Royal Secrets (33 page)

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Authors: Traci Hunter Abramson

Tags: #Royal Target, #lds, #LDS suspense, #hagardy, #deseret book, #mormon, #Betsy Brannon Green, #Fiction, #Romance, #secret, #covenant, #adventure, #clean, #Contemporary Romance, #Jennie Hansen, #Saint Squad

BOOK: Royal Secrets
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“Thanks.” Alora turned toward the palace once more, her stomach fluttering with an odd sensation that she recognized as hope. For the moment and for as long as it lasted, her family felt complete again. Before her doubts could wash away that feeling, she focused on preparing for her next outing with the prince, a prince she now thought of as her own.

* * *

Stefano watched Alora approach, her simple blue dress falling nearly to her ankles. Her dark hair was tied back at the base of her neck and ran down her back in a sleek ponytail. Silver earrings carved in the shape of seashells were clipped onto her ears, but her wrists and neck were bare. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded and motioned down to her dress. “Am I dressed okay?”

“You look perfect.” He took her hand and leaned down for a kiss. “Our car is waiting outside. My father left a few minutes ago. He said he had a few fires to put out before the session begins.”

Alora nodded, waiting until they were settled in the backseat of a limousine before she asked, “Is everything okay?”

He started to brush his concerns aside, but instead he pushed the button to raise the privacy window between them and their driver. “There’s talk that Bernardo Campesi, the president of the council, is going to try to enact a law today. The new law would prohibit anyone from ruling Meridia unless they are a member of the Meridian Church.”

“That doesn’t seem right.” Alora shifted so she was facing him more fully. “If your citizens can choose their religion, surely the monarchy should have the same privilege.”

“I don’t disagree, but there are those who are trying to strengthen the ties between the Meridian Church and the government. We believe the archbishop himself is behind this legislation.”

“What does he hope to gain by this?” Alora asked. A touch of regret reflected in her eyes. “You still belong to the Meridian Church. It’s your son who will rule someday.”

Stefano saw the opening she had given him to confide in her, but he wasn’t ready for the changes the truth would surely bring. “The future is never certain. Some believe my car accident was really an attempt on my life. It’s possible that somebody was trying to get rid of me and then use our secrets to oust my family from power. If the press got wind of my uncle’s activities and the fact that my cousin isn’t of royal blood, our country could find itself in turmoil.”

“I still don’t understand how a bunch of bad press could possibly topple a monarchy that has been in power for centuries. Even if someone had managed to get to you and all of these skeletons got out at the same time, your father and his council would still be able to rule.”

Stefano recognized the truth of her statement, considering for a moment what would happen if his family was forced from power. Laws were in place to allow the ruling council to take control of the government so the country and their military would remain intact.

The limo pulled to a stop, and a moment later their driver opened the door for them. Guards shifted into place as they exited the vehicle and moved into the council building. Even as they headed for the conference room where he expected to find his father, Alora’s words continued to play over in Stefano’s mind.

She was right. If something happened to his family, the ruling council would be able to step in and take over the government. A large majority of the council members had supported both his father’s decision to allow the United States to build their naval base as well as his resolution to deny offshore drilling.

Alora tugged on his arm and nodded in the direction of a dark-haired man who was walking toward the stairwell. “Do you know that man?”

Stefano shook his head as the man looked over at Alora. “I’ve never seen him before. Why?”

“This is the second time I’ve seen him recently. He looks at me like he knows me, but I don’t know him.”

Stefano started to brush it off, certain that he had probably seen her in the newspaper. Then the man glanced their way again, and something in his eyes sent a ripple of uneasiness through him. “Where else have you seen him?”

“At the naval base.” Awareness flashed in her eyes. “Stefano, I saw him right before I came here. Right before the bombing.” The concern visible on her face heightened. “You don’t think he could . . .”

“The council chambers.” It all became clear in that instant. “If a bomb went off during today’s legislative session, it could take out the entire government.”

“You don’t really think someone would be able to plant a bomb here, do you?” Alora asked, her eyes wide.

“I know someone has been sitting on damaging information about my family, and it’s never made sense why they haven’t already used it against us.” Stefano’s words came out in a rush. “The only explanation is that they were waiting for something.”

