Wicked Union

WICKED UNION JILLIAN FROST Also by Jillian Frost Princes of Devil’s Creek Cruel Princes Vicious Queen Savage Knights Battle King Read the Series Boardwalk Mafia Boardwalk Kings Boardwalk Queen Boardwalk Reign Read the Series The Devil’s Knights Legacy Wicked Union Dirty Heirs Twisted Finale Read the Series For a complete list of books, visit JillianFrost.com. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, both living or deceased, establishments, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 Jillian Frost All rights reserved. Editing by Erica Rogers | Logophile Editing Services No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 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 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 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Epilogue The Aftermath Want more of my books? Cruel Princes Also by Jillian Frost Get to know Jillian Frost About the Author Chapter One GRACE Ten years ago, I died, replaced by someone else. Katarina was a distant memory of the past. A girl who laughed and loved life. Someone who didn’t know the real monsters of the world were wealthy men in suits. “These people know who I really am,” I told my grandfather as the limousine journeyed up the steep hill. “Does that mean I can go back to being Katarina?” The founders of Devil’s Creek and their children were aware of my situation. They understood why my grandfather changed my name to Grace and sent me to live with Colonel John Hale. I’d been using my new name for ten years. But sometimes, I wanted to return to the girl I was before my life went to shit. “You’re never to use the name Katarina Adams Romanov,” my grandfather said in a firm tone as we headed down Founders Way. “She’s dead.” “I don’t want to pretend anymore.” I knew better than to speak out of turn with my grandfather. So when he slapped me across the face, I expected it. “Don’t you dare talk back. If not for me, you would have been in the foster care system.” If only I were that lucky… I rubbed my sore cheek and sighed. His jaw clenched as he studied my face. “I showed you mercy by sending you to live with the Colonel.” My grandfather was the wealthiest man in the world. He owned banks, tech and oil companies, and a list of other businesses he probably strong-armed the owners into selling. Despite growing up with so much wealth, I never had anything. For the three years that I lived with him, he imprisoned me in his mansion and home-schooled me. I never had friends or left the confines of his house. We lived on the beach, but he never let me go beyond the front gate. After my mother’s murder, my grandfather sent my father to a prison on the sea. But when I was eleven, he escaped and had been looking for me since. If the rumors were true, my father was an evil man. A terrorist. So I became Grace Hale. With each day I lived with my grandfather, my heart slowly blackened, the anger and rage bubbling inside me. I even wondered if I was like my biological father. Then, a stranger saved me. The Colonel became my dad. I had a family again. So I soaked up my freedom with my adoptive father. He gave me everything I never had with my grandfather. We got to travel the world and live on military bases. My dad was like a brother to a man named Mark Marshall. He lived in Devil’s Creek, a small town on the coast of Connecticut. The residents were my grandfather’s allies and loyal to him. We could trust them. The Colonel was away for the summer on a training mission for the Marine Corps. While he was gone, I would live with Mark Marshall and his family. Only five families lived on Founders Way. They were rich, powerful, and connected, and I feared they would be cruel and hateful like my grandfather. My heart clambered in my chest as the limousine stopped at the guarded gate. I could see why they called this place Fort Marshall. The estate looked like an old fortress on the sea, with armed men dressed in black camouflage clutching machine guns. You couldn’t see much beyond the high brick walls. The home was set so far back on the property I could only make out a pointed tower that reminded me of architecture from another century. We parked in front of the three-story mansion with dozens of windows and painted shutters. This wasn’t a home. It was a compound. Aside from the main house, there were five other buildings on the property that I could see. They had three garages with several exotic cars parked out front. My grandfather’s home took up half a block but always felt small. Probably because I stared at the same four walls for years. I even ate most of my meals in that room. “I better not hear anything but