Legacy of Lies Read online

  Legacy of Lies

  LEGACY OF LIES

  takes place ten years after

  THRONE OF LIES.

  To truly enjoy Tripp and Jolie’s epic love story, you should start at the beginning. If you haven’t read THRONE OF LIES, you may download it here.

  Copyright © 2018 Tara Leigh

  First Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. Please protect this art form by not pirating.

  Tara Leigh

  www.taraleighbooks.com

  Cover Design: Regina Wamba, Mae I Design

  Editing: Becca Hensley Mysoor, Evident Ink

  Karen McVino, Expressive Editing

  Formatting: Mesquite Business Services

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-7328010-3-5

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-7328010-2-8

  Excerpt from Rock King © 2018 by Tara Thompson. Reproduced with permission from Forever Romance.

  Dedication

  This book wouldn’t be here without my Beta Beauties!!!

  Amy, Becca, Cindy, Kelly, Lexi, Melissa, Sarah, Serena, Siobhan, & Tijuana—you inspire me to push harder and dig deeper to give my readers the story they deserve. I am beyond grateful for your insight and encouragement.

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank-you to, Jessica Alvarez of BookEnds Literary Agency. Your critiques and career guidance are invaluable!

  Becca of Evident Ink & Karen of Expressive Editing, you whipped this manuscript into shape & made Throne of Lies and Legacy of Lies so much stronger! Thank you!

  My Beta Beauties: Amy, Becca, Cindy, Kelly, Lexi, Melissa, Sarah, Serena, Siobhan, & Tijuana—thank you for your insight and encouragement! Each of you helped breathe life into Tripp and Jolie, and they are so much better for it.

  Regina Wamba of Mae I Design, thank you for this GORGEOUS cover!

  Melissa of Booksmacked & Devyn Jensen of Mesquite Business Services, I would be an unorganized mess without you two. Thank you for the million things you do for me. I am lucky to have you both in my life and on my team.

  Amy Halter of Obsessive Book Whore Blog, thank you for the fabulous trailer!

  Sarah Sentz of Musings of a Modern Belle - your “teasers and notes” are every bit as fabulous as you.

  Tijuana Turner of Book Twins Blog - you are way beyond “extra”.

  Cindy and Christy - thank you so much for taking the time to be a fresh set of eyes!!

  My readers—you are EVERYTHING!!! I love reading your reviews and value your honest feedback! And all those messages/posts/tweets/e-mails you send as you’re reading—they make my day! **hugs** In so many cases you have become friends. Thank you for letting me into your lives!!

  Thank you to all the amazing bloggers and author assistants who have become a virtual cheering section for me, and I hope that I do the same for you. You are the unsung heroes in this wonderful place called Romancelandia and I am so grateful for your support.

  There are so many authors who have been beyond generous with their time and expertise—if I named them all, I might fill as many pages as this book! However, Alessandra Torre, your invaluable website www.alessandratorreink.com is a must for every new author, and you have built a virtual cheering section via Facebook. AL Jackson, thank you for setting the bar when it comes to rock star romance. Sierra Simone, thank you for taking sexy to a whole other level. My In The Loop Group authors—love you ladies! To RWA and everyone I’ve met through this incredible organization.

  Lauren Layne and Anthony LeDonne of Last Word Designs, thank you for my gorgeous logo and website, www.taraleighbooks.com!

  Jessica Estep of Inkslinger PR—you rock! Thank you for your insight and hard work.

  Moments by Andrea, thank you for the fabulous head shot.

  To my family & friends—I adore you all . . . and I’m sorry for ignoring your calls when I’m writing!

  My neighbor Cindy, you are a wonderful friend to me and an absolute blessing to my kids. Moving next door to you was one of the smartest decisions Stephen and I ever made!

  Grandma, you left me nearly twenty years ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss you. For any smokers reading this—put the cigarette down. Think of the people in your life who will one day watch you struggle to breathe and, when you lose that battle, will miss you desperately.

  Thank you to my mom for never ripping all those “bodice-rippers” out of my hands as a teen/tween, and to my dad for showing me what it means to work hard. (Who needs weekends or vacations, anyway?)

