Prince of Hate

PRINCE OF HATE A DARK MAFIA CAPTIVE ROMANCE JAGGER COLE Prince of Hate Jagger Cole © 2023 All rights reserved. Cover and interior design by Plan 9 Book Design Photography by Wander Aguiar This is a literary work of fiction. Any names, places, or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or establishments, are solely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, distribution of, or use of this copyrighted work in the training of AI is illegal and a violation of US copyright law. Created with Vellum CONTENTS Playlist Trigger Warning 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 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Epilogue Savage Heir Preview Also by Jagger Cole About the Author PLAYLIST The National Anthem - Radiohead Meet Me in the Woods - Lord Huron Drink You Sober - Bitter:Sweet Black Hole Sun - Sofia Karlberg Hey Man, Nice Shot - Filter Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 27 No. 2 - Ludwig Van Beethoven Stonecatcher - Marcus Mumford, Phoebe Bridgers If I Had A Heart - Fever Ray Stronger - SAULT Gnossiennes: No. 1 - Erik Satie The Tain, Pt. II - The Decemberists Right Where It Belongs - Nine Inch Nails The Funeral - Band of Horses Comptine d’un autre été, l’après-midi - Yann Tiersen That’s Where I Am - Maggie Rogers After Dark - Mr.Kitty Here with Me - Susie Suh Civilian - Wye Oak On the Nature of Daylight - Max Richter All I Need To Hear - The 1975 Listen to the playlist on Spotify! TRIGGER WARNING This book contains darker themes and graphic depictions of past trauma, as well as mentions of SA and the off-screen loss of a (adult) child. While these scenes were written to create a more vivid, in-depth story, they may be triggering to some readers. Please read with that in mind. 1 Around me, the house is an inferno. Engulfed in flames, strangled by smoke and ash. Fire roars hungrily and hisses in my peripheral vision as I stumble choking through the blaze. My skin burns. My eyes water. The uncaring flames rip into and sear my heart, shredding it raw as the screams and pleas for help hit me like so many knives to the chest. Again, and again. Help me. Help me, it burns. He’s burning. I’m burning. The whole fucking world is burning. And I can’t help him. I surge forward into the raging hurricane of fire and smoke, seeing nothing, feeling everything. I keep moving. I keep fighting until the heat sends me to my knees. The ceiling begins to cave in, but I’m still crawling, clawing at the very fucking floorboards, oblivious to the way they crumble to ash beneath my fingers. Heedless of the way the smoke turns my lungs black. I’m coming. I’m coming. But I can’t reach him. The whine becomes a roar. The flames become Hell itself as the entire house begins to crumble and crash and burn. And burn, and burn, and burn. Everything burns. Everything crumbles to ash. Until the whole world is streaked with soot and blood. Cinder and bone. Gray and dead. I close my eyes, reaching out one last time through the gaping maw of the fire demon roaring towards me. But as the ceiling crashes down, all I know is pain, fire and death. This is how a golden god falls. This is how a dynasty ends. This is how the world goes dark. And how a beast emerges. 2 I can’t breathe. My nerves feel raw and shattered, like a live wire sparking as it snakes over the ground. My throat constricts as it tries to muscle down the lump caught in the middle of it. But then, my mouth opens. And just as my hand clenches on the edge of the polished wood conference table, air fills my lungs. Okay, I can breathe. I’m just being dramatic, as Sister Carmen would—and often does—say to me. I swallow thickly again, feeling the lump in my throat finally sink into the black pit forming in my stomach. My teeth rake across my bottom lip, and I nervously glance down at the clothes I’m not used to wearing. Sitting in an environment I’m not used to being in. Preparing to talk about things I know nothing about. Where the hell are you, Dad? My hands run across the edge of the conference table in front of me. Apart, together, apart, then together again, my fingers beginning to claw and pick at each other’s cuticles. Is it hot in here? Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I’ve caught something. Maybe— A hand lands on top of mine: soft fingers, exquisitely manicured nails, a firm grip steadying my jangling nerves. I turned to smile weakly at the only other person currently in the conference room. The corners of Elsa’s perfectly done, and yet tastefully professional lips curl up. She raises a brow, her sharp hazel eyes locking with mine. It calms me, at least momentarily. “Take a breath, Rose.” I do, shaking a little as my lungs fill with air. My father’s attorney smiles and pats my hand again before releasing it. “Just let me do the talking, okay?” I nod, telling myself I feel better now. But really, all I end up doing is moving my