The Throne of Hate: A mafia romance (The Romano's Book 2)
The Throne of Hate
The Romanos #2
Stella Andrews
Contents
Newsletter
Books by Stella Andrews in the order written
Chapter 1
Isabella
Chapter 2
Isabella
Chapter 3
Dante
Chapter 4
Isabella
Chapter 5
Dante
Chapter 6
Isabella
Chapter 7
Isabella
Chapter 8
Dante
Chapter 9
Isabella
Chapter 10
Dante
Chapter 11
Isabella
Chapter 12
Dante
Chapter 13
Isabella
Chapter 14
Dante
Chapter 15
Isabella
Chapter 16
Dante
Chapter 17
Isabella
Chapter 18
Dante
Chapter 19
Isabella
Chapter 20
Dante
Chapter 21
Isabella
Chapter 22
Dante
Chapter 23
Isabella
Chapter 24
Dante
Chapter 25
Isabella
Chapter 26
Dante
Chapter 27
Isabella
Chapter 28
Dante
Chapter 29
Isabella
Chapter 30
Dante
Chapter 31
Isabella
Chapter 32
Dante
Chapter 33
Isabella
Chapter 34
Dante
Chapter 35
Isabella
Chapter 36
Dante
Chapter 37
Isabella
Chapter 38
Dante
Chapter 39
Isabella
Chapter 40
Dante
Chapter 41
Isabella
Epilogue
The Throne of Fear
The Throne of Pain
Broken Beauty
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Books by Stella Andrews in the order written
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Copyrighted Material
Copyright © Stella Andrews 2020
Stella Andrews has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
18+ This book is for Adults only. If you are easily shocked and not a fan of sexual content then move away now.
18+
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Books by Stella Andrews in the order written
*Starred Books = Reaper Romance
The Highest Bidder (Logan & Samantha)
Rocked (Jax & Emily)
Daddy’s Girls (Ryder & Ashton) *
Twisted (Sam & Kitty) *
The Billion Dollar baby (Tyler & Sydney) *
Bodyguard (Jet & Lucy) *
Bad Decision (Max & Summer)
Flash (Flash & Jennifer) *
Country Girl (Tyson & Sunny) *
Breaking Beauty (Sebastian & Angel) *
Owning Beauty (Tobias & Anastasia)
Broken Beauty (Maverick & Sophia) *
The Throne of Pain (Lucian & Riley)
The Throne of Hate
The definition of hate is Dante Romano.
Hate never tasted so good.
Isabella
I thought I was finally free from a life filled with hatred and pain.
Tomorrow my life was going to start when I graduated from Eden Manners School for Childcare, and under the terms of my grandmother’s will I could collect my millions at the door.
There was no money at the door—just him.
Dante Romano.
He was not alone.
A little boy, his mirror image, his son.
I wonder what brave woman took this man on because this man is a god.
He is untouchable and as I stare, the little boy looks at me through those same soulless eyes and it breaks my heart.
He’s lost, they are lost, and even though I’ve just met them, it’s like a painting of an artist who lost control. It’s messy, violent, all over the place but so beautiful it takes my breath away—a masterpiece, father & son.
I was so close to my freedom, but my grandmother dealt a painful blow from the grave.
Work for one year after graduation before the money could be mine.
I never got a choice. He made me an offer I tried to refuse, work for him or die.
I’ve been bullied before, but they were nothing like him.
Dante Romano is the definition of hate and as it turned out, that was the least of my problems.
Chapter 1
Isabella
I can hear the sniggers as I walk through the hall. Taunting, hateful and cruel. They have followed me around for three long years—who am I kidding; they have followed me around my whole life because I dare to be different. I don’t conform and I don’t play their games and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Pulling my hated gray cardigan around me just a little tighter, I act as if their words don’t bother me—but they do. They always have because it’s lonely being different. Lonely being the last kid chosen in a roomful of your peers and lonely having no friends. Except one. I have a friend, sorry, had, until she was forced to move across state because her father changed his job.
Thinking of Sloane Adams, my best friend and only ever partner in crime, I vow to look her up just as soon as this fiasco is over.
And it will be over today because finally, after years of dreaming of this moment, Isabella Rose Grey is graduating from Eden Manners School of Childcare and I fucking cannot wait.
“Smella.”
I grit my teeth.