  Stephen, thank you for being a wonderful husband and supporting my dreams. I love you. Logan, Chloe, and Pierce, thank you for being such great kids & genuinely considerate of my writing time. I am blessed to be your mother.

  Our lives are enriched by our sweet rescue puppy, Pixie. The wonderful organization that brought Pixie into our lives is Goofy Foot Dog Rescue, and if you would like to welcome a dog into your family or donate to their organization, please visit their website: www.goofyfootrescue.org.

  And if you would like to see more pictures of Pixie and get updates on new releases, sales, and behind the scenes snippets, please sign up for my newsletter at http://bit.ly/TaraLeighNwsltr .

  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

  Epilogue

  I. Rock King Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  Let’s Keep in Touch!

  Also by Tara Leigh

  About the Author

  1

  Tripp

  You know my name. Everyone does.

  Remington Montgomery.

  Fraud. Criminal. Inmate. Asshole.

  What you might not know is that that Remington Montgomery is a II.

  Lucky me, I’m a III.

  I go by Tripp.

  Before my father’s billion-dollar scam was exposed, the Montgomerys were Manhattan royalty. As the prodigal son, I’d been groomed from birth to assume the heavy mantle of my legacy. The right schools, the right friends, the right clothes. A trust fund filled with fuck you money. />
  Money. Power. Respect. Success.

  I thought I was entitled to all of it—just by virtue of my name.

  I was wrong. So wrong.

  I'd been conned just as badly as all those people he stole from.

  At nineteen, the silver spoon I’d been born with was ripped from my mouth. I learned, along with everyone else in the city, that my father was nothing more than a dime store con-artist in a five-thousand-dollar suit.

  I was heir to a throne built on lies, my crown forged from corruption.

  Stripped of everything I'd been raised to consider my birthright.

  Including my princess— who wasn’t mine after all.

  Since then, I’d been called an asshole plenty of times. Hacked enough government agencies to be called a criminal, too, not that I’ve ever left a trace behind.

  And if hiding my connection to a man who ranks only slightly lower than Madoff on the scumbag scale made me a fraud, so be it.

  But, inmate—no way.

  I’ve spent the past decade building my own fortune, my own way—exposing embezzlers, thieves, and the criminally incompetent.

  I’d finally decided to return to New York, although the reasons that had seemed so urgent when I was three thousand miles away felt trivial now.

  Redemption.

  Facing down the ghost of a man who was still very much alive.

  The first was elusive, at best. An intangible asset impossible to value.

  The second made no sense at all.

  “We’ll be landing shortly.” The pretty flight attendant bent low, her ample cleavage on display. “Anything I can do for you? Last chance . . .” She let her sentence trail off as she glanced suggestively at my crotch.

  Another time, maybe.

  I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

  She gave a disappointed huff and straightened, leaving me wondering if I should have taken her up on her offer. I was tense. Maybe the sight of her hair strewn across my lap, head bouncing between my thighs . . . But no. Not even a quick jaunt on Aer Lingus could take the edge off my long overdue homecoming.

  Peering through the window of the plane, I almost expected to see a gate around Manhattan, the elaborate network of bridges and tunnels guarded by an army of SEC and FBI agents, district attorneys and the lawyers heading up the class action lawsuit for my father's victims. Yes—victims, plural. There were hundreds of them, ranging from billionaires who barely noticed their missing millions, to retirees who lost their entire life savings and were now working at fast food restaurants or big box stores just to get by.

  But none of the people who had practically chased me out of the city with pitchforks were there. The urban island was completely undefended. Vulnerable.

  Mine for the taking.

  2

  Jolie

  Bright lights in front, daggers in back. Welcome to New York Fashion Week.

  The elaborate fish tank in the middle of the cavernous room was one loose screw away from sending undulating electric eels into a who’s-who of the international fashion scene.

  I’d walked over worse.

  Striding across the narrow platform arching over the tank, a cheerless pout pulled at my lips. The camera flashes were blinding, but didn’t quite conceal the sea of faces turned my way. There was one face in particular I looked for at every show, in every crowd.

  It was pointless, of course. He wouldn’t be here. Ever.

  I couldn’t help but imagine him though. Thick chestnut hair streaked with sunshine, eyes as dark and mysterious as thunderclouds. A mouth that talked dirty and kissed sweet. A body that . . .

