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Authors: Amelia Autin

BOOK: King's Ransom
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He shook that divergent thought off. “No, Juliana, I merely suggested what the king needed to do, and he did it. All of it. But I knew. Every step of the way, I knew.”

He smiled a cold, cruel smile. “I thought the money was a nice touch,” he said softly, menacingly. “And the message. That was the one thing you could not forgive, could you? It drove you away from Andre as it was intended to do.”

She closed her eyes briefly as guilt washed through her, remembering how very nearly Niko had succeeded in separating her from Andre...permanently. Then she opened her eyes as Niko continued.

“But I had to be sure you would stay away. I could not let you marry Andre and give him heirs, heirs that would supplant Zax and me in the line of succession. So I had to make sure Andre would not pursue you when you did not return to Zakhar as he expected.”

Even though she'd already been cold with terror, a chill ran through her as she grasped his meaning. “It was you? You were behind that lying story in the press?”

He laughed once more, and this time Juliana heard the insanity he'd kept hidden all this time. “Brilliant, was it not? I bribed that man to lie about being your lover. And I confirmed it. Confidentially, of course, but I knew I was fairly safe in doing so. The press shield laws in your country meant the reporter would keep his sources confidential. Zakhar's laws are different, but...” He shrugged.

The barrel of the gun moved once more, until it was pointing at Juliana's heart. “
That
is how I made Andre bleed,” he gloated. “The only thing that would have made it more perfect was if I had been the man. My revenge would have been complete. But even without that it was bad enough for him. His precious Juliana sleeping with another man, taking a lover other than him. What a blow that was to his heart. And to his ego. He suffered,” Niko said, taking a perverse pleasure in the fact. “Oh, how he suffered.”

The insane light in his eyes faded for a moment. “I almost overplayed my hand there,” he said thoughtfully. “It could have killed Andre's love for you, made him more amenable to his father's constant pressure to marry European royalty and beget heirs. But the temptation to make him bleed was too great to resist.” Then he smiled again, and Juliana couldn't prevent the shiver that coursed through her. “But I was counting on the curse of the Marianescus. And I was right.”

“Not a curse, Niko,” said a stern voice from the other side of the room. “It is our greatest strength.”

Niko jerked as if he'd been shot. He swung around to face Andre, who'd stepped out from behind the tapestry covering the secret passageway between his bedroom and Juliana's, and for a second the gun wasn't pointing at Juliana. But before she could escape Niko grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tight against his body, the gun pressed against her temple.

“Not one step closer,” he warned.

“Or what?” Andre demanded. “Or you will shoot her?” He shook his head. “You will shoot her anyway. That was your intention the minute you walked into this room with a gun.” He took a step toward them, then another.

Niko turned the pistol so it was facing Andre, and Juliana knew this was what Andre had intended, to get the gun away from her head by making himself the target instead. But seeing him in danger didn't make it any easier for her. And besides, Niko was still holding her captive.

“I will shoot you,” Niko threatened. “Then her.”

Andre shook his head again. “I think not. If you shoot me, you will never inherit the throne. And
that
is what this has all been about. You were very clever to try to throw suspicion on your brother—as my heir he had the best motive. But that will not work this time. Zax is already in custody.”

“I do not believe you.”

Andre smiled coldly. “Damon and Lukas will swear to it. So if I die here you will not escape.” He paused a second. “You have tried three times to kill me, yes? Not just the helicopter, but the assassination attempts—supposedly by traditionalists like Zax—that was your doing.”

The sudden stiffening in Niko's body betrayed him, and Andre nodded with certainty. “That was your plan all along. To kill me and have Zax blamed for it. You would have made sure there was evidence pointing to him, evidence that he had arranged my murder to look like an accident or a politically motivated assassination. Just as you tried to have Juliana killed and make it appear to be an accident—an accident that pointed to your brother as the only one with a motive. But you failed all across the board. You failed to kill me, just as you failed to kill Juliana.”

“I did not fail!”

