A Man of Power (The Kingmakers of Kensington Book 1)

  A MAN OF POWER

  The Kingmakers of Kensington Book One

  S.E. ROSE

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Stay Connected

  About the Author

  Also by S.E. Rose

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2022 S. E. Rose

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.seroseauthor.com

  Cover Model Photography: 6:12 Photography

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This story contains descriptions of adult relationships and derogatory language. If such things offend you, this book is not for you. The book is intended for mature readers. For more information on this book’s content, you can visit www.seroseauthor.com.

  Dedication

  To the strong and independent women who mentored me when I started my career. Each of you helped me to become the woman I am today.

  Prologue

  Sebastian

  10 Years Earlier…

  “I’m so fucking wasted!” Conner yells as he nearly collides with a tree, overcorrects, and begins to stumble into a bush before Aiden yanks him back up.

  “Shit, Aid. Been working out?” I ask as I laugh and spill some of the liquor from my flask. “Fuck.”

  I lick the clear liquid that is running down my hand.

  “It’s fucking creepy back here,” Aiden states as he looks around.

  We’ve decided to take the Rock Creek Park trail from the frat house back to our apartment. It’s the beginning of our junior year at one of the country’s most prestigious universities. We spent last semester living in the frat house but decided we wanted our own place. Of course, when you have rich mommies and daddies, you can get a pretty nice fucking apartment. So, we live farther from campus in a penthouse. The chicks fucking dig it. It’s a pussy magnet.

  I laugh at Aiden’s unease. He’s the brilliant one of our tripod. Conner is the muscle who keeps us safe. And I’m the cruise director. Together, we are unstoppable. We’ve been that way since the very beginning of our friendship freshman year.

  “What? It is. Did you hear about all those girls that have gone missing lately back on the park trails?” he asks.

  I shrug. I have. My female friends are leery of coming back here alone. I can’t blame them.

  I hear a branch crack and I look around, sobering up at the sound. Some birds squawk and fly overhead. The moonlight is dimmed by a cloud, but I can see their dark figures in the sky. Crows. The air suddenly feels heavy.

  “Did you hear that?” Aiden asks. Conner is about five steps ahead of us pretending to dance as he walks.

  “I don’t hear shit,” he says before spinning around and continuing to salsa.

  I hear another twig snap and then a groan. “What the fuck?” I murmur.

  “It’s probably just people having sex like last time,” Conner whispers, only he’s fucking drunk and his whisper is more like a yell.

  I take two steps forward and glare at him. He rolls his eyes and continues swaying. I don’t even want to know how much alcohol he’s had to make his giant frame that inebriated.

  I hear another moan, but not a moan of pleasure. Aiden stops and looks at me. I nod at him, telling him that I, too, hear it. He turns on a small flashlight key chain he has because his grandmother thinks he went to school in some crime-infested city; she’s not totally wrong.

  We look around as the light slowly follows the sound. And then we see it, a body part.

  Slowly, we start stepping forward. The body is revealed an inch at a time. A foot. A calf. A knee. A hip. A belly. A breast. A neck.

  It’s a young woman who looks to be our age. She’s naked and moaning. I look around trying to find an injury, but I don’t see one.

  Want-to-be doctor Aiden falls to his knees. “Are you OK?” he asks the girl.

  Her eyes are dilated and she’s looking around and whimpers when she tries to focus on us.

  “Fuck, call nine-one-one,” he says to me.

  I pull out my phone and make the call. The girl struggles to speak but it’s like she’s paralyzed or something.

  She’s awake but not responding as she should.

  Conner comes up behind us. “Oh, fuck,” he manages. He starts removing his flannel shirt because Conner wanted to look like a lumberjack tonight. Literally, that fuckface said he wanted to look like a lumberjack so the ladies would climb his wood. Asshat. But faced with a damsel in distress, he suddenly remembers his good manners. His shirt is quickly placed over the woman.

  I can hear sirens in the background.

  I hold the woman’s hand. “If you can hear me, you’re going to be OK. The police are on the way.”

  Aiden is meanwhile taking hold of her wrist and looking at his watch. “Her pulse is fast, but she’s breathing. She must have either taken something or been drugged.”

  Her eyes blink and we all look at her, but she still doesn’t speak. Tears stream down her face. Fuck. She looks a hot mess, and I only hope she wasn’t violated in any way. Thoughts of the little sister I lost only three years ago, play through my mind as I squeeze her hand.

  I see the red and blue lights of a police car.

