Table Of ContentREIGN ANTHOLOGY
ADDISON JANE NINA LEVINE PENNY DEE K E OSBORN
JA LOW KAT T MASEN BEC MCMASTER KALLY ASH
EVIE MITCHELL LEESA BOW LIZ LOVELOCK EMMA JAMES
CORINNE MAZILLE
CONTENTS
Illusive - The Exiled Eight MC
Addison Jane
Little Bird
Kally Ash
Surrendered Hearts
Nina Levine
King of the Boroughs
Penny Dee
The Unwanted Crown
K E Osborn
Three’s A Crown
JA Low
The Trouble With Love
Kat T. Masen
Prince of Ruin
Bec McMaster
The Marriage Claim
Evie Mitchell
Stardust
Leesa Bow
Queen of the V
Liz Lovelock
King’s Gambit
Emma James
Runaway Princess
Corinne Mazille
ILLUSIVE - THE EXILED EIGHT
MC
ADDISON JANE
PROLOGUE
ZOEY/ANGIE
“A
sshole,” I cursed, wiping at the foggy mirror and leaning
in close to get a good look at the fresh bruise
highlighting my cheekbone. “Dammit.” I’d have to try and
hide the mark before Lisa got a glimpse of it. She didn’t take lightly to
the men putting their hands on us because then she knew we didn’t
make them happy. And unhappy customers aren’t good for business.
Making quick work of adding another layer of foundation to my
face, I swiped extra blush strategically across my cheeks to give me
what Lisa liked to call that innocent glow. The heat of the shower
washed away some of the shame and disgust that tainted my skin,
but it was never going to wash away that crawling sensation that had
buried itself deep inside.
A feeling I was fairly sure was permanent.
The party was still pumping by the time I got back downstairs. I
wasted no time, quickly snatching a glass of champagne off a tray as
a waiter passed by.
Liquid courage.
Something to numb my choices.
Something to wipe my memories.
The young server didn’t even look twice. He’d been paid not to,
even though I was acutely aware of the fact I didn’t look anywhere
close to being twenty-one.
I wouldn’t be here if I did.
That wasn’t what these men were looking for.
Eyes skimmed my body as I passed by. I swore I could feel them
reaching for me, their hands tearing at my clothes, the feel of their
breath against my neck. Goddammit. My self-control managed to
curb the disgusted shudder I could feel tickling at the base of my
spine, but not the nausea that had already begun to stir inside my
stomach.
“Jesus,” I cursed, lifting the alcohol to my lips, desperate for
some kind of escape.
“No drinking, you know the rules.”
I stilled, my face sinking as the glass was plucked from my grasp
before I could even take a single mouthful. Lisa’s taloned fingers
wrapped around the tall flute, her long nails clinking against the
glass.
“You’re underage,” she scolded, her nose flaring.
“Right, underage,” I repeated, spitting out a sharp laugh. “You’re
kidding me, right?”
“I am not,” she growled and pressed the glass to her lips, taking a
dainty sip just at the edge. Everything she did had to be elegant,
high class. From the way she drank to her sleek ink-black hair that
was cut into a sharp, sophisticated bob. Her eyes scanned the room
constantly, aware of everything that was going on, mentally matching
men with the generous array of teenage girls scattered throughout
the room. Her eyes finally fell back to me, disappointment clearly
evident. “You think stumbling around with a glass of alcohol in your
hand is going to make these men want to get anywhere near you?”
“All the more reason,” I quipped, my lip curling.
“Angie…”
“Too young to drink, but just the right age to be fucked by
perverts. Got ya.” The low murmur was meant to be under my
breath, but like always, I underestimated Lisa Eyler and her ability to
see, hear, and smell defiance.
And also, her innate ability to tear it from you.
Her perfectly crafted persona didn’t falter for a second. The
typical warm, welcoming smile plastered across her face as she
hooked her arm through mine and directed me through the crowd.
Throngs of A-list celebrities, CEOs, and court judges mixed and
mingled like any high-profile event you would expect in the Upper
East Side of Manhattan.
It was everything you’d expect.
Million-dollar homes, wealthy residents, expensive parties.
Oh, and teenage girls being paraded in front of rich, untouchable
men and sold like fucking cattle.
Invitation only, of course.
Lisa’s nails pinched at my skin with enough pressure to make my
knees week, and a slight whimper escaped from my throat. “Lisa,” I
hissed, a painful crack in my voice that could have easily been
mistaken for pleading.
She didn’t respond, not until we reached the double doors at the
end of the hall. One hard shove, and I went flying through them,
stumbling, fighting to catch myself but failing. My hip hit the floor first,
the carpet burning at my palms as I reached out to try and brace
myself.
“Get up.”
I fought the aches and pains resonating through my body, trying
to ignore them for just a second while I found my feet. I may have
spent the past couple of years being beaten, broken, and used, but I
hadn’t been defeated.
Not fucking yet.
“Go to hell,” I snapped through clenched teeth, blood dripping
down my arm from where her nails had pierced my skin. I stood tall,
meeting the hellfire gaze of the woman I’d once seen as a person I
thought I could aspire to.
This kick-ass bitch, holding her own in a world full of men.
The kind that looked down on women, not seeing them as
equals.
Though what I hadn’t realized when I’d first met her was her hold
over these men wasn’t because they looked up to her, and it wasn’t
because they respected her or the millions of dollars she had worked
hard for.
No.
This world didn’t run on respect.
It was fueled by fear.
And Lisa Eyler had every single one of these men by the fucking
balls.