“Do not lie to yourself. You failed.” Andre's assertion seemed to be deliberate provocation. “Juliana is still alive.” He took another step forward. “And so am I.” He shook his head a third time. “No, Niko, you will not shoot me. No matter what, you cannot afford to show your hand in my death.”

“But you will be dead,” Niko grated, and Juliana wondered how it was no one had ever heard the insanity in his voice before. “It would almost be worth it.”

“Yes, I will be dead,” Andre agreed, taking another step. “And your brother will sit on the throne in my place, not you. You will not even be his heir, because you will be dead, too, in the most gruesome way imaginable. Zakhar's laws have not moved with the times, not where high treason is concerned. You should know. You have blocked me on the Privy Council every time I have attempted to change that law. Do not forget,” he said softly, “regicide—even attempted regicide—is high treason.”

The gun wavered in Niko's hand, and Juliana wondered what Andre meant. She didn't have long to wait for an explanation. “Hanged. Drawn. Quartered.” Andre's voice was cold and calm, sounding almost disinterested. “Not a pretty prospect, is it. Disemboweled while still alive. Emasculated. Watching parts of yourself burned before your eyes. Would you be dead before they cut your body into four parts, then beheaded you, I wonder? Or would you still be alive at that point?”

Juliana flinched at the description of the execution awaiting Niko should he succeed in killing Andre. She didn't want anyone to die like that, not even if Niko managed to kill both of them.

“No one has died that way in more than three hundred years!” But fear joined the note of insanity in Niko's voice.

“But no one committed high treason during that time,” Andre explained reasonably. “So there was no need.” The next step he took brought him almost within arm's reach of the gun aimed at his chest.

Cursing, Niko stepped backward, dragging Juliana with him, the gun still pointing at Andre. “Not another step. Or I
will
shoot you.”

Niko's attention was distracted as the bound bodyguard staggered to his feet at that critical moment—blood trickling down the side of his neck—and tried to thrust himself between Andre and Niko's gun even as he fought the belt binding his hands. In that instant Juliana realized Niko's grasp had loosened. She knew he thought her of little consequence, just a pawn in his deadly sparring match with Andre. Like most men he believed her seemingly fragile appearance was all there was to her. But he was wrong. Dead wrong.

She twisted suddenly in Niko's hold, using a move Terry O'Dare had taught Tessa in
Jetsam
. A move Dirk had taught her. And as she twisted she knocked Niko's arm up just as he fired. But Andre had already moved lightning fast, hurtling himself at his cousin, taking both of them down.

The two men struggled on the ground for possession of the gun, but it was an uneven contest. Andre wrested the gun from Niko's hand, then skittered it across the floor as he pressed his right forearm against his cousin's throat. “I should kill you,” Andre said in a deadly voice, not even breathing hard. Niko whimpered in fear, futilely clawing at the arm cutting off his oxygen. “Give me a reason why I should not.”

Juliana raced across the room and picked up the gun, then turned to the two men on the floor, ignoring the bound bodyguard in her desire to prevent Andre from making a fatal mistake. “Don't, Andre. Please don't.”

“You plead for his life?” he asked her, still in that same deadly voice, but without taking his eyes off his cousin. “When he would have taken yours without hesitation?”

“I don't care about him. I just don't want him to die at your hands. Not like this. Please,” she added softly.

The decision hung in the balance for seconds, then Andre cursed under his breath. With a swift motion he jumped to his feet and jerked Niko to his, holding his cousin prisoner with a death grip on his shirt. A sudden pounding on the locked door to her suite made Juliana realize someone must have heard the gunshot and come running. Andre's bodyguard? One of the palace guards from the floor below? Or just someone from the palace staff? Whoever it was, they didn't know about the secret passageway. They only knew the entrance off the corridor.

Her eyes met Andre's. “Do I let them in?” she asked, her pulse beating so hard in her throat she almost couldn't get the words out. If Andre was going to kill Niko, there was no way she was going to open the door and let another witness enter the room, but...
Please, God,
she pleaded in her mind.
Please don't let him do this.

