A Nordic King Read Online Karina Halle

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Drama, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
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But the truth is, Aurora, this living goddess in my home, is making me weak, and for the first time ever, I have something to lose.

Her.

I can’t lose her.

And I can’t keep her.

I don’t know what to do.

“Aksel,” Stella says gently, putting her hand over mine. “You know it’s okay for you to move on.”

I eye her sharply. “What do you mean?”

She levels me with a disbelieving look over her coffee. “Come on. You know what I’m talking about. It’s been two years since Helena and…”

I shake my head. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“I’m your sister.”

“I know you are. But there’s nothing to even say.”

She frowns, and in that moment looks so much like my mother that I feel yet another pang of guilt for not going to see her recently. “I have a hard time believing that. Look, I know what you and Helena had in the public eye was not what you had in private.”

My heart lurches. Our loveless marriage was something I’ve strived to cover up, no matter the cost.

You’re so good at covering things up, I tell myself.

I’ve been silent for a few seconds so I finally manage to say, “What makes you say that?”

“You think I don’t know what a loveless marriage looks like?” she says. “Come on, Aksel. My divorce was just finalized. I know that Egil was only interested in my money and status, just as I know Helena was only interested in yours. She wanted that throne and she got it.”

I have trouble swallowing, my heart wrapped in layers and layers of hardened guilt. “She did a lot of good.”

“I know. Everyone knows. You can still do a lot of good for the world and generally be a good person all while doing the wrong things. People aren’t just black and white. We’re not even grey. We’re all the colors, mixed into one muddy mess. Maybe Helena just wanted to be a queen so she could make a difference in the world with her charities. That’s a noble cause but it doesn’t erase the fact that she was cheating on you.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “How did you know that?” My words come out ragged.

Her eyes grow soft. “Because I saw her and Nicklas once when they thought I wasn’t there. If they were that sloppy around me, they’d be that way around you. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t assume you already knew.”

She’s right. They were sloppy. It’s like Helena wanted me to know, knowing full well that I’d never divorce her. The thing is, she was right. I wouldn’t have divorced her—that’s not why I confronted them in Madeira. I just wanted the charade to be over. I needed to say my piece.

And I said it. It was the last thing Helena heard.

“Why on earth did you keep Nicklas working for you?” she whispers. We’re in the dining room. Everyone else is outside taking part in a snowball fight that Aurora orchestrated.

“It’s complicated,” I tell her.

“It wasn’t your fault that Helena died.”

I give her a wry smile. “As much as I love it when you visit, I don’t like talk of death with my morning coffee.”

“Fine.” She sighs, annoyed with how obtuse I’m being. “Shut me out. I’m used to it. But don’t do the same with her.”

“Her?”

“Aurora.”

“My nanny?”

“Yes. The nanny you bought a priceless heirloom for. Stop pretending she’s just your nanny. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before.”

I get up abruptly, the scrape of my chair echoing in the room. “You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Stella. You’ve always done that, since you were little. Your imagination gets the best of you. She’s just a nanny. End of story.”

“She isn’t,” she says, staring up at me, pressing her fingers into the table. “And if you don’t figure out your shit, you’re going to lose her one way or another.”

The thought of that, hearing those words, is another punch to the gut, this one more subtle, like the cool slip of a sharpened knife right into the spine. “There’s nothing there,” I tell her gruffly. “We have a professional relationship, that’s it, and we both know she’s only here for a year contract.”

“You should tell her,” she says, and it’s like she doesn’t even hear me. “She might just feel the same way.”

I don’t let her words in. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Even if she thinks she sees something between us, she of all people should know that I can never ever act on it. Helena was a saint, loved around the world. For me to start up with my children’s nanny would be a scandal neither I or this family would ever live down. I could never do that to them. I could never let what I feel for her become anything at all.


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