to the ground, holding my breath. Fuck fuck fuck. The bitch was back.

  3

  The car paused for a brief moment at the gates while they silently slid open. Once my panic faded, I realized that this was my best chance of getting out of here. I pulled myself up while still staying out of sight. I’d have to time it perfectly, but I knew I could do it. I had to do it.

  The thrum of an expensive car echoed past me as she accelerated, and I waited until the gates were just starting to close again before I pushed off hard from the ground and pumped my legs. My cast hit the side of the gate when I dived through, and I bit back the cry, trying my best to shake off the pain. It was worth it though, because I was on the outside, exactly where I wanted to be. Well, sort of. I remembered another set of gates at the start of this section of exclusive estates, but I was sure I’d manage to get past them too.

  The second set had guards on them, but they were definitely more interested in who was coming in, rather than who was going out. I snuck through at the same time a black Bugatti Veyron rumbled out. Holy fuck.

  My legs didn’t want to move, I just wanted to stare at the perfection of that fine ass piece of machinery. But there was no time for me to drool over my unicorn car. I had to get the hell out of Dodge.

  As soon as I was a short distance from the guards, I started to relax. Right up until another set of headlights flared to life right before me. My muscles tensed, prepared to run, when a figure stepped out from the driver’s side and headed toward me. With the lights blinding me, it took me a few minutes to figure out who it was, and then I was running. Right into his arms.

  “Dante!” I whisper-yelled. When his arms wrapped around me, I sank into the warmth and comfort. “How the hell did you find me?” I asked, pulling back from him.

  His lips tilted up slightly, as he ran his gaze across me. That smile disappeared the moment he saw the cut on my cheek.

  The hold he had on me tightened. “What the fuck happened to you?” he seethed, almost shaking me.

  I jerked myself out of his hold. “My birth mom is a fucking psycho, that’s what happened.”

  He didn’t seem surprised to hear me say “birth mom,” and I wondered how much persuasion it took for CPS to divulge my location. Dante could be very convincing when he wanted something.

  “Is she dangerous to you, Riles? Do you think she’ll actually hurt you?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “No way to know what that crazy chick would do, but I get the vibe that if I obey her rules, she’ll leave me alone.”

  His anger deepened; ignoring this, I pushed past him and hurried across to the car, my hand already reaching out to touch her sleek lines. It was my baby, a dark blue Aston Martin V12 Vantage S. Okay, technically it was Dante’s baby, but he let me race her whenever I wanted.

  “Why were you sneaking out, Riles?” he asked, watching me closely as I loved up on the car.

  Pulling m
y hand back, I let out a low breath, facing him. “I don’t know what’s going on, but apparently my birth parents want me back. Catherine Deboise is completely insane, though. I’m not even kidding. She threw away all of my stuff. She wants me to change my name. She’s going to try and mold me into a Stepford child.”

  He let out a low chuckle, and I wanted to punch him. “It’s not fucking funny, dude. This is serious. I can’t stay there.”

  His eyes flicked to the cut on my cheek again, and then his jaw was tense, all signs of his laughter gone. “I agree, but you can’t just run from people like this, Riley. She has more power than you can fathom, and it’ll be nothing for her to hunt you down. Especially when you’re only seventeen.”

  Two fucking months.

  “What exactly are you saying, Dante?”

  I was going to make the bastard spell it out for me. He reached forward and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m saying, that you need to be smarter than this. I have connections, but not even I can go up against the Deboise family.”

  “I have to go back,” I said resigned.

  “Just for now,” he promised. “But ... follow her rules, Riles. Don’t let her hurt you again.”

  Part of me was pissed he didn’t fight harder for me to run, but I could tell that he knew more about this than me and that he believed running wouldn’t work. Or he was too scared to risk it. Dante was tough, don’t get me wrong, but I’d seen him act like a bitch on more than one occasion when he got in over his head. Granted, that was something which hadn’t happened in the last few years, so maybe the Deboise threat was legit.

  “Can I drive her before I go back?” I all but begged, knowing this might have been my only chance to blow off steam.