Niko was still whimpering, begging for his life, and Andre spared him one contemptuous glance before turning his attention back to Juliana and nodding. “Let them in, little one. I will not kill him...since you ask it. I can deny you nothing.”

 

Chapter 19

T
hey weren't able to leave Zakhar that night, after all. Niko's arrest meant both Andre and Juliana had to stay until they had given statements to the police, until Niko had been safely incarcerated and interrogated, and until his coconspirators had been disclosed and arrested.

Niko had talked. The threat of a trial for high treason with its gruesome punishment made him spill his guts in an effort to reach a plea agreement that would at least keep him alive. Prince Xavier, traditionalist that he was, had argued vociferously against leniency when he learned of the attempts his own brother had made on Andre's life, not to mention Juliana's. “High treason,” he stated flatly to his cousin, “should only have one outcome—even for my brother.”

But Andre, with Juliana's voice pleading with him to spare Niko's life ringing in his ears, agreed to leniency, providing his cousin confess everything and name the men involved.

The conspiracy had been small, according to Niko. Two of the men were already dead—the supposedly “politically motivated” assassination attempts had resulted in the deaths of the would-be assassins. Which left five men, all told, including him. And none of the conspirators were in it for anything other than money. No rebellion against Andre's rule or the policy changes he was implementing. No political agenda. Just money.

As Lukas had suspected, one of the five—the only American—was a lighting technician on the
King's Ransom
crew who'd been seduced into attempted murder by the money that had been waved under his nose. He confessed the minute he was arrested.

One of the conspirators was a member of the Zakharian National Forces with military clearance and access to the royal helicopter, lured into treason by his own greed. He, too, confessed when he was arrested and threw himself on the king's mercy.

The other two conspirators, one of whom was the driver of the Mercedes-Benz that had tried to run Juliana down, were Russians with lengthy criminal records and were members of the Russian Mafia, according to Interpol. Their participation in the conspiracy was no surprise given Niko's ability to pay handsomely. Andre's only question had been how his cousin had known these members of the underworld, but that had been explained with one word—
drugs.
The
Bratva
had been supplying Niko with drugs for years.

* * *

It was very late by the time Andre returned to the palace from the Drago prison where Niko had been taken to give his confession. There was still a massive amount of work to be accomplished nailing down what would eventually be a mountain of evidence, but all four of Niko's still-living coconspirators had been rounded up and were now safely incarcerated in the same prison. Andre had left only after Zax assured him there was nothing more either of them could do at that point.

The two cousins sat silently in the back of the limousine for the first part of the ride, with Damon, the king's bodyguard, sitting in front with the driver. Andre fought off a desire to close his eyes in exhaustion and instead murmured to Zax, “I am not quite convinced Niko was completely forthcoming in his confession.”

Zax shot him a sharp look. “You felt that, too? I did not want to say it in front of the others, but there was a moment—just a moment—when I thought Niko was about to reveal another name. Then he changed his mind. And knowing my brother—coward that he is—I do not think anything short of torture will be successful in wringing further information from him at this point. Especially if he thinks you are satisfied with what he has already revealed.”

Andre's lips tightened. “There are times when I could wish...”

“Yes, but you cannot. You would not be the man you are if you could. Let me deal with my brother—it is the least I can do for you. I will work on his fears—make him more afraid of me than he is of whoever he might be shielding. That might yield results.”

Both men fell silent. Then Zax added quietly, for Andre's ears alone, “My resignation will be on your desk in the morning.”

“Do not bother. I will refuse to accept it, and you will have wasted your time to no purpose.”

“You cannot refuse to accept it. The scandal—”

“The scandal will be less of a scandal with you by my side,” Andre insisted.

“There will always be those who say there is no smoke without fire. There will always be those who believe I had a hand in Niko's schemes.” There was a bitter edge to Zax's voice. “
I
am the primary beneficiary should you die without sons, not Niko.”

