Back The Rite Trilogy: A Sovereign Sons Novel
Chapters (104)
  1. Cover
  2. His Rule
  3. About This Book
  4. Mercedes
  5. Judge
  6. Judge
  7. Mercedes
  8. Mercedes
  9. Judge
  10. Judge
  11. Mercedes
  12. Judge
  13. Judge
  14. Mercedes
  15. Mercedes
  16. Judge
  17. Judge
  18. Judge
  19. Mercedes
  20. Mercedes
  21. Judge
  22. Judge
  23. Mercedes
  24. Mercedes
  25. Judge
  26. Judge
  27. Judge
  28. Mercedes
  29. Mercedes
  30. Judge
  31. Judge
  32. Mercedes
  33. Mercedes
  34. Judge
  35. Judge
  36. Judge
  37. Mercedes
  38. Her Rebellion
  39. About This Book
  40. Judge
  41. Mercedes
  42. Judge
  43. Judge
  44. Mercedes
  45. Mercedes
  46. Judge
  47. Mercedes
  48. Judge
  49. Judge
  50. Mercedes
  51. Mercedes
  52. Judge
  53. Judge
  54. Mercedes
  55. Mercedes
  56. Judge
  57. Judge
  58. Mercedes
  59. Mercedes
  60. Judge
  61. Judge
  62. Mercedes
  63. Judge
  64. Mercedes
  65. Judge
  66. Judge
  67. Their Reign
  68. About This Book
  69. Judge
  70. Mercedes
  71. Mercedes
  72. Judge
  73. Judge
  74. Judge
  75. Mercedes
  76. Mercedes
  77. Judge
  78. Judge
  79. Mercedes
  80. Judge
  81. Judge
  82. Mercedes
  83. Mercedes
  84. Judge
  85. Judge
  86. Judge
  87. Mercedes
  88. Mercedes
  89. Judge
  90. Santiago
  91. Judge
  92. Judge
  93. Mercedes
  94. Mercedes
  95. Judge
  96. Judge
  97. Judge
  98. Epilogue
  99. What to read next
  100. Thank you
  101. Also by A. Zavarelli
  102. Also by Natasha Knight
  103. About Natasha Knight
  104. About A. Zavarelli

“It’s nothing.” In her bedroom, I see the tray of food Miriam must have returned. Still uneaten for the most part. Some of the bread has been picked at. It’ll grow mold soon. “Your breakfast is here, Mercedes,” I tell her as I reach the door to exit her room.

She’s right behind me. “Judge?” Her fingers wrap around my bicep just as I pull the door open. “What the…?” She touches the spot. “There’s a scar under there. What is this?”

I turn to face her. “The past. Get dressed, eat your breakfast, and think about why you’re here or you’ll be spending another day locked in this room.”

She searches my face, hers unreadable. “Who did that to you?”

Is she taunting me? Using my own words to play with me? “Go eat your breakfast. Now.”

“I’m not eating that. Tell me who did it? And why you’d hide it under a tattoo. Or can you ask me, but I can’t ask you? Like you can touch me, but I can’t touch you.”

“You will learn to do exactly as I say.”

“Fuck I will. You forget who you’re dealing with. I’m not some courtesan working the Cat House. I’m Mercedes De La Rosa. You don’t simply get to dismiss me.”

“Is that so?”

I turn to her and close the door. There’s a finality that comes with that sound. A shifting in the air, a weight to it.

I peel her hand off my arm and walk her backward to the wall, setting my hand against it and taking in the difference in size between us. I lean in close and scan her eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her mouth, noting the subtle signs of arousal. Both of her hands come up to grip the towel tight.

“You don’t want me to dismiss you?”

Her pulse thrums at her neck.

“Alright. You want my attention? You have it. Now drop the towel.”

She swallows audibly but doesn’t obey.

“Drop it. Now.”

Slowly, she does it, letting it fall to the floor and baring herself to me. I look down at her breasts and flat stomach. Then the slit of her sex. I return my gaze to hers.

“You’re very beautiful. But you already know that, don’t you?”

She bites her lip.

“And perhaps we’re both forgetting the reason you’re here.”

“Judge—”

“Turn around and put your hands against the wall.”