“Thank god we won’t have to smell the same air as that piece of filth after today, Madison.”
Two girls who have made my life hell for three years, barge past me, knocking my books to the floor, scattering them at my feet.
Giggling, Samantha says with pretend remorse, “Oh, I’m so sorry, let me help you with that.”
As I fall to my knees, she steps on the book nearest to me and grinds her heel into the front of it, leaving a large dent slap bang in the middle. “Ooh, look what you’ve done, Smella, Mrs Constantine will be so angry, she prides herself on keeping things pristine at all times.”
“Samantha Miller laughs and using her well-heeled shoe, kicks me in my side causing me to fall over and she sneers, “Look at her, crawling in the dust with the rest of the filth where she belongs. Thank god we won’t ever see her again after today.”
Her friend laughs. “I agree Samantha, the standards have obviously slipped letting scum like that into the school. Mind you, it’s not as if anyone would ever employ this pathetic excuse for a nanny. I mean, who wants scum like this dragging t
heir kids up. No, poor little smelly Ella will soon discover the world just doesn’t want the likes of her in it.”
A door slamming further down the hall causes the girls to move away, but not before Samantha stamps on my hand as she passes. The pain shoots through me and tears brim in my eyes as I do everything in my power not to give them a way out. I must hold it together for two more hours because I have no other choice. I’ve come so far and I won’t fall at the final hurdle.
“Isabella, get up off the floor at once!”
The grim tones of my principal, Mrs Hastings, reach me and cause me to scramble to my feet, grasping my books tightly to my chest and looking anywhere but at her.
“Stand up straight and look at me girl.”
I raise my eyes and blink against the derision in hers. If I thought anyone would be sympathetic to my bullying, I was mistaken because apparently the bullies of the past grew up to be teachers at this school and as the head of them, Mrs Hastings is the queen of bullies. She’s never liked me and wouldn’t care if I was stripped naked and rolled in eggs and flour. She would still blame me and has made every moment of my time here a bad memory.
“Isabella, your clumsiness is legendary. I have never met such an awkward, incompetent, lazy student in my life and graduation can’t come soon enough. Now, I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. Dust yourself down and go and change. The ceremony is due to begin in two hours’ time and you will not—I repeat, NOT, let this school down. Three more hours, Miss. Grey and you can return to the gutter where you are likely to fall. It’s just a shame that your grandmother wasted her money on sending you here in the first place. At least she’s dead and unable to see what a disappointment you turned out to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have guests to attend to.”
I try not to let her see how painful her words are. I try not to let emotion through because I have battled that for three tortuous years. I try not to let her words wound an already battered soul, and I try not to give a damn. But I do, I always have because it’s lonely being the only cuckoo in the nest. I don’t belong here and I never have and my time at this school has been a slow painful lesson in the way society treats those less fortunate than themselves. This society is one I can’t wait to run from because I have honored my grandmother’s last wish and in three hours’ time will graduate from this school as a fully-fledged childcare professional—a nanny.
However, I would rather pull out my own fingernails than actually use this qualification because now I have my freedom I can run and I can hide because I’m finally free and know just where I’m heading.
As I walk along the hated halls of my prison, I no longer feel the terror I felt when getting through the day was the only goal I had. Now I’m going to run through them to an exit where the open road and freedom beckons. I’ll hitch across state to find Sloane. We’ll laugh about this place and everyone in it and probably form a band like we’ve always dreamed of. I play the keyboards and sing, and Sloane loves the guitar. We just need to find a drummer and possibly a bass player, and then we’ll be free to tour and create songs that people will want to listen to. Not long now and my future beckons.
“Miss. Grey, may I have a word please?”
I am so tied up in my plans I don’t notice Miss. Taylor looking at me from her office door and I sigh inside. What now?
She frowns as I stare at her with frustration and says tightly, “Now please.”
Sighing, I head her way and wonder what the arrogant teacher wants. She’s been my form mistress since I arrived here and has never listened to any of my tales of bullying and pain. I hate Miss. Taylor.
Hopefully for the last time, I follow her into the study and she closes the door, gesturing for me to stand before the desk.
There are no seats in this office for the students as they stand cowering before her because it’s not a place you get comfortable in. No, Miss. Taylor likes her students afraid and belittled, and as she takes her seat, her razor-sharp stare strips me bare and leaves me feeling like a worthless piece of shit.