“Let them believe what they want to believe.” Andre smiled wryly. “Is that not what you told me years ago? Those who wish to see evil will see evil. You cannot live your life based on what people believe of you. Only on what you believe of yourself.”

“But—”

“You know your own innocence. As do I.”

Silence stretched between them. Then Zax said in a low voice, “Thank you for that.” Another long silence was broken when Zax asked, “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Have sons. Soon.”

Andre laughed, and Zax joined him. “That is my intention,” Andre assured him when their laughter subsided. “Not to cut you out of the succession, but because Juliana has agreed to be my wife.”

“Finally.”

Andre breathed deeply, nodded and smiled with intense satisfaction. “Finally.”

Quiet reigned for a moment before Andre said, “Tell me something.”

“Of course.”

“You have known my plans regarding Juliana from the beginning. Yet never once since she arrived did you speak a word of encouragement. Never once did you express sympathy for my struggle. Why is that?”

A look of blank surprise spread over Zax's face. “Was the outcome ever in doubt? Surely you did not think...?”

“Not that you wished otherwise. But yes, I did wonder why you kept silent.”

Zax made a sound of disbelief. “You have never failed in anything you set your mind to. This I have known since you were a small boy. How do you think I came to be called Zax?” When Andre lifted a questioning brow, Zax laughed softly. “You were two, I think. Yes, two. You could not pronounce Xavier, so you called me Zax and refused to call me by any other name. You called me Zax so often everyone in the family began to call me by that name, too.”

Andre smiled his faint smile and shook his head. “Surely not.”

“You were intrepid even then,” Zax insisted. “You were no more than five when you set yourself up in opposition to your father. You were Mara's champion from the day she was born—did you think I could not see that? You would not bend then, and you have not changed since. Your strength of will is already legendary. It never occurred to me you could doubt yourself in this. It never occurred to me you would not succeed in winning Juliana's heart again. It was only a matter of time.”

Andre laughed under his breath. “If you knew the thoughts running through my mind on occasion, you would not be so sure of me. I am not invincible.”

Zax shook his head. “I know you better than you know yourself. I would never bet against you, for I would surely lose.”

* * *

Back at the palace Andre immediately went in search of Juliana with Damon at his side. He was more than exhausted, running on reserves alone, having been awake for nearly thirty-six hours at this point. But he'd promised Juliana they would talk once everything was resolved, and he couldn't seek his own bed until he'd kept his word.

He found her in the little library, curled up on a sofa, fast asleep. Lukas was sitting in the chair across from her, doing nothing but watching her. Guarding her. Protecting her. Keeping him company was Marek Zale. Both men stood when Andre entered the room, but Marek reached him first.

“I failed you, Sire,” Marek said. “My orders were to find Prince Nikolai and arrest him. Instead he almost killed both you and Miss Richardson.”

Andre shook his head. “The failure was mine. I should have held off announcing my engagement to Miss Richardson until whoever was trying to kill her was caught. I knew better, but I—”
Wanted to shout my triumph to the world,
he thought but didn't say. “No, Marek,” he insisted. “No blame attaches to you. If blame there is, it belongs to me and me alone for not realizing sooner the threat Prince Nikolai represented—the signs were there but I was blind to them.”

“But, Sire, I—”

Andre held up a hand to interrupt him. “Do not argue, Marek. Learn from this experience as I have done, and put it to good use when planning the protection detail for Miss Richardson when she becomes my queen.” He added softly, “I am relying on you.”

Andre's words had the desired effect, and he watched in silence as Marek left the room after he was dismissed. When he turned back he found Lukas and Damon standing shoulder to shoulder in front of him, at military attention, not saying a word. Puzzled, Andre asked, “What is this?”

“We failed you, too, Sire,” Lukas said shortly.

Damon explained further, “We were convinced Prince Xavier was guilty based only on his obvious motive, not taking his character into account. We jumped to a false conclusion. We even did our best to convince you of his guilt. To pressure you to have him arrested. We failed you.”

