White Rabbit Read online

  White Rabbit: The Fall

  The Kingmaker Saga Book Two

  London Miller

  LM Books, LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by London Miller

  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.

  Cover by London Miller

  Editing by Editing4Indies

  Praise for London Miller

  “London Miller writes with both complex emotion, high paced intensity and a diverse cast of misfits that you can't help falling in love with.”

  Bestselling Author, Mary Catherine Gebhard

  “This series continues to play out much like a chess game with all the players being moved around but with no known end …”

  Amazon Reviewer, Sandy

  “The way the Den of Mercenaries and Wild Bunch series are intricately woven into each other is impressive.”

  Edgy Reviews, Lily

  Also by London Miller

  The Kingmaker Saga

  White Rabbit: The Rise

  Black Swan

  Red Herring

  Dark Horse

  * * *

  Volkov Bratva

  In the Beginning

  Until the End

  The Final Hour

  Valon: What Once Was

  Hidden Monsters

  The Morning

  Time Stood Still

  Down the Line

  * * *

  Den of Mercenaries

  Red.

  Celt.

  Nix.

  Calavera.

  Skorpion.

  Syn.

  Iris.

  Something Green.

  * * *

  The Wild Bunch

  Crooks & Kings

  Shadows & Silence

  * * *

  Seasons of Betrayal

  Where the Sun Hides

  Where the Snow Falls

  Where the Wind Whispers

  * * *

  Standalones

  Acquainted

  Newsletter

  Keep up with all things London Miller, including exclusive cover reveals, giveaways, and more!

  http://eepurl.com/dADuKn

  To H & Kris,

  Thanks for keeping me sane.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue: Left Unsaid

  1. Dreams

  2. Feel It

  3. New Beginnings

  4. Bishop Amell

  5. A Curious Suggestion

  6. Differences

  7. The Freelancer

  8. Interactions

  9. Lessons in Respect

  10. Meetings With Wolves

  11. Bend

  12. Old Friends

  13. Kyrnon

  14. Brothers

  15. Weaklink

  16. Complicit

  17. Final Warning

  18. Secrets

  19. Pity

  20. Reap and Sow

  21. Lifted Veil

  22. Compromises

  23. Slip

  24. Complications

  25. Mistakes

  26. A Reminder

  27. Quiet His Mind

  28. Lessons Learned

  29. Syn

  30. Lost

  31. Break Me

  32. A King’s Work

  33. Family

  34. Sprawling Lies

  35. Respect

  36. Bang

  37. Merciless

  38. Drowning

  39. Something to Find

  40. All the King’s Men

  Newsletter

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Foreword

  Welcome to the second installment in the Kingmaker Saga. I want to stress that this is a saga—a story that’s going to span multiple books. In this case, there will be five books total in the Kingmaker Saga.

  This means, all the answers will not be provided in just one book, but will be revealed over the course of the series.

  So buckle up and I hope you enjoy the ride.

  * * *

  xx LM

  Prologue: Left Unsaid

  Something was quite beautiful and pure about freshly fallen snow.

  The blanket of white that usually covered a stretch of brown grass.

  The once-promising green leaves all but forgotten as the spindly limbs stretched high above, barren and lifeless.

  Karina Ashworth had never been particularly fond of winter—she detested the way it nipped at her cheeks and chafed her skin. How the changing of the weather usually signified that she would be leaving Miss Pennylow’s School for Girls and returning home … wherever home was that year.

  She didn’t feel the same joy as her classmates did for the promise of a Christmas spent with family and old friends. Of camaraderie and warmth that the holidays were upon them.

  Instead, she had always felt the slow manifestation of dread. From the moment exams were over, to the hours she spent packing away what she deemed worthy enough to take with her, and finally now, sitting in the back of a black Town Car that smelled of lemon and mint as she was driven to her home for the next couple of months until she returned to school.

  She stared out the window, watching the passing scenery as she ventured toward a house that, despite the continued effort of the man who owned it, had never felt very much like home.

  It was beautiful, she couldn’t deny, but it lacked that something that made her eager to return to it.

  “Miss Ashworth?”

  Drawn from her rather somber thoughts, Karina turned from the window to look up at the driver. She couldn’t see very much of him, not with the way she’d ducked down in the seat, but she could just see the top of the man’s head covered by a driver’s cap, the wispy ends of his blond hair curling out from beneath it.