“And you think they were waiting for today.”

Stefano nodded. “I want you to wait here. I’m going to go see who that guy is.” He motioned to one of his guards. “Stay here with her.”

Then Stefano headed for the stairwell with his other guard following closely behind him. Together the two men disappeared through the stairwell door.

Chapter 43

A knot of tension formed at the base of her neck as Alora watched Stefano leave the reception area of the council building. A familiar helplessness flooded through her as she considered what could happen if Stefano was right. This building and everyone in it could be reduced to a pile of rubble in an instant. She wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

If the man Stefano was following really was the bomber, then they were safe as long as he was still in the building. She didn’t know if they were both being paranoid or if their instincts were right. Either way, she wasn’t going to stand by and watch from the sidelines. She took two steps toward the stairwell before the guard reached for her arm.

“Signora, the prince asked you to wait here,” he reminded her.

“I just want to make sure everything is okay.” Alora pulled free of his grasp and continued forward. “You’re welcome to come with me.”

“I think it would be best if you stay here in the lobby.”

Alora shook her head, the tension in her neck spreading. Her pace quickened as she crossed the marble floor, the guard following her. She pulled open the stairwell door to reveal two sets of stairs, a narrow set of stairs leading to the basement level and another wide staircase leading upstairs. The air was warm and stale on the landing, the faint scent of cigarette smoke and disinfectant hanging in the air.

She took a step toward the wide staircase and hesitated. If someone really was planting a bomb, they would likely go for the basement, not the upstairs.

She stood silently for a moment, listening for footsteps, and was surprised she didn’t hear any—nor did she hear any voices. Uneasy, she started down the stairs. She sensed movement beneath her, followed by an odd muffled popping sound.

“Signora,” the guard began, but Alora held up a hand to silence him.

They reached the lower landing, Alora squinting as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Then she saw a body sprawled near a doorway on the far side of the room. She rushed forward and crouched down beside the guard who had accompanied Stefano into the stairwell. Blood seeped through his shirt, and Alora quickly checked for a pulse.

“He’s still alive. Give me your jacket.”

Her guard stripped off his jacket and handed it to her. Alora pressed it to the wound. “Now go get some help,” Alora ordered him. She went with instinct and added, “And evacuate the building.”

“Evacuate?”

“Do it.” Alora’s tone was quiet but held authority.

“Yes, signora.” He turned and rushed back up the stairs.

The wounded man stirred. “The prince,” he said weakly. “He has the prince.”

Alora’s breath caught, and she fought for calm. “Stay still. Help is coming.”

As she started to stand, she glimpsed the weapon holstered at his waistband. She pulled the weapon free as the guard nodded weakly in approval. She didn’t have time to decide whether to move forward or wait for help before she heard movement in the next room.

* * *

King Eduard sat at the head of the conference room table and stared down the senior members of the ruling council. Two of the seven men sitting at the table were behind the new legislation regarding a religious requirement for any future king, and at least one more appeared to be wavering.

“This is completely unacceptable,” Eduard said, determined to win this fight. “You are saying that our citizens can have religious freedom but the king cannot. Surely you see how inequitable this is.”

“Your Majesty, I understand how conflicted you must feel regarding Prince Garrett’s decision,” Bernardo Campesi began.

Eduard interrupted before he could continue. “Both of my sons are perfectly capable of ruling this country—and ruling well. Your job is to make sure
no one
is allowed to undermine the monarchy.”

Shouts sounded in the hallway, followed by pounding footsteps. Before Eduard could respond, the fire alarm sounded.

“A fire?” Eduard considered the recent security concerns, immediately wondering if this was a trap, some kind of scheme to get him and Stefano out into the open.

The door burst open, and a guard rushed in. “We must evacuate immediately.”

“Are you sure the fire is real?”

“It isn’t a fire, Your Majesty. We believe there is a bomb.” The guard motioned to the door and looked at the other men in the room. “This way. The side entrance has been secured for your safety.”

Eduard let the guard lead him out of the conference room and into the hall. He glanced toward the lobby, where another guard was directing people out the front doors while keeping the hallway clear for him to make his escape safely. Guards’ barked orders echoed toward him, and he could feel the panicked energy vibrating through the air.