“Ahhh,” Andre said, glad to have the riddle solved, but aware this posed a tricky dilemma. For the first time in forever he didn't know what to say to these men. Men who were not only the best of the best and who took what they saw as failure personally, but men for whom he felt friendship. Just as with Marek Zale, he had to find the words to let them know he understood their feelings of shame, but that no blame attached to them. None. Otherwise, their sense of failure would ruin them as fighting men because they would always second-guess themselves in the future, and that would dull their reaction time.

Then it came to him. “It took great courage for you to accuse your commanding officer, knowing that if you were wrong your careers could be destroyed. And yet you were willing to risk that, and more, to protect me. To protect Miss Richardson. Rest assured, though, you did not convince me of Zax's guilt.” He smiled his faint smile. “Nothing could have done that.”

Lukas started to speak, but Andre overrode him. “And by taking Zax into custody—by providing him with an ironclad alibi—you may have saved my life, and Miss Richardson's, too, because Niko could not afford to kill us unless he could blame it on his brother.”

When he finally dismissed them to wait outside so he could talk with Juliana in private, Andre wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next twelve hours. But he couldn't do that. Not yet. He glanced in Juliana's direction and was surprised to find she was already awake. Awake, and aware of everything that had just taken place.

“You heard?”

She nodded, then held out her arms to him, arms that folded protectively around him when he went into her embrace. And as he lay there with her on the sofa, his head cradled against her breast, he realized he'd been wrong. There was one person who was closer to him than Zax. Closer even than his sister, Mara. One person he could trust enough to let his weakness show.

Juliana.

A woman strong enough to save herself and him. Strong enough to take a moral stand against him, to be his conscience. Strong enough to lend him her strength when his own wasn't enough.
My very own Eleonora,
Andre thought, just before sleep claimed him. He never knew Juliana lay awake through the night holding him, guarding him as he slept the sleep of the just.

* * *

The subsequent scandal caused by the arrests of the five conspirators couldn't be avoided. The news spread like wildfire, and the paparazzi had a field day. Rumor and speculation were rampant. There was scarcely a Zakharian who didn't condemn Prince Nikolai's actions as treasonous and clamor for his swift execution, the same way Prince Xavier had done. But when Andre announced he would commute any death sentence handed down to any of the five, all of Zakhar stoutly held that their king was well within his rights and praised him for his mercy.

“Mercy that should be credited to you,” Andre told Juliana in private. She just shook her head and smiled.

It wasn't until two days later, after the initial furor had died down, that Andre and Juliana were free to leave Zakhar.

* * *

Juliana stood at Sabrina's grave with Andre, his strong arms around her, holding her as she cried. Shielding her from the paparazzi and their long-lens cameras. Pulling her face into the comforting shelter of his chest as she wept, not just for Sabrina lying so peacefully in her grave and for her twin daughters still in neonatal intensive care, but for Dirk, too. Dirk, who stood stoically at the graveside, his face displaying no emotion whatsoever, lost in a world grown dark and cold without Bree, a world where he blamed himself for her death.

“This is my punishment,”
he'd told Juliana, his eyes wild with grief when she'd gone to see him the day before. “
God is punishing
me
, but
she
paid the price.”
And nothing Juliana said to him made the slightest difference. Nothing she said seemed to break through that impenetrable barrier. And now Dirk had shuttered himself against everyone and everything. Against friendship. Against every human emotion. Even against fatherhood—he'd only visited his tiny daughters twice in the neonatal ICU, both times for less than ten minutes.

Memories of Dirk and Sabrina came back to Juliana as she stood there. Good memories and painful ones. Remembering with a pang of guilt how she'd been envious of her friends and the love they shared. Not that she'd wanted to take anything away from them; she'd just wanted what they had. Now she did...but now they didn't.
Now Bree's dead and Dirk might not survive.
She would carry that grief...and guilt...for a long time.

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