Novels by Her Majesty in Red

MARCUSI didn’t expect it.Hell, I didn’t expect her.Julia DeCavalcante. The quiet, trembling little thing always hiding behind her glass of champagne, shrinking every time her father opened his mouth. She was just background noise to me. Don Augustus’s daughter, nothing more.I never liked her. Not really. To me, she was a fragile bird fluttering inside a cage she didn’t even understand. Easy to rattle, easy to toy with.I’d toss her a mocking word here and there just to see her flinch, just to remind her she lived in a world that didn’t give a damn about delicate creatures like her.But last night… last night she turned everything on its head.The kiss at the bar. The way she came to me, trembling but bold enough to touch fire. The way she gasped beneath me when I realized that no one had fucking ever touched her before me.A virgin. In this world. At her age. And she gave that to me.Not Nero. Not some useless son of another family. Me. Marcus Lucchesi. Twice her age, her father’

JULIAThe first thing I felt when consciousness dragged me back was pain. A deep, throbbing ache between my thighs that made me wince before I even opened my eyes. My body was heavy, sore, every inch of me weighed down by exhaustion.I stirred, the sheets soft beneath my fingers, and confusion clouded me. Where was I? This wasn’t my room at home. The air smelled faintly of leather and smoke, not the lavender that Livia insisted on having in every corner of the mansion.My lashes fluttered open. Pale morning light seeped through the hotel curtains, and then memory crashed into me.The ballroom. Terra and Nero. The whiskey. Marcus.Heat shot through me so violently I curled tighter under the blanket, clutching it to my chest.And that was when the bathroom door opened.Steam rolled out in a slow wave, carrying with it the sharp scent of soap. Marcus stepped into the room with only a towel slung low around his hips, his hair damp, droplets sliding down the broad planes of his chest.My

JULIATears pricked my eyes. My chest ached so hard it hurt to breathe.“What should I do with you,” he murmured darkly, leaning closer until his breath fanned across my ear, “if you keep making rash moves, hm?”His thumb brushed me, slow, deliberate, teasing in a way that made me gasp. A pathetic sound tore from my throat, part pleasure, part fear.Marcus’s smirk deepened. “So sensitive.” his tone was threaded with amusement, but also something sharper, like hunger. “This obviously hurts.” his lips ghosted the shell of my ear as his voice dropped lower. “Bear with it.”“Ahh!”My heart slammed in my chest, erratic, frantic. My body trembled beneath him, torn between wanting to run and wanting to disappear inside the heat of him.Then he pressed forward.Agony ripped through me, white-hot and unbearable. My body seized, my nails clawing into his naked back as a strangled cry broke from my lips.Marcus froze instantly, his chest heaving as though fighting himself. His jaw was tight, his

JULIASilence stretched between us.Marcus froze beneath the kiss, his body was stiff and his glass still clutched in his hand. When I pulled back, my breath came out shaky. His eyes narrowed, not with anger or disgust, but with something else entirely, with a darkness I couldn’t name.His lips parted slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what I’d done. Then, a low laugh rumbled from his chest as if rough and amused.“You…” his gaze swept over me, from my trembling hands to my tear-bright eyes. “Did you really just kiss me?”I swallowed hard and couldn’t find the right words to answer him. My knees threatened to buckle.He leaned closer, tilting his head as though trying to study me from a new angle. He really looked entertained now.“I-I told you I’m not jealous!” I blurted out without thinking.“Heh. You surprise me, princess,” Marcus said, his voice was low and sharp. “I thought you’d be obedient, quiet… but you…” his lips curved slowly. “…you’ve got fire tucked beneath all that t

JULIA“Lower your eyes, Julia. Don’t embarrass me.”My father’s words sliced into me. He has always been this cold and sharp with me. I dropped my gaze instantly, my fingers tightening around the stem of my champagne flute until my hand shook. The bubbles fizzed and mocked me, but I dared not look up again. Don Augustus DeCavalcante had spoken. When the mafia king of the continent commanded, you obeyed—even if you were his only blood.Especially if you were his only blood…The ballroom erupted in applause. Terra spun across the dance floor on Nero Lucchesi’s arm, silk blue skirts swirling as she smiled her angelic smile.My father’s lips curved with pride. “Beautiful,” he said, loud enough for those around him to hear. “Graceful. She carries the DeCavalcante name as though it were made for her.”My throat burned. My lips parted, but all I managed was a whisper, thin and trembling: “T-that… that was supposed to be me.”Don Augustus turned his head slightly, his dark eyes sweeping me