Milton: Worship
A Club XXX Novel: Book Seven
Lydia Goodfellow
Also by Lydia Goodfellow
Club XXX
Worship
Reign
Worship
Worship By Lydia Goodfellow
Copyright © 2020 by Lydia Goodfellow
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
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.
Cover Design and Interior Formatting by Charity Chimni
Proofreading by Charity Chimni
Trigger Warning
Please keep in mind that this story includes dark, graphic and explicit content matter that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18—or for readers who are uncomfortable with the following subject matter: explicit sex, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of child abuse, graphic depictions of violence, and mentions of self-harm.
Acknowledgments
To Rob, thank you for putting up with my craziness and for telling me to go for it when I thought I wasn’t good enough. For being there when my days were dark. I love you.
My babies, Aiden, Ryan, and Aria, I love you so much it hurts. This is all for you.
My fellow Irish woman, Keeva. Who would I be without you? Clearly running naked through the hills of Ireland. Thank you for believing in me, for being my friend, and keeping me sane all these years. I love you and can’t wait until you share your writing with the world.
Nikki, my fellow dark writer who I love dearly, I simply couldn’t imagine doing this without you. You’ve held my hand through this entire process and I couldn’t be more grateful for all you’ve done. I can’t wait to create more from this twisted world we’ve created.
Charity, you’re like my fairy Godmother. You’ve come from nowhere, banished my anxiety and made anything I need happen. It really is like you’re magic. Thank you.
To mum, dad and Ollie, I DID IT!!!!
Special shoutouts to my amazing aunt Janita, my best friend, Steph and wife Lucy. Life without you in it wouldn’t be life at all. I love you, miss you, and so grateful to have you in my life.
To the rest of my family and wonderful friends, thank you so much for all the support. While I’m nervous about you reading this, let’s just take a minute and admit we’re all insane too, okay?
My readers, I hope you enjoy the first of many books to come. Dark souls unite!
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
About the Author
Also by Lydia Goodfellow
Chapter One
Fair Haven City. Hell on Earth. A maggot-infested shell of depravity and a jungle of tall, cutthroat buildings shaded in black. As I breathe in, a phantom stench of fumes lingers beneath my nose, despite being in a room fragrant with flowers. As if the bitterness lacing my tongue and grit clinging to my skin will never erase from the days I lived and breathed the slums of it.
“Fair Haven. A place where no one sleeps. Not even the dead,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
But I do have a listener, and she moves behind me, emitting a breath loud enough to let me know she disagrees. “What do you mean by that?”
Allowing a few seconds of silence to linger, I finally face her. Sat on a high-backed chair, Dr. Ashley Rogue holds a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other. As she watches me, I know she already has me pegged as some spoiled teenage bitch begging for attention. Dr. Rogue is new here—came from Harvard a few months back, believing she can make a difference. Something they all believe at first. That is until they realize that’s not how the world works. It’s not how Fair Haven works. Black eventually seeps in and rots, and Ashley Rogue is already decaying.
“You will understand one day.” It’s a vague reply, and I’m aware she hates it. When I talk in riddles and never give a straight answer. Not anymore. Like clockwork, her forehead creases, and I know I’ve gotten to her.
Moving away from the window, I sit on the stereotypical couch, pulling my knees to my chest. I stare at her, and all she can do is look back.
When her gaze eventually averts back to her notes, my eyes roll. She can never look for long. As if she can’t bear to see the truth screaming in my eyes. I am easier than most girls here are to read, knowing the visible scars on my skin paint a grisly picture of the life I’ve come from. Something that would make her platinum straight hair turn to frizz.
Instead, she writes something new. A lie. Whatever. I no longer care. Leaning my head back against the cushion, I look at a painting on the wall, something I always do whenever I’m here. It’s supposed to be a bright, sunny piece of a young girl in a pretty yellow dress swinging from a tree. But the strokes of acrylic mar into something else. “Are you looking forward to staying with your mother—”
“Gabriella.” I cut in sharply. “It’s Gabriella.”
Her professional mask slips, and I know it’s because she thinks I’m disrespectful for calling my mother by her name. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that she’s taken it personally. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it seems my dearest mother has already gotten to Dr. Rogue.
After all, Gabriella’s most extraordinary power is corruption.
“May I ask why you call your mother by her first name?” I don’t reply, and her eye twitches with annoyance. “She’s looking forward to seeing
