Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“What about Harriet? Does she know?”
“She does. I got confirmation from Marina about half an hour ago. In fact, she called me and told me your fiancée demands to question these thugs herself.”
I grip the edge of the chair. “Alec—”
“Apparently, saying ‘no’ isn’t an option.” He shrugs, holding his hands out, but the twinkle in his eye says he’s enjoying this far too much. “And who am I, there mere twelfth Duke of Kilon, to refuse an order from my future queen?”
Annoyance shoots down my spine, and I clench my jaw. “You just want to meet her.”
He smirks. “That, too.”
“Alec—”
“For fuck’s sake, Finn. She’ll be safe here. We’re both here, and we aren’t going to be alone.” He spins the cigarette once more before picking up the box and slipping it back inside. “Besides, I’m pretty sure those guys won’t be making it here with all their bones intact, so don’t worry about it.”
I lean forwards and rub my hands over my face. I don’t want Hattie anywhere near this shit. I don’t want her to have to worry about it. I don’t even like that Alec allowed his little maid spy to tell her the truth.
With the technological capabilities at his hands, he should have been able to just cancel the shoot while pretending to be the person who booked it.
Then we could deal with this quietly.
It’s not that I don’t think she can handle it. I’m sure she can. She’s already made it perfectly clear that she’s been through shit I can’t even imagine, but that’s why I don’t want her to have to deal with this kind of stuff.
She doesn’t need to.
She shouldn’t need to.
I don’t want her to.
She shouldn’t have a target on her back already. It’s inevitable that she’ll become the target of ire and even death plots when she’s announced as my fiancée, but to already be in a position where she’s in danger…
Fuck.
“There’s more going on in that house than we know,” I say, staring towards the window. “For someone to be targeting her so overtly…”
Alec shrugs. “She’s the legitimate daughter. Jasmine is merely an adopted one, even if she is related to the Sinclairs by blood. She’s undoubtedly threatened by her, even if your engagement is still a state secret.”
So secret even the state doesn’t know about it.
The government only knows there is an engagement, but not to whom.
“But to actively seek to harm her? What are they trying to do to her? I get the impression Hattie already thinks her stepmother is responsible for her kidnapping all those years ago.”
“Wait.” Alec raises his hand, frowning. “How is that possible? And why would Rosalyn have a hand in that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to push her at the time. It’s not an easy subject to discuss. I’m also not sure she fully trusts me yet.”
“Well, she was kidnapped. Chances are, she’s used to doing things alone and not relying on anyone. She’s not going to begin trusting people overnight.”
“I know that, I just…” I rub my hand over my mouth.
I just, what? Want her to fall at my feet and let me save the day? Let me handle everything that plagues her? Let me swoop in like a knight in shining armour so she doesn’t have to lift a finger and risk dirtying her hands?
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
That’s exactly what I want.
But that’s not what she would want.
His phone rings and he holds it to the side of his head. “Speak.” There’s a pause, then he says, “We’ll be right there.” He taps the screen and gets up, shoving it back into his pocket. “Let’s go. There are three guys waiting for us.”
Three?
I don’t need to be a genius to know that Jasmine’s fingerprints are all over this. I don’t even need the traced IP address.
It was only days ago she was wishing Hattie dead, after all.
We take the stairs down to the next floor, and Alec locates the correct panel on the wall. I’ve been through this hidden doorway more times than I can count, and as we descend into the darkness, using the stone walls as a guide, I feel it.
That sharp spark of anger, so unlike anything I’ve felt before. It slithers through my body, flickering at my skin and twisting my stomach into a tight ball.
How fucking dare they? How fucking dare they even think about laying a hand on her?
Alec pushes open a door, and we step into the basement of Kilon Manor. Not the kind of place a Crown Prince would usually be seen—but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.
“Go,” Alec says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Three men. We saw them entering the studio with the correct passcode. Aaron hacked the booking records and double-checked, and it was definitely the right room. We subdued them and brought them here,” Preston says, then bows his head to me when I step out. “Your Royal Highness.”