“Miss. Grey, as you know your stay here at this school ends in three hours’ time and I’m sure it’s something you are eager for. This has been a difficult time for you, largely because of your own inability to accept the other students and try to make friendships. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you are rude, belligerent and unable to make friends, so I feel under the circumstances it’s a good thing you’re leaving. However, your grandmother was a wise old lady who saw this school as a place where you would learn not just the lessons we taught but a life’s lesson. She paid your fees to try and set you on a path in life that would shape and mold you into a woman worth her investment. So, here’s her final gift, a parting shot at setting you on the right track.”
I stare at my hated teacher with so much loathing I’m surprised she doesn’t buckle under it but she just regards me coolly and says, “As you know, we invite potential employers to the graduation in the hope they will offer our students work. They have been carefully selected and represent the finest families in the land. Now, we don’t expect miracles in your case but a least try and make a good impression because your future depends on you securing a position with one of them.”
I hear the words, but I don’t understand them. Position, work for a family. What the hell is she talking about?
She stares at me with a hard gleam of what looks like triumph as she says gleefully, “Yes, your grandmother made it a condition of her will. You attend this school; you graduate and you work for one year before you get your inheritance. If you don’t, you get nothing, just the debt you will inherit where you will have to pay for the tuition yourself.”
“But she can’t, it’s over, I’ve done as she asked.”
I stare at her with surprise and dismay, and she shrugs and looks as if she’s enjoying this way too much. “Yes, I can see she was right to include this last condition. I’m guessing you thought you could leave this school and pick up access to her bank account at the door, no doubt intent on wasting it. You see, Isabella, we all recognized the deadbeat in you the moment you arrived. It’s been very difficult to mold you into something worth keeping and is a credit to your teachers and fellow students in trying. So, remember you have one last duty and that is to make a good impression on the people who hold the key to your inheritance. Don’t let us all down and finish the job. After that, I expect it won’t be long before you fritter away the fortune, but a least it won’t be through lack of trying on our part.”
As Miss. Taylor stares at me with her icy, disapproving gaze, I see pure evil dressed up in respectability. I see a woman that should never be teaching and a woman who is bitter and twisted and has probably never seen happiness in her life.
I nod and say politely, “Thank you, Miss. Taylor, I won’t let you down.”
She waves toward the door and sneers, “The sad thing is, Miss. Grey, you never do anything else. Now go and prepare for the ceremony and count your blessings that someone tried at least.”
As I walk from her office, the walls close in on me. It’s all been for nothing. Three years of hate, pain and tolerance have crumbled to dust under her vile words. The tears sting again, but I’m used to them now. They are ever present and if I thought today would be different, I was a fool.
One more year! I can’t even begin to get my head around that.
By the time I’ve made it to my dorm, I’m struggling. Then again, that’s nothing new because Isabella Grey has always struggled, so why should today be any different?
Chapter 2
Isabella
Walking into my dorm has always been a painful experience. My fellow students stare at me with derision as I slink into the corner where I’ve cowered for the past three years and try to remain unnoticed. Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak is something I sure could have used because if I drew attention to myself it was for all the wrong reasons.
“Ooh look Summer, it’s Smella, I’m surprised you didn’t smell her coming.�
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Summer wrinkles her nose in disgust and turns her back on me as she always has. “Thank god this is the last time we see her. You know, we should receive medals for putting up with her all this time. I pity the poor family who employ this waste of space.”
I stare at the wall, trying hard to keep my usual blank expression in place. At first, I tried to fight back, stand up to the bullies and show them I wasn’t to be messed with. It didn’t work, and they just increased their campaign against me. To this day I don’t understand what I did to make them all hate me so much and they do—hate me, I mean. It’s hard being the only one with no friends and no allies in a nest of vipers. I developed a shell of hate around me that I used to deflect their barbed comments and hurtful remarks. Under my breath I chant, ‘three more hours’ as a spell against their cruelty and count to ten in my mind as I think about my grandmother.
When my parents died, I was sent to live with her and it was only then I realized why my mother had run in the first place. Cold, arrogant and a personality of steel, made up a woman I never liked, let alone loved. I must have been fifteen when I was sent to live with her while I dealt with the pain of losing the only people I ever loved.