King's Queen

  King's Queen

  Oil Kings, Book 5

  Marie Johnston

  LE Publishing

  Copyright © 2021 by Marie Johnston

  Editing by Razor Sharp Editing

  Proofing by MBE, Judy’s Proofreading, and Deaton Author Services

  Cover Art by Secret Identity Graphics

  Photographer: Jane Ashley Converse

  Model: Dane Peterson

  Photograph Licensed by: The Cover Lab, LLC

  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.

  The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.

  Created with Vellum

  When Aiden King asked me out four years ago, I went from mousy librarian to wife of the most wanted bachelor in Montana in four months flat. No longer the nerdy girl from the wrong side of the tracks, I was a CFO’s wife in a mansion by the river—and my husband was the man of my dreams. I almost couldn’t believe my good fortune.

  * * *

  Turns out, I shouldn’t have believed it. After years of rattling around that mansion alone while Aiden put in long hours at the office, I learned his secret: he’d needed to marry someone, anyone, to fulfill his trust requirements, and the nerdy girl from the wrong side of the tracks had been an easy target.

  * * *

  I never thought I’d be the girl asking a handsome millionaire for a divorce. Now, my pride and I just want to limp back to my family and start over. But to do that, I’ll have to swallow one question. If the trust only required him to be married for a year, why has it been four years since we said I do?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  Also by Marie Johnston

  Chapter 1

  Aiden

  * * *

  Four years and six months ago…

  * * *

  My office door whipped open. Grams appeared in the doorway like an avenging angel in a business suit. Emilia Boyd never looked like she was relaxed and happy, but today her eyes were narrowed, her mouth pinched. The office LED lights gleamed off her silver bob. “Aiden, meet me in your dad’s office.”

  My fingers hovered above my keyboard. I was in the middle of compiling a five-year historical financial report for King Oil’s stakeholders. “Now?”

  She just gave me a look that told me to quit being stupid, of course she meant now. Patience wasn’t one of Grams’s virtues.

  I saved my work. I had the process of compiling various historical reports down to an art, but it was still time-consuming. One of many time-consuming tasks I had on my list to get done before the next board meeting.

  Grams had left my door open, and I stared at it for a moment. What was Grams doing here? Why the urgency? My dad, Gentry, was the CEO of King Oil, and I was the CFO. Grams wasn’t here on a work matter, or we’d know about it.

  Oh, Grams wasn’t completely out of the game. King Oil had been hers, founded by her and my grandpa DB under a different name decades ago. Now she stayed on as president of the board of directors. Our monthly meeting had been last week. It didn’t mean she stayed out of the day-to-day operations, but she’d retired enough to give Dad and me breathing room at work.

  I had no doubt we’d have to pry her cold, dead fingers away from the building before she ever retired completely.

  If it was a family emergency, Dad would’ve known before Grams. My brothers and I didn’t get together often, but we’d call Dad before Grams. She had been a steady part of our lives, but unless it was a milestone like high school or college graduation, she only bothered when it came to work. Her motto was “live and let live, unless you’re talking about King Oil.”

  I rose from my desk and turned, my gaze roving over the wall of windows at my back. Through the tint of the glass, the blue Montana sky taunted me. It was the middle of spring. This used to be my favorite time of the year.

  Calving would be over. I’d work cattle with my three brothers, and there’d be mud pits all over our land that four boys could get into way too much trouble in. Those days were over. Sometimes I returned to King’s Creek to help my youngest brother, Dawson, work the cattle, but it was never often enough. The best I could do was take my daily runs outside instead of on the treadmill, listening and reading some of the many messages that bombarded my various inboxes.

  I tore my gaze from the beautiful weather that would be perfect to ride horse in, straightened my tie, snapped my suit coat to discourage any wrinkles from sticking around, and walked out the door.

  Dad’s assistant, Phillip, wasn’t at his desk. He was the only help we were allowed in the inner office. Phillip was good, but we could use three more Phillips. I bypassed his desk, planted front and center of the elevator. He didn’t miss who came and went, and more importantly, he could stop them from intruding on me and Dad. The other office in the corner was the one Grams used. I wouldn’t be surprised if she sometimes sat in there because she had nothing else to do. This company was her life.

  Grams was pacing the length of Dad’s office by the time I entered and shut the door behind me. Another man in a gray pinstripe suit sat across from Dad.

  Our family lawyer, Ellis. What was so critical that he’d driven from King’s Creek to Billings to tell us in person?

  “Hi, Aiden.” The creases in his face were deeper than the last time I’d seen him. Age or stress? Both?

  “Have a seat,” Dad said. His expression was serious but he gave no other indication that he knew what this meeting was about. I sat in the chair next to Ellis. Grams continued to pace behind us.

  Dad reclined in his seat and tented his fingers. “Go ahead and tell Aiden and me what this is all about.”