  He was nice—though Karina didn’t have a lot of knowledge on drivers, considering he was her first—and always smiled at her when he was tasked with taking her to and from places. One time, she was sure he’d had a cold with the way his nose and cheeks had been flushed red, and his voice had taken on that reedy tone that her sister, Isla, always said meant someone had a cold in their chest, but it hadn’t stopped him from opening the door for her and making sure she was comfortable.

  Her mother, Katherine, would say that it was his job to act this way, but Karina, even at ten years old, didn’t think it was anyone’s job to be kind—it just showed who a person was.

  “Yes, Mr. Simon?”

  A smile touched the corners of his mouth before his expression reverted to its neutral state. “We’re approaching the manor,” he said with a slight nod of his head. “Ten minutes away, I’d say.”

  “Thank you.”

  As she sat back, smoothing out the front of her pleated skirt, Karina wondered whether it was a lie to express gratitude when she didn’t feel any. If it were, it had to be a harmless one, surely? Mother had always said lying should only be used when absolutely necessary, but Miss Callahan, her professor, said a lady should always aspire to tell the truth.

  That it showed more of a person’s true character when they could express honesty, even if the truth had consequences.

  While she still wasn’t sure how she felt on the matter, she didn’t think this particular lie would get her into too much trouble.

  And therein lay her conundrum. The truth, no matter how nicely put, could be misconstrued—warped into something else.

  If she said she wasn’t particularly thrilled to be home, would she then sound like an ungrateful, spoiled child, even if she didn’t mean it that way?
r />   And even if she were to remain silent, couldn’t that be misinterpreted as well?

  It was far easier to smile no matter what she was feeling. Eventually, it would appear more real to herself.

  By the time they arrived outside the picturesque manor with its stone walls and the giant fountain out front, the snow had begun to fall in earnest, thick flakes clinging to everything in sight. It was beautiful, every bit of it, and after growing up in a poor town not too far from here, it was certainly a step up from what she had always known.

  To her surprise, as Mr. Simon drove ’round the roundabout, John McIvery was waiting at the front door. He stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, at least until they approached. As the car came to a stop, he started toward them, a smile already blooming.

  John had the sort of face that made him feel rather trusting—soft jaw and stiff upper lip as her mother liked to say. He was usually in a pair of khaki trousers and a jumper—the few times she had actually seen him before she had left for school and the occasional photograph Katherine would send of the pair of them off on some glamorous holiday. Today was no different except his usually tidy brown hair was a bit more unkempt, the wispy strands in front and thinning hairline a touch more noticeable now.

  Karina looked past him, expecting to find her mother waiting in the wings to welcome her home after she had been gone for the past five months, but as far as she could tell, Katherine wasn’t there at all.

  Before she could get the door open herself, John was there to pull it open, offering his hand as any gentleman would to help her out.

  “It’s good to see you, dear. How was your flight?”

  “It was fine, thank you,” she said, remembering her manners there at the end.

  Though Katherine was nowhere to be seen, she could still imagine the look of censure had she not remembered to say those two words, especially because he had been the one to foot the bill for all of this, including her flight home.

  “Here, let’s grab your luggage.”

  Both he and Mr. Simon walked around to the boot of the car and retrieved her trunk as well as the two smaller bags that carried her most prized possessions.

  Unlike her sister, who had always found books rather boring unless there was some great adventure or evil plan, Karina had always enjoyed escaping into the pages, no matter their content. She liked escaping her reality, even if only for a while.

  Speaking of her sister …

  “Is Isla home?”

  John smiled indulgently. “Inside waiting for you, I’d imagine.”

  That sparked a genuine smile, her excitement rushing forward. “Thank you, Mr. McIvery.”

  “No need for thanks, dear, and as I’ve said, please call me John.”

  Despite the nod she offered him, Karina had no intention of doing that. It was a bit rude to call a man several decades older than her by his Christian name—Isla, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind—but she also had no intention of calling him by her mother’s preference either.

  She might have liked him just fine, but he wasn’t her father, and she didn’t feel right addressing him as though he were.

  There wasn’t even a guarantee he would be around for very long—none of the rest had made it beyond a year.

  Venturing inside the manor, Karina inhaled the familiar scent of burning firewood, briefly hearing the crackling logs as she darted past the living room and up the stairs.

  Her designated room sat at the very end of the hallway with the door still closed. But she didn’t bother heading in just yet because the thought of seeing her sister outweighed her desire to sleep after such a long journey.