Voices melded together in a dull roar, the volume increasing as he made his way to the side door.

“Where are Stefano and Alora?” Eduard asked the guard who was currently gripping his arm. “Have they already made it out?”

“I’m not sure, sir. It was one of Prince Stefano’s guards who alerted us to the problem.”

“Find out where he is,” Eduard demanded, his stomach clutching with worry. “Find my son.”

* * *

Alora turned slowly. Her heart froze in her chest when she saw the glint of metal pressed to Stefano’s head. Fear filled his eyes—fear for her, fear for himself. Yet she could also see Stefano’s steely determination.

“Stay where you are, madame.” The familiar man spoke in French, but Alora barely registered that detail. Her entire focus was on Stefano and on the gun pressed to his right temple. The man standing behind him was an inch or two shorter than Stefano, his left arm gripping Stefano around the throat.

“Let her leave,” Stefano managed to say, his eyes dark and focused on Alora. “You don’t need her.”

“Who are you?” Alora asked before he could respond. She said the words first in Italian, and then repeated them again in French. “
Qui êtes-vous
?”

He laughed now, his laughter hard and brittle and proud. “You don’t know?”

“Why should I?” Alora studied the face, a dozen thoughts whirling through her mind, including the fact that she couldn’t recall seeing him before that day in Bellamo. “And how do you know me?”

“I am Ambrose,” he said haughtily. His eyebrows lifted arrogantly as he added, “I saved your life one Christmas Eve.”

Her world froze. “What?”

He cocked his head slightly to one side and looked almost apologetic when he said, “I have a soft spot for children.”

Her right hand lifted, the weapon cold in her hand as she trained it on the man holding Stefano.

“Now, you don’t want to do anything foolish.”

“You killed my family?”

“I saved your life.” He spoke brashly. “Someone else might have waited for you and your sons to get home before detonating the bombs.”

She straightened her arms and took aim. Only Ambrose’s head was visible behind Stefano. Even with all her CIA training and the hours of shooting practice, she couldn’t be sure she could take the shot. She knew how to kill in theory, but she had never done so in reality. “Let Stefano go, and I’ll return the favor.”

Ambrose laughed again. “You’ll return the favor? I don’t think so.”

Her voice was like steel. “Last chance.”

“No, madame. This is your last chance.” The first hint of doubt crept into his eyes when Alora released the safety, her eyes remaining steadily on his. Then Stefano’s arm shifted ever so slightly, and Alora felt an uncomfortable sense of anticipation. “Put down the—”

Stefano’s elbow plowed into Ambrose’s stomach, and Stefano leaned to the left. A split second later, Alora squeezed the trigger. Ambrose’s head jerked back before he dropped to the floor, a spray of blood misting Stefano’s face and clothes.

Alora lowered the gun, and immediately, her body began to shake.

Stefano didn’t look at the dead man behind him. He reached for Alora and pulled her close. “It’s okay.” Her arms came up to encircle his waist. “You did it. Everything is okay now.”

She drew a jagged breath, fighting back the tears that threatened. Her body still trembled, and she could feel that Stefano wasn’t much steadier than she was. She heard movement in the other room, and a moment later a guard stepped through the doorway.

“Your Highness, are you okay?”

Stefano nodded and then spoke to Alora. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“What about the bomb?” Alora motioned in Ambrose’s direction.

“He was planting it on the underside of the gas line when we walked in on him.” Stefano motioned across the room. “That’s how my guard was shot. When he heard you coming down the stairs, he grabbed me.”

Alora looked up at the guard. “Call in the bomb squad anyway, just to be safe.”

He looked at Stefano. When Stefano gave a subtle nod, he pulled out a phone and made the call.

“Come on.” Stefano shifted, keeping an arm firmly around her waist. “I want to get you back to the palace.”

Chapter 44

Stefano stripped off the bloody clothes the moment he stepped into his private quarters. He balled them up and dropped them into the trash can. Then he stepped into the shower to erase the evidence that he had nearly died less than an hour before. If only he could erase the memory of Alora standing in front of him holding that gun, if he could forget the look on her face when she learned that the man threatening him had been responsible for destroying most of her family.

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