  Ellis licked his lips and the lines around his eyes deepened. “It’s come to my attention…” He huffed out a breath. “I mean, there was no way to give myself a reminder. This was years ago.”

  “Tell them, Ellis,” Grams demanded.

  “Yes. Right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Before she died, Sarah put some money in a trust for each of the kids.” His gaze darted between me and Dad.

  Ice crystals crowded my veins. Being reminded of Mama’s death was never easy, as if I didn’t think about it every day. I erected a mental block before I could be sucked into the past, to the day Mama had been killed and the dreary months afterward.

  Dad’s brow furrowed, but I didn’t miss the beat of sorrow in his eyes. “A trust?”

  Dad didn’t know about this?

  “The terms, Ellis,” Grams snapped.

  Ellis jumped, but adjusted his weight to another butt cheek to hide it. “A rather sizable sum of one hundred million dollars was set aside for each of the kids.”

  For me and my brothers? That was a lot of money. I made an excellent wage as King Oil’s CFO, but not one hundred million dollars.

  “From the partial sale of King Oil. Years ago.” A storm raged in her eyes. Grams had loved
Mama—her only child. And she loved money. Mama was gone, but this money wasn’t. “I gifted it to her to put into a trust. But I never thought…” She waved her hand at Ellis. “What was she thinking?”

  Ellis licked his lips again. He’d need an entire tube of ChapStick before this meeting was done. “It’s payable on each kid’s thirtieth birthday. However.” A shadow rippled over his features, and the already diminutive man shrank in his chair. “The stipulations require that each boy be married for one year before the trust is paid out. If that boy has already been married for the requisite year, or gets a divorce sometime after, the money will be split in half. It is exempt from any prenuptial agreement.”

  I snorted. Married. Did my job count? It was the only girlfriend, fiancée, or mistress that I had.

  Grams’s glare bore reality into me. I would turn twenty-nine later this year. Was I expected to get married and get this money?

  How the hell would that work? I wasn’t seeing anyone. I didn’t really date. I’d go on a date here and there. I worked my ass off, but sometimes I wanted to get laid too. That was the only reason I dated. My work was all-consuming. I’d been groomed for this job since I was…since Mama had died. My grandparents had founded this company. My dad had worked for it since I was born.

  I was the oldest. It was my job to continue in the family’s footsteps.

  Mama’s casket had barely been lowered into the ground when Grams and DB had told me that the fate of the ranch rested on my shoulders, and that my brothers were looking up to me. Dad had the company to worry about.

  I’d done it. I’d raised my three younger brothers and run the ranch that Mama had managed from when I was thirteen until I’d left home at eighteen. Then I’d poured myself into the company. Because that had been what was expected too.

  Now that included getting married?

  I wasn’t against the idea, but the few times I’d tried to see someone, I’d been left disappointed. They wanted to date Aiden King, the prince of an oil empire. Aiden King, the face that graced the billboards with his dad—only once, but that had been more than enough. Aiden King, the guy who’d built a big house to go with that massive paycheck.

  They’d heard about the private jet. They’d heard about my salary. They’d seen the local magazine feature about the custom home I’d built outside of town along the Yellowstone River. They wanted the lifestyle. Not me. And certainly not my schedule.

  “That’s not the worst of it.” Grams’s heel dug into the carpet. If she wasn’t careful, she’d shred a hole in the material.

  Ellis’s head did a passable imitation of a bobblehead’s. “Right. Um, if the stipulations aren’t met, the trust will go to Daniel Cartwright, or his daughter, Bristol, if Danny has passed.”

  The money would go to the neighbor responsible for Mama’s death?

  “Sarah set this up?” Dad’s incredulous tone made it clear I wasn’t the only one losing their mind.

  Ellis tipped his head. “She did. Made me draw up a confidentiality contract as soon as she entered my office. Attorney-client privilege wasn’t enough for her. Truth be told, I forgot about it not long after. Your kids all turned out to be decent young men. I had no doubt they’d each find someone and get married.” He cleared his throat and his eyes darted to me, then skated away.

  None of us were married, or even close to it. My brother Beck hadn’t been in a relationship that lasted longer than six months. Was he seeing someone now? I didn’t talk to him enough to know.

  Xander was somewhere in the world. He could be married, but I doubted it. That’d take commitment and Xander didn’t commit to anything, much less anyone.

  Dawson had come the closest with his college girlfriend, but he’d been running the family ranch for almost two years now. And that college girlfriend was long gone. He dated, and that was it. He never mentioned anyone special.

  “You need to get married, Aiden.” Grams stared me down like she’d tasked me with saving the world.

  “Grams.” I didn’t want our seedy neighbors to get the money any more than she did but this was my life she was talking about—and someone else’s. My future wife’s.