  “Conner, go get them,” I say as I look up toward the flashing lights. He nods and takes off running. I look back down at the eyes that are very much alive but also look not awake like she’s sleepwalking. Kara used to sleepwalk.

  “It’s going to be OK,” I murmur.

  I hear Conner coming back and look over my shoulder to find two cops and two EMTs following him. We all step back as the medics start to do their job.

  “Who found her?” a cop asks.

  “We all did, sir,” I answer as I start to explain what happened. When we show him our college IDs, I see recognition on his face. He takes our statements and sends us on our way as the woman is loaded into an ambulance that has now pulled down the trail.

  “I hope she’s going to be OK,” Aiden says, running a hand through his hair.

  “There’s nothing more we can do,” I state. Conner and Aiden nod. Any happy, post-party vibes are long gone. We somberly walk home, each in our thoughts. We’ve had a lot of experiences together in the less than two years we’ve been friends, but I hope this is the only time we have to rescue someone.

  Chapter 1

  Sebastian

  Present Day

  This is the worst fucking idea that I’ve had this week. And that is saying something.

  I straighten my tie and stand as Harriet knocks and opens the door at the same time. I groan. If it was anyone b
ut her, I’d ream them out for entering before I responded. But not with Harriet. She runs this office. I know it, and she does, too.

  “She’s in the waiting room,” Harriet states dryly as she walks toward me and reaches out to my tie, adjusting it to her liking. She brushes some invisible lint off my arms as she lowers her hands and looks up at me with a nod of approval. “I still don’t know why you want to do the interview solo. At least let me sit in. I already know her. I can ask questions you might overlook.”

  I look down at the lady who runs my life. The same one who ran my father’s life before he was a senator. She’s not wrong, but for once, I want to do this by myself. I’ve had my guard up lately. I want all my staff cleared through me for the time being.

  “First, I would never overlook a question. We both know that. And second, I want to see her reactions without you present. It’s important that she can hold her own when speaking to me alone,” I point out as I walk back around and sit in my chair. My fingers grip the carved cherrywood of the armrests. It was my grandfather’s chair and one of my earliest memories was coming to this very building and climbing onto it, so I could pretend to be powerful, just like him.

  “I know, I know. I just…you have a lot going on and it doesn’t hurt to have me there.”

  I study her for a long moment. Harriet is getting up in age. I rack my brain as I try to remember how old she is…seventy, seventy-five? She’s been a fixture in congressional offices longer than I’ve been alive. She would have made an amazing congresswoman, but she never had the desire to run for office. Instead, she worked her way up as a staffer and then a chief of staff for my father, and now one for me. She’s a tiny wisp of a woman, but she can stare down most imposing politician without batting an eye. She’s made of steel, and if she could, she would spit fire. She’s also incredibly kind to those that deserve it. And her loyalty is probably her best asset and her biggest weakness.

  “Just, bring her in,” I demand. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes. I don’t have time to debate this.”

  “As you wish,” she replies as she walks to the door. “You do remember her name, don’t you?”

  I falter for a moment, trying to recall.

  She sighs. “I know she was just an intern, but for fuck’s sake, Bastian, she worked in your office for a whole goddamn year.”

  I give her a pointed look that says I don’t have time for this shit.

  “Alexis Martin, you ass. Her name is Alexis Martin. She just finished college a few months ago. She interned for us two years ago. She’s bright, and I like her, so don’t fuck it up,” Harriet says as she looks over her shoulder at me with a stare that would bring lesser men to their knees, but not me.

  “Show her in.” I motion to the doorway where Harriet stands. She nods and closes the door behind her.

  I try to remember this young woman. We’ve had so many interns over the past few years. I admit to not paying attention. I’ve seen too many of my colleagues fucking their interns, and it never ends well. It doesn’t help that I’m less than ten years older than most of them.

  Clearly, she must have been a great intern if my staff want me to hire her. I turn my chair and gaze out the window at the Capitol building. It was part good fortune and part knowing the right people that landed me this office with the amazing view. I steeple my fingers and contemplate how I’ll be handling my meeting this afternoon. Harriet’s knock brings me out of my thoughts.

  “Come in,” I answer as I swivel my chair. The door opens and in walks a young woman that could easily be mistaken for a model. She’s breathtaking. She’s taller than Harriet, but as I stand to greet her, I notice even in those ridiculously sexy heels she’s still a few inches shorter than me. She has long mahogany hair that has a slight wave to it. Her eyes seem to defy logic. They aren’t one color, instead the inner part of the iris is a caramel brown which blends into a vivid aquamarine blue with a dark gray rim around the edge. Had I even looked at her when she interned here? I would never forget a set of eyes like that.