  Nearly to the room with the cracked door, her smile was already stretching wider even before she found her Isla sitting inside.

  It always seemed so impossible how her sister seemed to change in the short amount of time they were separated each year. The dark hair they shared was now a shade lighter, a rich chocolate brown as opposed to the nearly black that hers still was.

  She sat at her vanity, a makeup brush in her hand as she carefully swept shadow across her eyelids. At first glance, it looked as if she wasn’t breathing with the sheer concentration she gave to her task, but after one last flick of her wrist, she put the brush down, and a brilliant smile lit up her face.

  “It’s about time you got here. It’s been awfully boring without you.”

  Karina would certainly be happy to see her mother—whenever she arrived back home—but she was most excited to see Isla.

  She meant the most in the world to her. It was her letters Karina looked forward to the most every Friday morning when the mail was delivered to the dorm rooms back at her boarding school.

  Unlike the stories she told about her classmates and the very few scandals that took place when she was away from her, Isla always had fun tales to share about her classmates or even the professors—like the one who had been caught courting a student.

  “How were your roommates this year?” she asked, gesturing for her to sit on the bed. “Tell me all about them.”

  The unease she felt being at home slowly slipped away as she sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed, and by the time she started speaking, Karina had forgotten all about why she had dreaded coming here.

  “Dinner is ready!” Katherine called from somewhere in the kitchen some hours later, her voice sounding a bit strange.

  Karina could feel something was off even before she left the living room where she had been sitting with a book in her lap, lost in the pages of the historical romance she was reading. There was a certain … tension in the air—though she couldn’t quite say why she felt that way. Isla seemed quite oblivious to it as she came rushing down the stairs, the tail of her skirt fluttering at her ankles.

  But Karina tried not to think too much about it as she smoothed her hands over the front of her dress, making sure she hadn’t wrinkled the material too badly.

  Unlike when she was at school and there was no one to critique her appearance, Katherine would.

  Appearances, she had said one evening while brushing her hair, are most important.

  It didn’t matter that they were in the comfort of their own home or that they were surrounded by family—one must always put their best foot forward.

  The table setting was just as beautiful as Karina remembered. From the bouquets of lilies sitting in the middle of the table to the platters of roasted chicken, vegetables, and rolls that sat on polished serving dishes around them. Even the place settings hadn’t been spared from Katherine’s touch—the fine china sitting on silver chargers, the rolled napkins and flatware resting on top.

  It always made her self-conscious when she sat at the table—careful of the way she held herself or even the shoes she wore because she’d be afraid to track dirt in on the very clean floors.

  She found her seat next to Isla’s, waiting with her hands folded in her lap for her mother to come out of the kitchen with the rest of the meal she’d prepared. John was the last to enter the dining room, the welcoming smile that had been so prevalent on his face now replaced by a look that couldn’t quite be considered grim but was more … mulish.

  As if something had greatly upset him.

  But for as long as she had known him—and it arguably hadn’t been that long, all things considered—he wasn’t the sort of man to complain.

  At least not in front of her and Isla.

  There had been a few nights during the past summer when she’d thought she had heard her mother and John arguing behind the closed door of their bedroom, but their voices were too muffled to make out what they’d been saying. And though she had wanted to creep out and press her ear to the door just to have a little listen, Isla had come in with bottles of varnish to distract her.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if this would be another one of those nights.

  Before he sat, he walked over to the bar cart to the left of the table and dropped two ice cubes into a crystal-cut glass before pouring far
more whiskey than she’d seen him drink. He didn’t bother walking away before finishing it, then poured another.

  Sharing a look with Isla whose brows had crept up to her hairline, Karina quickly looked back down at her plate, wondering just how quickly this dinner could end so she could retreat to her room.

  “Here we are,” Katherine announced as she came out, carrying a tray of desserts that she placed on the end of the table.

  It didn’t matter that she had been in the kitchen for more than an hour since she’d returned home earlier, her appearance was still impeccable. From the dress she wore that was still the same color as the rather large jade ring on her finger to her heels that were a modest height in a flattering shade of nude.

  Her blond hair was carefully waved, pinned back on one side with a hair clip that glimmered when she turned her head and not a strand out of place. Even the half apron she wore around her waist was spotless with no traces of flour on her at all.

  It had always amazed Karina that Katherine could go an entire day without any sort of mishap to her appearance. Even when she tried her best not to get her new trainers dirty, she always seemed to find a speck of dirt or mud on them by the time she got home.