  “Emilia.” Patience laced Dad’s voice. He was good with Grams. He’d married Mama right after high school graduation. She’d been pregnant with me and they’d been too scared to go against Grams and DB when they’d laid out how it was going to be. Get married. Mama, stay home and keep the ranch going. Dad, start at the oil company. Because of all that, Grams and Dad had history. He could handle her moods and redirect her ire.

  She shook her head. “DB and I worked too hard for that money.” Grandpa DB was long gone, which was for the best. He had a worse temper than Grams and this news would’ve put him straight in the hospital. “We trusted Sarah with that money. It was our legacy to pass to our grandkids,” she hissed. “I’d been too busy to deal with it. I should’ve known better.”

  Should’ve known that Mama had a tender heart that wasn’t driven by the bottom line? Yeah, Grams should’ve known. But this trust didn’t make sense.

  Grams stabbed a finger at me. “You’re the oldest, Aiden. If you do this, you can show your brothers that this money is rightfully theirs and they’d better do what they need to in order to keep it in the family.” A disgusted sound left her. “And keep it away from the damn Cartwrights.”

  “Now, let’s talk about this.” Dad had learned to be part politician. But he wasn’t dragging me out of the office, grabbing the first single woman we passed, and hauling us to the altar like I was sure Grams wanted to. Dad eyed Ellis. “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “Every contract has loopholes but Sarah paid extra to minimize them, and…you’re running out of time.” No wonder Ellis was so nervous. Grams’s fingers twitched like she wanted to wrap them around his neck and squeeze. “Additionally, if Danny were to hear about this and we didn’t do everything to the letter…”

  Dad’s expression darkened.

  Grams radiated rage, her hands fisting. Dad’s jaw clenched and his shoulders tightened. I could practically see his blood pressure climbing. This news was hard on them.

  Grams was right. I was the oldest. It was up to me to set the example. To pave the way for my siblings, like I’d done with the company.

  Dad cleared his throat. “I can’t argue that what you decide to do, Aiden—”

  “Which had better be finding a wife,” Grams snapped.

  “—will dictate how your brothers handle the trust. But”—Dad shot Grams a quelling look she ignored—“the decision is yours. No matter what.”

  No matter what.

  The survival of the ranch. It’s up to you, Aiden.

  Raising my brothers without our increasingly absent father. It’s up to you, Aiden.

  It’s a family company. We need to keep it that way. It’s up to you, Aiden.

  It’s up to you, Aiden.

  Fuuuuck.

  If I didn’t get married, my entire family would be pissed at me. I’d be pissed at me. Danny Cartwright didn’t deserve the mud in his driveway, much less one hundred fucking million dollars. He was the reason we’d lost Mama and had to deal with this trust in the first place.

  And if I married? If I married just for the money, would that be what my brothers did? Would they sacrifice their own happiness and find someone who’d say I do for millions of dollars? Worse, what if the public learned of this trust? My brothers would be pursued by all sorts of gold diggers. It was hard enough to find meaningful relationships as a King.

  It’s up to you, Aiden.

  “I’ll take care of it.” It was what I did. All three heads swiveled toward me. I lifted a shoulder. “That money’s ours. I’ll make sure it stays in the family.” And I’d make sure news of the trust stayed within the family too.

  “I can’t imagine this is what Sarah wanted.” Dad’s tone oozed disappointment.

  But it was. Ellis had the signed proof of it. And Dad was leaving the decision up to me—because I always
made the right one. I came through. It was what I did. I was the oldest; I had to set the example.

  My chest tightened. “Mama made the trust for a reason. She had to know that if something happened to her and she couldn’t give us the money, we’d do everything possible to keep Danny from getting it.” Mama had been softer toward our troubled neighbor than any of us, but she hadn’t been blind. “I’m not going to let her down.”

  Mama had been taken away from us and it had nearly destroyed our family. I wasn’t going to let this trust destroy my brothers’ chance at happiness.

  Kate

  * * *

  Two months later…

  * * *

  His voice left me breathless, like I’d run three miles instead of walking from the parking lot to the conference room where our King Oil tour group was being greeted.

  I didn’t run. I liked a brisk walk, but if anyone saw me running, they’d better sprint because something was on fire or chasing me. Yet my heart hammered worse than any sprinter’s.

  Had Aiden King always had that deep of a voice? Had I ever heard the CFO of King Oil talk before? He’d murmured “good match” to my brother during wrestling matches in high school, but he’d never been the center of attention.

  Oh, he’d been the center of my attention. If staring were a crime, I’d have been on top of Montana’s Most Wanted list.

  Aiden King.

  Another speaker started talking. Aiden’s dad, Gentry. The CEO’s voice was deep too, but with a mature timbre, as he told us about when King Oil headquarters had moved out of his hometown of King’s Creek, Montana, to the sophisticated new office building in Billings.