Heavy Crown, an all-new forbidden royal romance from bestselling author W. Million is live now!
Alexander Summerset, future King of Bellerive, doesn’t believe in love. When a coronation clause has him seeking a wife, an arranged marriage suits him. His criteria is simple. She must be tolerable to him, and she must be good for the country.
Aurora Wilson followed her boyfriend to Bellerive after college and joined his family’s business. When she discovers him cheating on her, she flees their apartment, and the life that’s trapped her.
An unlikely and unexpected meeting stuns them both. For a man who doesn’t believe in love, he’s suddenly only got eyes for her.
There’s only one problem. He can only marry royalty or a native Bellerivian, and she is neither.
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Whenever I was summoned to my father’s—the king’s—office as a kid, I expected trouble. As an adult and the first in line to the throne, my father and I meet all the time. Finding the request on my calendar isn’t unusual, but given the swirl of controversy surrounding the monarchy right now, I’m uneasy that something else is about to be dropped on me.
When I arrive to his office, the crowd greeting me is a surprise. My younger brothers, Brice and Nick, along with Nick’s soon-to-be wife, Julia, are lounging on the couch. My mother is at my father’s shoulder, standing at attention. My father’s semi-retired secretary, who also happens to be Julia’s mother, is also present. Finally, Desmond, the secretary I share with Nick and Brice, is here too. Every person who could either plot against me or rescue me from my own stupidity is in the room. Thankfully, it’s a big office.
“This feels ominous,” I say. They’ve left the seat directly in front of my father’s desk free.
As a child, standard conversations on etiquette and protocol were had around the dinner table, on our private jet, or in various hotel rooms. If we were called to the office, we were in trouble. Big trouble. My father would be seated across the desk from one or more of us, a reprimand on his lips and suggestions ready for a slew of community service hours. In those instances, he wasn’t my father, he was the king.
This crowd, though, is abnormal—whether in celebration or castigation.
“I wanted to make sure everyone was here for this conversation.” My father taps a thick book on his desk with his index finger.
Is that the coronation manual? I haven’t actually read it. Julia, my younger brother’s fiancée and my father’s current secretary, is in charge of organizing the exchange of power, both the ceremony and legalities.
I examine each person in the room, and no one meets my gaze. Not unusual—as my brother Nick likes to claim, I’m the asshole in the family. It’s a title I don’t relish, and one I’m not convinced I always deserve, but I’m not going to deny I can be abrupt and direct. I am who I am.
“Must be a big mess if you needed everyone. Did you invite the butler too?” I check behind me.
“Alexander,” my mother admonishes me. I run my palms along the armrests of the chair. “Who’s in charge of delivering the doom and gloom?”Ever since my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I haven’t been sure whether he should be leading Bellerive, and he has, for the most part, shared that opinion.
The coronation is almost a year away, but his cognitive decline might not be so predictable.
With the public referendum on legalizing assisted suicide and my father’s disease out on social media, our island politics are in disarray. The Advisory Council of Bellerive, our national government, passed a temporary measure to eliminate royal input until I’m king. They cannot risk a political misstep by having my father involved, especially with some of them up for re-election. Cutting us out isn’t a problem as long as none of the issues require the tie-breaking vote the sovereign provides.
Fingers crossed the country can make it through the year.
“The page is marked.” My father passes the manual across the table to me. I flip it open to the highlighted section and breathe out a frustrated grunt. “‘Prior to the coronation, the heir apparent must be wed,’” I read aloud. “To become king, I need a wife?”
About W. Million
W. Million is a Watty Award winner whose contemporary romances about strong women and troubled men have captivated her loyal readers.
Writing as Wendy Million, she is the author of the romantic suspense series The Donaghey Brothers, the NA sports romance Saving Us, and the contemporary second chance romance, When Stars Fall.
When not writing, Wendy enjoys spending time in or around the water. She lives in Ontario, Canada with two beautiful daughters, two cute pooches, and one handsome husband (who is grateful she doesn’t need two of those).
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