  “Congressman, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me,” she says, her voice slightly raspier and deeper than I would have expected. Fuck, why does even her voice have to be sexy?

  “Sure,” I say as I shake her hand. Her fingers are long and elegant. My mother would comment that she had pianist hands if she were here.

  “Please, have a seat,” I add, motioning to the chair in front of my desk.

  She takes the seat and looks at me. Unlike many young people, she doesn’t look away as I stare intently at her. She’s either arrogant as fuck or curious. I’m hoping it’s the latter.

  “You probably don’t recognize me,” she starts. When I don’t immediately answer, she continues. “I had shorter blonde hair, and I’m pretty sure I almost always wore my glasses because I ran out of contacts and couldn’t get home to get more until after spring semester.” She blushes slightly. I don’t bother telling her that even if her hair had been bright blue, I probably wouldn’t have noticed her because she was a peon, a mere worker bee in my office. She looks past me at my view.

  I look back toward my window. “I never get tired of it,” I admit as my gaze follows hers to the historic building through the window.

  “How could you? It’s a great view. To be able to see that every day is…well, you’re lucky.”

  I turn back to her and watch her look of awe as she gazes upon the Capitol. Shit, have I misread her? I seldom misread people, but maybe she’s one of those idealistic young interns who thinks she can come in here and change the world. I don’t need another one of those. I need someone who is competent, who can research the hell out of a topic for me, and who writes on-point summaries that tell me everything I need to know.

  “What do you see when you look out my window?” I ask as I lean back in my chair.

  She looks past me again. “History. Over two hundred years of American history. Did you know that the water used to come all the way up the Capitol building? When it was just the north wing, it housed Congress, the Supreme Court, the Library of Congress, and even the local courts.” She leans in and grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Rumor has it that some of the congressmen used to go skinny-dipping right outside the building at night.”

  Her comment is so unexpected, I laugh on reflex. “Is that so?”

  Her face pinkens again, and she nods. She leans back in her chair and looks at me with those mesmerizing eyes. “But that’s not all I see.”

  OK. Now, I’m intrigued. I motion for her to go on.

  “Power. I see power everywhere.”

  Well, maybe there is more to Ms. Martin than I realized.

  “Go on.”

  “I know what you need. I’ve seen your office at work. I know the staff. I know how things function. You can review my resume if you like”—she pulls out a piece of paper and sets it on my desk not looking away from me—“but what it won’t tell you is that I excel at research, writing, and figuring out people. I know for a fact that I’m the only former intern of yours that has applied for this position. I’m not here to win you over. I don’t need accolades for my achievements. I just want to be part of this.” She motions around us. “As ugly and brutal as things…and people…can be here, there’s a sort of chaotic beauty to it all. I thrive on that chaotic beauty.”

  I look down at her resume. She’s smart. She double-majored in political science and communications at a local university. She’s originally from the Midwest. And Harriet loves her.

  “Harriet speaks highly of you,” I state, deciding not to beat around the bush because why the fuck should I?

  She shrugs. “She knows me. I mean, I wouldn’t have even gotten the internship if it wasn’t for her.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “My college roommate grew up next door to her. She introduced us at a neighborhood party when we were visiting her parents for the weekend. Harriet mentioned that she needed an intern. I mentioned I wanted to intern. And…well
, you can put the rest of it together.”

  “You’re friends with Debbie and Mike’s kid?” I ask.

  I can see the look of surprise on her face. I’m guessing she is both surprised that I even know who Harriet’s neighbors are, and also that I took the time to learn their names. But what she doesn’t know is that learning and remembering names and faces has been ground into me since birth, which makes the fact that I couldn’t remember her even more frustrating.

  “Y-yes,” she stammers. “Erin.”

  I nod. “I didn’t realize Erin was all grown up.” I pause and look back at her resume. “I take it that the fact you are attending law school at night is another factor in your desire to work here?”

  She frowns. “No, not really. Although, the law school is close by, so I could work until class each evening.”

  “Law school is intense. Do you really think you can handle this job and school?”

  Her glare more than answers my question. “Yes. I double-majored, worked part-time, and volunteered in college. So, maintaining a day job while I take a few night classes shouldn’t be a huge reach for me.”

  She’s defensive. I wonder why. Does she think I’m insulting her intelligence?

  “I had to ask. I need someone who can be here when I need them here. Days, nights, weekends.” I’m about to dismiss her when she opens her mouth to speak.

  “What you need is a staffer who can do their job well and make you look good. I am capable of both,” she states, her eyes narrowing on mine.