  I caught hold of myself before the turn, a flush rising on my skin that had nothing to do with the heat of the lights. Just in time, too. I was trailed by the other models in the show, each of whom would rather see me fall into the churning waters below our feet than walk behind me.

  This walk was different though. This walk was my last.

  After ten years riding the roller coaster that was high-fashion modeling, I was getting off the ride.

  Before I puked in the bushes.

  Not that I was retiring—far from it. My plan was to set up a home base here in New York, continuing to work for my highest paying clients while pursuing my dream of launching my own company. At twenty-seven, I was practically over the hill in the modeling world. If my bookings dried up, I didn’t have a safety net.

  What I did have were responsibilities. And bills. Lots of bills. Rent for my new apartment. Private school tuition. The mortgage of my stepmother’s house in Connecticut.

  If I didn’t make the transition from model to successful entrepreneur . . .

  But I couldn’t think like that. I was borrowing Eminem’s motto—Success is my only motherfucking option.

  “Martini for your thoughts.”

  Standing in front of me, holding out a cocktail she’d taken from the tray of a passing waiter, Eva was a welcome sight.

  “I’m a model, I’m not supposed to have thoughts,” I snapped back, accepting the drink carefully and enveloping my old friend in a warm hug. “God, it’s good to see you. I was beginning to worry I’d never find you in this madhouse.” The after-party for Lucian West’s latest collection was being held at a former meat-packing factory turned trendy event space, but there were so many people here finding anyone in particular had been nearly impossible.

  Her huff of amusement breezed over my bare neck. “Sulking in a corner probably wasn’t helping.”

  My welcoming grin turned sheepish. “Probably not. How have you been?” I’d met Eva Daniels through Lucian. She easily could have walked the runway with me, but leaving her twins behind while she traveled all over the world hadn’t been a sacrifice she was willing to make.

  “Better, now that you’re in New York. If I have to spend one more afternoon kissing up to the Park Avenue Preschool moms, I am going to lose my ever-loving mind.”

  “We’ll do a girls night this week, I promise.” We clinked rims, a dozen delicately jeweled bracelets jangling on her arm.

  “Good.” She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “And I want to know why you’re really here.”

  “It’s not all that exciting, I swear. I’m trying to get my own jewelry line off the ground. I have an investor lined up, but living out of a suitcase isn’t exactly conducive to starting a business.” Familiar nerves twined their way around my ribs, squeezing the air from my lungs. I knew just how treacherous it could be to get involved with the wrong person. “I want to do it right.”

  “This investor . . . is he a boyfriend?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “Definitely not. He’s a friend of my stepmother’s who is probably just trying to impress her by throwing his money around.” Nina had said they went back years and that investing in small start-ups was something of a hobby for him. “Once I get settled, I’ll have him checked out.”

  “Do you need a name? The guy who investigated my nanny is amazing.”

  “Wait—you finally hired a nanny? I thought that was on your never-will-I-ever list.”

  Eva’s bottle green eyes lost some of their brightness. “I love being a mom. Parker and Madison are my world, but I need to have my own life, too. I hired the nanny because I’m seriously considering getting a real job.”

  “Motherhood is the hardest job there is,” I murmured sympathetically.

  I should know. It was the only job I’d ever quit.

  “It is. And believe me, I have a nanny cam in every room, just to be safe.”

  Holding her martini glass in one hand, she deftly unlocked her phone and swiped at the screen. “There, I sent you his info. The nanny thing was just a personal favor, by the way. Nash keeps this guy on retainer. He’s some kind of risk assessment guru.”

  New York might be a city of eight million, but in reality, it felt like a small town. Everyone knew everyone. A successful venture capitalist, Nash Knight had provided the capital for Lucian to launch a mass market line to co
mplement his high-fashion work. He was also the uncle of Eva’s twins. And a notorious playboy who had hit on me more than once.

  I felt a buzz in my purse. Regardless of our personal history, a recommendation from Nash was worth considering. “Thanks.”

  Eva pushed a hand through her hair, feathering it as she let go. “Of course, anything to keep you here. I know this place doesn’t exactly hold good memories for you.”

  That was the understatement of the century.